Strongest Incubus System

Aria watched Damon for a few more seconds, as if deciding something that had already been decided the instant she saw him leave that room.

Then she moved forward.

She gave no warning. No time.

She gripped his wrist tightly and pulled him down the hallway, her quick steps echoing off the ancient stone of the mansion. Damon tried to keep up, but it was useless—Aria wasn’t just walking, she was imposing direction.

”Aria, wait—”

”Shut up,” she cut him off, without even turning her face.

They reached a door that Damon recognized even before she opened it. Her room.

Aria opened the door with a brusque movement and pushed him inside. Damon lost his balance and fell onto the heavy bed, the mattress sinking under his weight.

Before he could get up, she slammed the door shut behind her.

The sound echoed.

The air grew thick.

Aria turned slowly, her eyes burning with something far beyond ordinary anger. It was wounded pride. It was invaded territory. It was a feeling she would never admit aloud.

”You think you can look at me the same way after touching another woman?” she shouted, her voice vibrating with fury. ”You think that doesn’t leave marks?!”

Damon sat on the bed, his body tense, but his gaze firm.

”I didn’t betray you,” he replied carefully. ”I never promised—”

”IT DOESN’T MATTER!” she interrupted, taking a step forward.

With trembling hands, she began to pull at her maid dress, not sensually, but aggressively, as if she were shedding a skin that was suffocating her.

”You’ll regret this,” she said, her voice breaking between anger and something deeper. ”You’ll regret thinking I’m just another option.”

She tossed the fabric aside, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling too rapidly.

Damon slowly rose from the bed, raising his hands.

”Aria... stop.” His tone was firm now. ”This isn’t you.”

She laughed. A short, bitter laugh.

”You don’t know who I am when someone I chose decides to cross me like this.”

She came close enough for him to feel her heat, her raw, uncontrolled energy. Her eyes locked on his, defiant, hungry, as if the whole world revolved around that moment of reconquest.

Without another word, her hands flew to his shirt. Agile, merciless fingers ripped the buttons, violently opening the fabric, exposing his chest to the fresh air of the room. Damon blinked, surprised, but didn’t recoil—his body reacted to her touch, treacherous, stiffening under the assault.

”Aria...” he murmured, but his voice came out hoarse, lacking conviction.

She ignored him, her nails lightly scratching his skin as she pulled his shirt off his shoulders, forcing his arms back until the fabric fell to the floor. Her hands moved down to his belt, opening it with a metallic snap that echoed like a gunshot.

The zipper followed, dragged down urgently, and she slipped her hand inside his pants, grasping his erection through his underwear, feeling it throb and grow instantly under her possessive touch.

”This is mine,” she growled softly, her lips brushing his ear as she pushed down his pants and underwear, freeing his stiff, throbbing member, which sprang out, thick and veiny, the head already glistening with pre-ejaculate.

Damon groaned, his hands instinctively rising to her hips, but she pushed them away with a quick slap.

”No. You just look.”

Naked from the waist down now, he stood there, exposed, his erect penis pointing at her like an involuntary offering. Aria took a step back, just enough to show off. With deliberate slowness now, she slid her hands between her thighs, opening her legs slightly.

Her fingers slipped into her soaked panties—the fabric clinging to her swollen vulva, the fleshy, pink lips visible through the sheer material, the protruding clitoris throbbing with furious excitement.

She pulled her panties aside, exposing everything: her vulva was a wet mess, the lips parted and glistening with thick honey, dripping down her inner thighs, the hole throbbing with lust, begging to be filled. The musky scent of female arousal filled the air, sweet and salty, intoxicating.

”Look what you do to me,” she whispered, thrusting two fingers inside herself with a guttural moan, fucking herself slowly for him to see, the wet sound of flesh against flesh echoing. ”It’s soaked for you. Only for you. No other whore will have this.”

She pulled her fingers out, glistening with her own juices, and brought them to his mouth, forcing him to suck the taste of her—salty, sweet, addictive.

Then, without warning, Aria dropped to her knees before him, her flaming eyes fixed on his face. Her hands gripped the base of his thick cock, squeezing with possessive force, while her mouth opened hungrily.

Her tongue licked the head first, swirling around the precum, sucking with a loud ”pop” that made Damon arch his back.

”Fuck, Aria...” he grunted, his hands now digging into her hair without permission.

She swallowed him whole on the next suck—her hot, wet mouth going down to his throat, her lips stretched around its thickness, her throat constricting around the head as she gagged on purpose, saliva dribbling from the corners of her mouth and onto his balls.

She sucked furiously, her head moving back and forth quickly, her cheeks sinking with each deep suck, her tongue pressing against the underside of his cock, licking the bulging veins.

Moans vibrated from her, sending shocks of pleasure straight down his spine, while one hand massaged his heavy balls, squeezing and rolling them, the other pumping the base her mouth couldn’t reach.

She devoured him as if it were revenge—pausing only to spit on his cock, licking from his balls to the head in long, lascivious strokes, sucking his balls one at a time, then returning to swallow it all again, deeper, faster.

The room filled with obscene sounds: the ”gluck-gluck” of her fucked throat, her muffled moans, his grunts nearing their limit.

Aria didn’t stop. She would suck until he came, until he marked her as his again, until there was nothing left for another woman.

Damon was on the verge, his thigh muscles trembling, his swollen, throbbing cock in Aria’s voracious mouth, which sucked mercilessly, her eyes fixed on his, full of wild triumph.

He tried to hold back, his hands gripping her hair tightly, but she sped up, her throat opening wider, swallowing every inch with a wet gurgle, saliva running in thick strands down her chin and dripping onto the wooden floor.

— Aria... I’m going to... fuck, stop — he growled, his voice broken, but she only moaned in response, vibrating around his cock, her hand at the base pumping furiously, the fingers of her other hand squeezing his balls as if she wanted to squeeze out every drop.

There was no escape. With an animalistic grunt, Damon exploded. His cock pulsed violently in her throat, hot, thick jets of cum filling Aria’s mouth, dribbling from the corners of her lips as she swallowed what she could, hungrily, her tongue swirling to suck up the rest.

She didn’t let go — she kept sucking, sucking until the last contraction, until he groaned with hypersensitivity, his cock aching from so much forced pleasure. Only then did she recoil with a dirty ”pop,” her mouth swollen and glistening with saliva and semen, a thick thread connecting her lips to the red, sensitive head of his cock.

She swallowed the rest in one audible gulp, licking her lips slowly, her eyes blazing.

”This is mine too,” she murmured hoarsely, wiping her chin with the back of her hand. ”Every drop.”

Damon gasped, his body limp against the bed, but Aria gave him no time to recover.

Still on her knees, she rose with predatory grace, her panties tossed aside, her pussy exposed and soaked, her swollen lips dripping thick honey down her thighs. Without ceremony, she pushed him back onto the bed with one hand on his chest, climbing on top like a vengeful goddess.

”Now you’re going to feel what it’s like to be marked,” she hissed, spreading her wide legs over his hips. With one hand, she grasped the base of his still semi-hard, aching, and sensitive cock from his recent orgasm, and aligned it with her entrance. The head brushed against her honeyed lips, and without warning, without gentleness, she descended with brute force.

His cock plunged in deep—all at once, its thick 20 centimeters forcing its way through her tight, slippery pussy, stretching the walls to their limit. Aria screamed, a sound of pain and ecstasy mixed together, sitting all the way down, his balls slapping against her ass with a wet slap.

It hurt—fuck, it hurt like hell—his head hitting her cervix violently, his sensitive cock burning with hypersensitivity in the suffocating heat, veins throbbing against the possessive contractions of her pussy.

”Fuck!” Damon roared, his hands flying to her hips, nails digging into her flesh, but she didn’t stop.

She began to ride furiously, rising until her head was almost out and then coming down again, each thrust a deep impact that made his cock throb with pleasurable pain, the sound of wet skin cracking loudly in the room. Her pussy squeezed him like a vise, milking his cock, the thick honey dripping down his balls, soaking both their thighs.

She leaned forward, her breasts swaying freely, her hard nipples brushing against his chest as she bounced harder, deeper, moaning hoarsely:

”Feel this? No one else will have you like this. This pussy is your prison now.” Damon writhed beneath her, the painful pleasure driving him mad, his hands rising to squeeze her breasts, pinching her nipples as she fucked him mercilessly, his cock hardening again despite the pain, filling her to overflowing.

The room trembled with her moans, his grunts, the obscene ”plop-plop” of their brutal fucking—she wasn’t going to stop until he was destroyed, until he came again inside her, sealing the claim.