Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

"You knew it was far from over, yet you don't know you'll be the one to take the lead?" Mystique began to giggle. "What foolish hero—so gullible I could choke the life out of you."

Athan's eyebrows shot up, clearly was surprised, and he couldn't help but stare at the sudden display of Mystique's demeanor. His heart thumped hard, almost trying to get out of his chest.

She spoke so many words—almost like a phrase or short sentences that most likely he'd grow old enough before he could hear them along with her seductive voice.

Just a few words uttered alone drove him to the edge.

As much as he didn't want to imagine what she said earlier, it sent sparks of electrocution over his body and deep into his bones.

Her words weighed heavy with magic, almost hypnotizing and dulling his senses to her whims.

Withal, he gulped hard when she began to smirk as her palms caressed over his broad chest. Arms tensed, trying to break free from her sudden monstrous strength, but he failed to do so.

A subtle grunt came from his lips, but she shoved her lilac lingerie into his mouth.

It stunned him.

His resistance further weakened when she started to rock her hips, back and forth, against his girth. The sensation from his shaft heightened with every rub against her warm flesh from its honey basket lips.

Unable to hold it any longer, he started to thrust with the same tempo as hers and took hold of her waist. With each rub against his growing stiffness, almost threatening to pierce deep into her, the warmth continued to surround him.

But Mystique acted like the boss of her own—she slapped both of his arms, stopping his actions. As much as he wanted to ask what it was, his arms now tied in ice cuffs.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," she purred. Her hand dramatically covered her cheek with a gaze that oozed with salacity and perversion. "Look at you; helpless…"

'What—when did she?' Athan arched his neck as he peered but lost his focus when she continued to grind against his loins. Only gritting his teeth with the kind of torture she was trying to pull off him.

Soon, her body pressed his, and his muffled sounds went louder when the caress became too rough for him to bear.

'Must… Hold… Back—'

He was put in a trial: a mental struggle to lead, but he bobbed his head and sunk himself to the pillows when her calls seized him.

"I shall let you give the taste of what nirvana is like." she then giggled. Before she turned around, her hands covered his eyes and created a dome mask.

Athan's already blurred vision got worse and now chilly—which he had no idea from this moment on aside from his premonition: if this continued, then his life would change forever.

Unbeknownst to him, a sudden shift of weight and a subtle creak was all he could discern out of the frosty view he had at the moment.

With the lingerie out of the way, he thought he freed himself from the problem uprising.

But things changed, after which, the rustle on the sheet and squelching sound that tingled his ears.

The seemingly familiar nectar, drop after drop, smothered in his lips, and when he knew what it was, she already plunged all over his mouth for him to savor.

Although the prince didn't know it had yet to reach the main course when, in the meantime, she drank the musky smell of his moistened tip with such slurp. She moaned from the kind of aroma she coveted the whole time.

From the thick head of his had her slurping, up and down.

Never missed a beat, taking up to the hilt.

Mystique had found the rhythm, following his series of grunts and growls of wanting more, further intensified her efforts with the newly profound addiction.

Slowly but surely, Athan's head threw his head back to the pillow, mind wandering away with every time his manhood wrapped with her slick tongue and shove deep the back of her throat—warm and tight—with the kind of gag she had.

He groaned and groaned, wanting her to stop, but it only quickened her pace, and more rounds of pleasure coursed through him.

He was unable to do anything, he sucked in cold air sharply, with fists clenching, and muscles became strained from constant tensing up.

More and more thoughts continued to plague him, none of which he wanted to dispose of them for a new pleasure.

'Fucking hell—I've never thought this was also enjoyable, and then I imagined.'

More and more stimulation was all over him, losing his way to compete and ate her up before she could eat him whole.

Coupled with moans, his pace quickened, the hunger in him grew insatiable with seconds ticked.

"I can't get enough of this sensation! It's addicting!"

At this point, he didn't care any longer as he wanted to release.

By and by, with the stroke of his shaft and tongue swirled around the head, attacking the glans of his had him whisper in defeat.

"Vio—I'm about to—"

Athan's breathing became erratic, out of breath, and desperate—which Mystique enjoyed to the fullest.

His cuffed hands grabbed the headboard hard, enough to make a dent out of fierce and rough thrusts.

With the short yet hard spasm on his lower body, his manhood throbbed, releasing his hot seed into her mouth.

She was never afraid to swallow such a large amount, almost from her lips that engulfed against his shaft, as she made sure not a single drop of semen went to waste.

Taking her time to gulp him dry, she sat upright while looking back at him.

"You're not the only one who takes someone else's life force." She then grinned from ear to ear.

A slight chill forbade Athan's heart as he knew too well what she implied.

As someone who knew what the future held, it was no surprise why she opted for this approach in the first place.

The spell continued to impair his vision, relying on his smell, hearing, and the touch that now had heightened senses thanks to her spells; he never called them out beforehand.

Just like Mystique mentioned, it was far from over.

Athan may have gained the sweetest blood of all centuries, but he also had to pay the price out of it.

Needing each other's nectar...