CHAPTER 75: ’I’VE FORGIVEN YOU BUT WILL STILL ’PUNISH’ YOU’

His voice was low, dripping with lust, his breath hot against her skin, sparking a shiver that made her perky breasts jiggle faintly under her top.

"T-that’s what they c-call it," Ivana stammered, her cheeks burning, her heart racing as she realized his intent.

’Savior God’s making a move on me again... he doesn’t plan to abandon me...’ The thought hit her hard, a mix of relief and arousal flooding her, her pussy tingling despite the soreness from yesterday.

Deus’s hands grew greedier, caressing her curves, sliding over her tight jean skirt, his palms pressing against her ass, the fabric doing little to dull the pleasure surging through her.

He sucked her nape, his lips firm, his tongue flicking her skin, tasting her sweat, leaving a faint mark that made her gasp.

"What do you say, my dear?" he said, his voice low, seductive, a promise of more pleasure, his hands roaming, one slipping under her apron, teasing the edge of her skirt, brushing her thigh, sending jolts through her core.

Ivana was lost for words, her senses drowning in pleasure from his first caress, the fabric of her skirt a thin barrier that couldn’t stop the heat of his touch.

Her body trembled, her pussy clenching, her perky breasts straining against her top, her nipples hardening, her blush deepening.

The kitchen was warm, the aroma of Shepherd’s Pie blending with the scent of their rising lust, the sizzle of the skillet a faint backdrop to her soft gasps and his low growls, a sensual tension building, ready to explode.

Ivana’s first reply was forced, her voice shaky, almost moaning as Deus sucked her nape, his lips hot and firm, teasing her sweat-slicked skin. She bit her lower lip, hard, stifling a moan, her body trembling, her perky breasts straining against her top. Seeing her struggle, Deus grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief.

He kept up his tactics, his voice sexy, seductive, a low purr that sent shivers through her. His hands rummaged from behind, slipping under her tight top, caressing her smooth skin, gliding up her flat stomach, leaving a trail of heat.

They reached her voluptuous breasts, no bra to block him, her bare flesh soft and warm under his palms. He squeezed, firm but teasing, kneading her perky mounds, making Ivana lose it.

She dropped the pot-sized spoon, the clatter lost in her loud moan,

"~Ahn~ Deus!" Her voice echoed in the kitchen, raw and needy, her body quaking.

Letting go of the spoon, she reached back, her hand pressing Deus’s head deeper into her neck, urging him to suck harder, his tongue flicking, leaving faint marks that sparked jolts through her core.

"Y-your caresses, are t-too good..." she muttered, her breath heavy, her face flushed red, her pussy tingling, already wet.

Deus, in one day of mortal pleasure, had surpassed human sex experts. He was indeed the definition of a fast learner.

Ivana couldn’t resist, her senses drowning in waves of pleasure from his caresses alone, her breath quickening, her body hot, fearing she’d cum before the real deal.

After playing with her breasts, squeezing and kneading, Deus’s hands moved stealthily, his fingers brushing her dark nipples, kneading them gently, the perfect pressure making her moan again, louder, her face burning.

’In the kitchen... we’re doing this here!’ she thought, shocked, aroused, her pussy dripping, her tight jean skirt doing little to hide her need.

Deus paused, his hands caressing down her smooth skin, tracing her curves, his touch deliberate, teasing.

He untied her apron, letting it slip off, the fabric whispering to the floor, revealing her snug top and skirt, her hourglass figure glowing in the morning light.

His fingers hooked under her top, pulling it up slowly, sensually, exposing her perky breasts, their youthful bounce catching the light, her nipples hard, begging for touch.

He tossed the top aside, his hands gliding to her jean skirt, unzipping it, pushing it down her beautiful long legs, the denim pooling at her feet.

A red lingerie pant was revealed, lacy and tight, hugging her big but perfect ass, the fabric damp with her juices.

Deus fondled her ass, kneading the soft, oiled flesh, his fingers sinking in, making her moan softly, her body trembling. He leaned in, blowing a cool breath on her nape, the sensation sparking shivers, her pussy flowing, her moans constant, needy, filling the kitchen with their lust.

His divine senses caught everything—her wet pussy soaking her panties, her juices dripping, a sight he didn’t need to see to know, his godly perception piercing through.

His hands roamed her flat stomach, fingers teasing the edge of her lingerie, ready to strip it off. Just as he tugged, Ivana whispered, her voice shaky, "The food’s gonna get burnt..."

"Let it..." Deus growled, kneeling behind her, his lips pressing a hot, long, sucking, wet French kiss to her beautiful ass, his tongue tracing her oiled skin, tasting her, making her gasp.

He wanted the food to burn, a cover to avoid questions from her cooks, not wanting to lie about joining them to eat. But Ivana, weak and trembling, reached out with clammy hands, fumbling to turn off the cooker, the click snapping through the air.

’Damnit,’ Deus thought, gritting his teeth, annoyed but amused, his cock throbbing harder. He’d punish her for that, his perverted grin widening.

His hands guided her lingerie down, the lace cascading over her jade-white skin, pooling at her feet, leaving her naked, her big ass quivering, her pussy glistening, dripping with love juices.

His fingers found her wet clit, rubbing it slow, deliberate, his voice half-sexy, half-annoyed. "I told you to let it burn..."

Ivana shivered, her heart tightening, thinking he’d been joking.

’Why did I assume a god was joking? I’m not that important...’

"I’m sorry..." she whispered, not daring to ask what she’d done wrong, her pussy clenching, her body hot with shame and arousal.

"I’ve forgiven you, but I’ll still punish you..." Deus said, his grin wicked, his fingers teasing her erect clit, kneading it with slow, torturous pressure, her pussy yearning for more—his fingers, his dick, anything.