Chapter 742: Precious Angel *

After pumping her slick channel with his fingers, he drew back from the kiss to look down at her pussy, admiring its delicate, glistening beauty.

He’d explored a fair number of these by now, especially after recent trysts with the succubi and Zenith, but he held a deep, reverent appreciation for each one, unique in its form and reactions.

He lowered his head again, but this time his mouth found a different target.

He pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, then another, following an upward trail, before his warm tongue finally made contact with her beautiful outer lips.

"Aaaaahhh..." She gasped, holding onto his head again.

He began exploring her beautiful flower with his tongue, sucking and tasting her nectar, tracing every fold, circling her clit until her back arched clear off the mattress.

His tongue delved deeper, invading her tight channel, fucking her with slow, wet thrusts that made her cry out in absolute ecstasy.

She lost all inhibition, her hips bucking forward, seeking more of his mouth, chasing that incredible peak she’d only just discovered moments before.

But to her dazed horror, he pulled away just as she felt herself teetering on the brink of that same soul-shattering pinnacle.

"Ahhh..." A soft, frustrated whimper escaped her lips.

Through the haze of pleasure, she watched him move. He positioned himself between her legs, pulling them wider apart and hooking them over his hips.

His hot, hard rod rested against her lower belly, like a tangible promise of what was to come.

Her breath hitched, coming in quick, shallow pants as the reality settled in. It was finally time. The moment she would lose her precious virginity to the man she loved.

Elion leaned over her, bracing himself on one arm. With his other hand, he stroked her flushed cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear of overwhelmed emotion.

He looked deeply into her eyes, his own gaze soft and endlessly kind.

"Are you ready?" he asked. His voice was low, like an intimate rumble that vibrated through her very bones, "to become mine forever?"

She already was his, bound by the harem seal, but this was different. This was a sacred, physical claiming... A moment she would cherish forever, and he wanted her to remember not just the pleasure, but his sincerity, his love, in this fragile space before they joined.

He leaned down and gently licked away a stray tear that had just trickled from the corner of her eye as she nodded. But the tears of joy didn’t stop; instead, they flowed freely now, like a silent river down her temples and into her hair, spread out on the bed beneath her head.

She was feeling too much, her heart swollen with an emotion so profound it could only escape through her eyes.

Elion didn’t keep her waiting.

He pulled his hips back just enough to allow the broad, smooth tip of his dick to press against her warm, weeping entrance.

Isolde began to cry in earnest, soft sobs shaking her shoulders as the tears fell faster.

Elion stopped, concern washing over his features. He leaned down, his face hovering inches above hers.

"What’s wrong?" he asked worriedly.

She used both hands to scrub at her cheeks, shaking her head from side to side.

"I-It’s nothing," she said, looking up at him, and through the glistening tears, she gave him the most radiant smile he had ever seen grace her delicate features. "I’m just... so happy right now!"

The words, spoken with such pure, trembling sincerity, struck Elion like a physical blow. A sharp, sweet pang of emotion pierced his heart... a divine fullness so great and wonderful it stole his breath.

For a moment, he felt his own eyes sting with the threat of tears.

’She is simply too precious.’

He was filled with such overwhelming bliss that he found himself utterly paralyzed, unable to speak or move. All he could do was revel in the feeling, in the sacred truth of this moment with this incredible woman.

If anything or anyone even dared to hurt her and attempt to take away that precious smile from her face, then he would send that person straight to hell, bring them back, and send them back again.

After a heartbeat suspended in time, the only thing he could do was kiss her again. This kiss was soft, reverent, like a silent language conveying all the love and awe he couldn’t voice.

Then, with infinite care, he pushed forward.

He felt her inner resistance, the fragile barrier giving way as he slowly, inexorably pierced her sweet cave with his shaft.

Her warmth enveloped him. It was impossibly tight, but also incredibly welcoming. She moaned into his mouth, a sound of profound acceptance, and he felt her legs wrap around his back, her ankles locking together as she pulled him in with a shy, desperate eagerness.

But then, a sharp, sudden mix of pain and pleasure flashed across her face. Her blissful expression faltered, replaced by a pained grimace, a frown marring her smooth brow.

Elion didn’t pull away. He continued to kiss her, swallowing her tiny, pained gasp. He stilled his hips, letting her adjust, letting the initial searing sensation subside.

He whispered against her lips, his hands stroking her sides.

When he felt the stiffness in her thighs begin to ease, he began to move again, not retreating, but advancing with agonizing slowness, helping her body acclimate, helping her ease through the lingering discomfort until it began to melt once more into the pleasure he knew was waiting beneath.

He pushed forward until he was buried balls-deep inside her, his pelvis flush against hers; he pulled away from the kiss.

He looked down just as she opened her eyes, her amethyst gaze meeting his. In them, he saw pain, trust, vulnerability, and a love so deep it made his chest ache.

"I love you, Elion," she confessed breathily.

"I love you too, Isolde," he responded, then he began to move.

He pulled his hips back slowly, the drag of his shaft within her impossibly tight channel making them both gasp.

Then he pushed forward again, a gentle but firm nudge that shifted her small body up the mattress. She clung to his neck with both hands, letting out a soft, pained whimper.

"Shhh, I’ve got you," he murmured. "Just breathe through it, and the pain will ease."

He moved with excruciating slowness, waiting for the sharp edge of pain to dull and fade. The crimson evidence of her innocence leaked unnoticed from the point of their connection, a stark contrast against her pale skin and the blonde hair at the base of his cock.

His slow and deep thrusts continued. Each inward stroke drew a groan from him...

"Mmmph... Fuck... you’re so tight..." he grunted, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. Each withdrawal earned a pained little gasp from her.

"Ah... ahhn... Elion... It... hurts..."

"It’s okay... Just hold on to me."

She whimpered, her body trembling as she adjusted to the unfamiliar, stretching fullness. Her inner walls fluttered around him, a chaotic mix of resistance and desperate clenching.

"Does it... does it always hurt this much?" she whispered between ragged breaths.

"For a little while, yeah," he said in a strained voice as he pushed in again, sinking to the hilt. "But the pain will fade soon."

He resumed his slow thrusts. Gradually, the pinched expression on her face softened. The pained groans that had punctuated each thrust started to change in tone.

"Nnh!... Unh!..."

The sharp edges smoothed out, blending with the wet sounds of their joining and his own deepening groans.

"Yeah... that’s it... just like that..." He felt her body begin to relax around him, accepting him. Her grip on his neck loosened from a panic-hold to an embrace.

Her next sound was different... less a whimper of pain, more a moan of overwhelmed sensation. "Oh... oh, that’s..."

Elion smiled and picked up his pace just a fraction.

"There you go... Do you feel it now?"

"Y-yes... Elion... ahhh... yes... I feel it..." She nodded frantically.

Pah. Pah. Pah.

The soft, wet slapping of skin on skin echoed in the quiet room, with each gentle thrust as his groin met her slender thighs.

Her pussy was impossibly sweet, and a hot, clinging tightly around him, and he moved within her with careful restraint, resisting the deep-seated urge to plow into her frail form with the same unbridled ferocity he’d used with Mira and Tessa.

That roughness was for them; it matched their own fiery natures. With Isolde, he would be gentle. He would handle her like the precious, gentle little angel she was.