Evil Monarch: The Psycho's Harem

Anos wasted no time.

With a single, fluid motion, he pushed forward, burying his rod deep within Iris's trembling, welcoming heat.

Her reaction was instantaneous—

"AHH… AHHH—!"

A shattered cry of pleasure escaped her lips, her entire body arching against him, unable to contain the sheer intensity of it. Tight. Hot. Perfect.

Anos felt his breath hitch, his control wavering as her walls clenched around him, a vice of pure, exquisite torment.

So unbearably tight…

His first thrust nearly shattered his restraint, a sensation so overwhelming that he had to grit his teeth, forcing himself to hold back. Not yet.

He needed something—anything—to keep himself from succumbing too soon.

So, as he drew back, preparing for his second plunge, he seized her lips, claiming her in a deep, desperate kiss.

Iris melted into him, her moans spilling into his mouth, her fingers digging into his skin as he thrust again—deeper, harder, taming her body with every slow, deliberate stroke.

His hands found her, one tracing the swell of her breast, fingers teasing, kneading, while the other gripped her waist, anchoring her as his movements became a relentless rhythm.

The more he thrusted into her, the more she tightened around him, her body reacting instinctively, almost devouring him whole.

And then—

Her breath hitched, her legs tensed around his waist, her insides quivered, clenching with unbearable intensity.

"A-Anos—!"

She broke beneath him, her body trembling violently as she reached the peak of pleasure, her essence spilling over him in waves of unbearable heat.

That was it—

Anos's restraint snapped.

A low growl tore from his throat, his body following hers into the abyss of release, his mind momentarily going blank as his control shattered completely.

For the first time since his birth—he let himself go.

(A/N: Anos was a virgin.)

And he made sure she felt every second of it.

Though Anos had just claimed her, he was far from satisfied.

If anything, his desire only surged, burning hotter—demanding more.

And he wasn't alone.

Iris wanted more.

Her movements were instinctual, primal, her body trembling with need as she slowly repositioned herself—on her hands and knees, her hips lifted invitingly.

A wordless plea. A challenge. A temptation.

Anos's gaze darkened, his ruby eyes glowing with an unearthly hunger as he took in the sight before him.

Her bare, supple form, her spine arching, her hips swaying ever so slightly—taunting him.

And then—

A wicked smirk curled upon his lips.

His palm came down hard against her flesh.

PAH!

A sharp, resonating slap filled the chamber, followed by Iris's sweet, trembling moan.

"Ahh—!"

Her body jolted from the impact, the sting fading into pleasure, making her tremble in anticipation.

Anos's arousal surged, his desire now fully rekindled, his body responding to her submission with an undeniable, aching need.

He gripped her waist, his fingers pressing possessively into her soft skin as he positioned himself once more.

And then—

With a single, dominant thrust, he buried himself within her, a low growl of satisfaction escaping his lips as her body welcomed him back, tighter and needier than before.

Iris cried out, her hands clutching the sheets, her breath coming in rapid, helpless pants.

Anos didn't stop.

His movements were unrelenting, merciless, consuming, each thrust sending her deeper into mindless pleasure.

His hands moved in rhythm, spanking, gripping, teasing, heightening every sensation as he drove her closer and closer to madness.

The only sounds filling the chamber were their ragged moans, the deep, rhythmic slaps of skin against skin, and the growing heat of their unending hunger.

Iris shuddered violently, a final, euphoric cry spilling from her lips as she succumbed to another earth-shattering release, her body trembling beneath him.

Anos groaned lowly, his grip on her waist tightening, his movements turning primal, unyielding, as he followed her into the abyss.

With one final, deep, claiming thrust, he buried himself inside her, a growl of raw satisfaction escaping his lips as he flooded her depths, marking her completely, irrevocably as his.

But it wasn't enough.

Not for him.

Not for her.

Their bodies moved again. Again. And again. And again.

For hours, they lost themselves in an endless, intoxicating rhythm, the night stretching into an eternity of flesh, heat, and pleasure.

By the time the final climax took them both, leaving them utterly spent, the world around them had become a blur of sweat-slicked skin and tangled limbs.

Anos collapsed atop Iris, their heated bodies melded together, their breaths coming in ragged, exhausted pants.

The faint glow of moonlight cast over their entwined forms, illuminating the evidence of their passionate indulgence—the sheen of sweat, the lingering marks of possession, the way their bodies clung to each other as if unwilling to part.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them could move.

A deep, satisfied sigh left Iris's lips as she nestled closer, her exhaustion finally overtaking her.

Anos, too, felt the creeping weight of fatigue—his body utterly spent, yet his heart beating with a newfound sense of completion, of belonging—this world was really his.

And so, tangled in each other's arms, they succumbed to sleep, the remnants of their passion sealing them together even in slumber.

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