CHAPTER 305: CHAPTER 305 - IS SABRINA EATING SHAMPOO?

Tianlong strode through the shifting void, his arms cradling Sylvea’s limp, sweat-slicked body like she was some fragile treasure he’d just plundered from the depths.

Her thick thighs hung loose, parted just enough that every step he took made his hand—gripped firm on one meaty cheek of her ass—squeeze involuntarily.

The pressure was deliberate, almost cruel in its casualness; globs of his thick, creamy cum mixed with her ruined pussy juices dribbled out from between her swollen folds, splattering wetly onto the ethereal floor below.

They left a sloppy trail, viscous strings stretching and snapping with each jostle, the scent of raw sex hanging heavy in the air like a promise of more to come.

Sylvea’s head lolled against his chest, her green hair matted and tangled, lips parted in shallow breaths, still unconsciously licking at the salty remnants of his load that smeared her chin.

Her massive tits heaved with each bump, nipples hard and raw from the abuse, scraping against his robe.

Around them, the world warped and reformed under the Pleasure Palace’s whims—his domain bending reality like wet clay.

The stark academy chamber faded, replaced by plush velvet red curtains that unfurled from nothingness, heavy and luxurious, pooling like blood on the emerging marble floors.

Golden sconces flickered to life on walls that shimmered into existence, casting a warm, seductive glow that danced over the opulent space.

The air thickened with the faint, musky perfume of incense and desire, the palace’s essence seeping into everything, making even the shadows feel alive and hungry.

He pushed through a set of forming archways, entering one of the palace’s inner sanctums—a vast room that materialized around them like a dream taking shape.

Crimson curtains draped the edges, framing a massive king-size bed that dominated the center: four posters carved with writhing figures in eternal ecstasy, silk sheets rippling as if freshly rumpled.

There, seated at the bed’s edge with her hands folded neatly in her lap, was Akane.

Her silver-and-red fox ears twitched at the sound of his approach, those sharp, amber eyes lighting up like embers catching flame.

She was a vision in her simple robe, the fabric clinging to her curves—the swell of her big tits straining the ties, her fluffy tail curled idly behind her, a mix of silver fur streaked with those fiery red tips.

The moment she spotted him—Sylvea’s naked, cum-drenched form in his arms—Akane shot to her feet, her tail flicking with a mix of worry and that possessive spark. "Where have you left me?" she demanded, voice a soft growl, stepping closer with her hips swaying naturally, those fox ears perking forward.

Tianlong’s lips curved into a lazy smile, his golden-crimson eyes softening as they locked on hers.

He shifted Sylvea’s weight effortlessly, like she was nothing more than a warm blanket. "Are you fine?" he asked, voice low and rough from the earlier exertion, scanning her face for any sign of distress.

She nodded quick, biting her lower lip as relief washed over her features, then leaned in like it was the most natural thing—bodies pressing close, her warmth seeping into him.

They fit like a matched pair, lovers who’d clawed through hell together.

He nuzzled his cheek against hers, rough stubble scraping her soft skin, inhaling her wild, earthy scent mixed with that faint floral hint that was all Akane.

She let out a bubbly chuckle, her breath hot against his ear, body relaxing into the touch.

"Why are you laughing?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, one hand still clamped on Sylvea’s ass, feeling another warm trickle of their mixed fluids slide down his wrist.

Akane’s eyes sparkled with mischief, her tail swishing lazily. "How can you be so gentle... and at the same time such an animal?" She tilted her head, those fox ears flopping slightly, a playful pout on her full lips.

His mouth twitched, a half-grin fighting through the amusement, and he shook his head, dark hair falling over his forehead. "You’re one to talk," he muttered, but there was no bite to it.

With careful steps, he moved to the bed, laying Sylvea down on the cool silk sheets.

Her thick, well-fucked body sprawled out—thighs splayed, pussy still gaping slightly, a fresh bead of cum oozing from her abused hole to stain the fabric.

She mumbled something incoherent, tongue darting out to lap at her lips again, chasing the taste of him.

Tianlong leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on her feverish skin. "Rest up, beautiful," he whispered, then tugged the heavy bedsheet over her curves, tucking it around her like a shield, hiding the evidence of his conquest for now.

Turning back, his eyes found Akane’s—hungry, appreciative—and he pulled her into a hug without a word.

She melted against him, her big, soft boobs mashing flat against his chest, the give of them pressing through their clothes in a way that made his cock twitch despite the recent marathon.

Her tail whipped around, wrapping them both in a furry cocoon, silver and red fur brushing his legs, pulling him closer like she owned him. "Just look in the mirror," he said, voice dropping to that gravelly timbre that always made her shiver.

One hand slid down her back, gripping her ass through the robe, fingers digging in just enough to feel the heat. "You’re the type of woman any man would wanna fuck daily. Breed her raw till she’s leaking for days. But even then, he couldn’t get enough—craving that tight fox pussy squeezing him dry every damn time."

Akane’s breath hitched, her eyes fixed on his lips, pupils dilating as she leaned in, bodies flush.

Their mouths met in a small, teasing kiss—just a brush of lips, wet and promising—before he pulled back, leaving her wanting. "You know," he continued, thumb tracing her jaw, "I saw a lot of women today. They weren’t human... but fuck, they looked beautiful. Exotic as hell, bodies built for sin."

Her eyes widened, a flash of jealousy sharpening her features—ears pinning back, tail tightening its wrap around them like a vice.

But then she relaxed, leaning her head against his chest, those silver-red locks spilling over his shoulder.

Her hands clutched at his robe, nails digging in. "Why are you so obsessed with women?" she whispered, voice laced with that vulnerable edge, hugging him tighter, her tits squishing even more, nipples hardening against him. "Am I not enough? Is my body old to fill that need?"

Tianlong rested his chin on her forehead, feeling her fox ears flatten against her skull in that telltale sign of hurt.

He kissed the top of her head, lips pressing into the soft fur.

"You are the best woman one could ask for... its just, there’s an enemy out there waiting to kill me," he said quietly, hand stroking her back in slow circles. "If I don’t get stronger—build my power, women in particular—lose it all. You included."

She trembled in his arms, a soft whimper escaping as she lifted her head, amber eyes fierce and watery.

"Who is it? Tell me," she demanded, tail uncoiling just enough to let her pull back, fists balling in his robe. "I’ll rip his throat out. Feed him to the beasts."

But as the words left her, her eyes narrowed—suspicion flickering like a shadow.

From the folds of Tianlong’s black robe, a single black butterfly fluttered free, the one which remained hidden there earlier.

It multiplied in a swirl of dark wings, coalescing into a full form: Xiang materializing right there, her violet eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.

Her nature had shifted—gone was the playful seductress; now she was all sharp edges, chuckling low as she leaned in, planting a quick peck on his cheek.

Her lips were soft, teasing, leaving a faint gloss mark. "I did what you told me, honey," she purred, voice dripping with satisfaction, hand trailing down his arm possessively.

Tianlong gave her a genuine smile, but a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He’d sent her back to those professors, the perfect manipulator: a heroine who’d cracked the code on men’s and women’s psyches, twisting desires like threads on a loom.

Who better to dangle choices, plant seeds of doubt and lust?

That academy protagonist, the one with his flimsy plot armor, would make a fine first dummy for his schemes—break him slow, watch the despair crack his hero facade to practice future with other son of heaven.

But the moment shattered with a wet, retching "Blergh..." echoing from the shadows.

All three heads snapped toward the sound.

Sabrina.