Chapter 279 Grateful.

Chapter 279: 279 Grateful.

"And there is one other matter, sir," Glacia noted as well.

"Which is?"

"The... other villainess," she said with a knowing look. "Chamelea. You have yet to make a decision about her."

I threw my mind back. Oh. Ohhhh! Right. Her. Chamelea was a bit of a special case for me. I’d been willing to give her a chance. Villains were always very equal opportunity hirers.

All that said, she did have useful powers, but not necessarily for my usual work. Being a shapeshifter didn’t lend her very well to fighting heroes unless you also copied their powers. Still, it’d be a shame to lose her.

I already had a few ideas for her, in fact, so I might be able to make it work.

"Make an appointment in about a week’s time," I told Glacia, then glanced back as Psyren tugged on my shirt, the psychic pouting playfully and nodding towards the stairs.

"Speaking of," I said, plucking the card I’d gotten from Black Star, "here’s another name we might want to look into. He introduced himself to me today after getting smashed into a post box."

"An interesting introduction, sir," Glacia noted.

"Sure was. I’ll look into him more with the Doll-E later, but add his name to the maybe list for an interview. And now, I need to uh... consult Psyren on our recent work."

"Ah," Glacia said with a knowing hint of a smile. "Of course, sir. Please, take as long as you need."

"Oh, we will," Psyren giggled, tugging me after her.

I grinned, but allowed Psyren to drag me upstairs and into her room. It fit her, I’d say that much about it. The whole place was louder than a howler monkey with a megaphone.

Pastel pink wallpaper blazed from every wall and the bed was a satin heap of messed-up sheets and plushies.

A huge computer complete with sprawling production-level audio equipment for streaming took up a corner, and neon purple Christmas lights glowed around the ceiling and seams of the walls.

No sooner had we gotten inside than Psyren was pressed against me again, her lips on mine and her hands playfully plucking off my shirt.

I growled, kissing her back just as hard, my own hands grabbing her tight top and pulling it off her.

Psyren moaned as I yanked down her skirt next, one hand engulfing the plushness of her ass and pulling her against my front.

Psyren gasped as she felt my bulge, then cooed as she shamelessly began to rock her hips, grinding herself against me.

"Oh boss," she moaned with a flutter of her eyelashes. "Been waiting all day for this. Let me... let me make it so good."

"You have my permission," I breathed—then paused, a wicked idea sliding into place. I caught her wrists before she could drop to her knees. "But first... I think my good little psychic deserves a treat."

Her eyes widened, glowing hearts flickering brighter. "A treat?"

"Mm." I walked her backward until the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the bed, then pushed her down onto the satin chaos of sheets and plushies. "Lie back. Legs open. Hands on the headboard if you need something to hold onto."

Psyren’s breath hitched. She scrambled to obey, stripping the last of her clothes with frantic little motions until she was bare except for the sleek black collar around her throat and the silver bars piercing her nipples.

Tan lines framed the full curves of her breasts; her pussy was already glistening, soft folds flushed and parted just from the grinding earlier.

She hooked her knees outward, presenting herself without a shred of shame, and the neon lights painted shifting purple highlights across her skin.

I sank to my knees between her spread thighs and just looked for a moment, drinking in the way her clit peeked from its hood, the way her inner thighs trembled in anticipation.

My magnetic sense hummed, tasting the metal in those nipple piercings, the tiny studs in the collar, the hidden weight of something heavier in the nearby drawer. Later.

"Boss..." she whispered, voice already thick.

"Quiet," I said, though the command was soft. "Just feel."

I leaned in and dragged the flat of my tongue from the bottom of her slit all the way up to her clit in one long, deliberate stroke.

Psyren’s whole body arched; a sharp, broken cry tore out of her. I did it again, slower, pressing firmer, letting the tip of my tongue tease the swollen bud before dipping lower to fuck into her entrance.

She tasted sweet and musky and already soaked, and the little psychic keened like she was being electrocuted every time I circled her clit.

I settled in properly, looping my arms under her thighs and anchoring my hands on her hips so she couldn’t squirm away.

Then I feasted. Long, wet licks. Firm suction on her clit. Two fingers sliding into her heat and curling until I found the spot that made her thighs clamp around my head.

Psyren’s hands flew to the headboard; her knuckles went white. The hearts in her eyes flared brighter, and a soft pink haze of psychokinetic energy began to shimmer around her like heat haze.

"Oh fuck—boss—oh my god—"

I hummed against her, the vibration making her jolt. My fingers pumped deeper, wet sounds filling the room, and I sealed my lips around her clit and sucked in a steady, relentless rhythm.

Psyren’s hips tried to buck; I held her down easily and kept eating her like she was the only meal that mattered.

Every time her moans climbed higher I slowed just enough to keep her on the edge, then ramped back up until she was sobbing with need.

"Please—please let me come—I’ve been so good—please, Miles—"

The use of my name instead of "boss" made something dark and pleased coil in my gut.

I rewarded her by adding a third finger and doubling the pressure of my tongue. The neon lights seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat.

Psyren’s psychic aura flared hard—plushies on the bed lifted an inch off the mattress, floating in a soft pink glow—and then she shattered.

She came with a raw, high cry, thighs shaking violently around my head, pussy clenching in hard rhythmic spasms around my fingers.

I kept licking her through it, slower now, gentler, drawing every last tremor out of her until she was twitching and gasping and trying to close her legs. Only then did I ease back, chin shiny, mouth curved in a satisfied smirk.

Psyren stared down at me, dazed, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat on her collarbones. The floating plushies dropped back to the bed with soft thumps.

"That," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, "was your treat. Now you get to show me how grateful you are."