The violet vortex didn't just transport me; it shredded my reality.
When my feet finally hit solid ground, the air was cold, smelling of stale incense and old, damp stone.
I wasn't in the Heritage Hotel anymore.
I looked down. My modern clothes were gone, replaced by heavy, silk robes that felt like a second skin.
"Welcome to the first layer of the abyss, Doctor," Lilith's voice purred from the shadows.
She was draped across a massive, fur-covered throne in the center of the room. This wasn't a hotel suite. It was a high-walled chamber in a fortress that felt infinitely older than the one I had just left.
"Where are we?" I asked, my voice still raspy from the release.
"A world where the Empress believes she is untouchable," Lilith smiled, her eyes flashing.
"She has executed every man who dared to look her in the eye. She is cold. She is calculated. She is... bored."
Lilith stood up, her naked body a sharp contrast to the dark, oppressive stone of the hall. She walked toward me, her hips swaying with a rhythmic grace that made my pulse jump.
"Your mission is simple. You are her new High Priest. You will 'counsel' her."
She leaned in, her cold breath ghosting over my lips.
"But you won't use words, Doctor. You will use the hunger I just felt in you. You will make her beg for the very things she has outlawed."
…
The heavy oak doors of the Empress's private sanctum groaned as I pushed them open.
The room was vast, lit by hundreds of flickering black candles. In the center, submerged in a pool of steaming milk and rose petals, was the Target.
Empress Kaelina.
She didn't turn around. She didn't acknowledge the intrusion. She simply sat there, her ivory shoulders glistening above the white liquid.
"You are late, Priest," she said, her voice like cracking ice.
I walked forward, my footsteps echoing on the marble floor. My mind was racing, the psychologist in me analyzing the tension in her posture, but the man in me was focused on the way the milk clung to her skin.
"I was observing the temple," I replied, my voice steady.
I stopped at the edge of the pool. From this angle, I could see the silhouette of her body beneath the surface—a perfect, forbidden map of curves.
"And what did you find?" she asked, finally turning her head.
Her eyes were sharp, intelligent, and filled with a hidden, simmering rage.
"I found that your people fear you," I said, stepping closer. "But they don't desire you. And that is why your empire is rotting."
She stood up slowly. The milk cascaded off her body, revealing the sheer, wet silk of a shift that clung to her like a translucent film.
"Desire is a weakness," she hissed, stepping out of the pool.
She walked toward me until she was inches away, her wet heat radiating against my robes.
"I have no weaknesses."
"Every woman has a weakness," I whispered, my gaze dropping to her chest, where her breath was coming in short, defiant hitches.
"Especially the ones who spend their lives pretending they are made of stone."
I reached out, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw. She didn't flinch. She didn't call the guards.
She just watched me, her pupils beginning to dilate as the psychological pressure began to take hold.
…
Kaelina's skin was cold from the milk, but underneath, I could feel the thrum of a trapped fire.
She stood frozen as my hand slid from her jaw down to the damp silk covering her shoulder. She was used to being worshipped or feared—never touched.
"You speak of desire as if you can control it," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"I don't control it," I replied, my voice dropping to a low, predatory register.
"I unleash it."
I stepped into her space, my boots clicking against the wet marble. I forced her to back up until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the stone bath.
She gasped as I gripped her waist, my fingers sinking into the soft flesh. The wet silk of her shift was a thin, useless barrier between us.
"Tell me, Empress," I rasped, leaning in until our noses brushed.
"When was the last time someone made you feel small? Not as a ruler... but as a woman?"
Her breath hitched. I could see the conflict in her eyes—the urge to scream for her guards battling the primal need to be handled.
I didn't wait for her to choose.
I pulled her flush against me, the heavy silk of my Priest's robes soaking up the moisture from her body. The sensation of her cold, wet breasts pressing against my chest was an instant, electric jolt.
"You are overstepping," she managed to say, though her hands were already climbing my chest, her fingers clenching the fabric of my robes.
"I am just getting started."
I slid my hand down, my palm flat against her stomach before dipping lower. I felt the heat radiating through the wet silk between her thighs.
She was already slick. The "untouchable" Empress was soaking through her royal garments at the mere suggestion of surrender.
"Look at me," I commanded.
She obeyed, her eyes wide and glazed with a sudden, overwhelming hunger.
I reached down and gripped the hem of her shift, slowly bunching the wet fabric upward. I watched the goosebumps break out across her pale skin as the cool air hit her.
"Lilith was right," I whispered, my lips ghosting over her collarbone.
"You aren't a statue. You're a volcano waiting for someone to break the seal."
I hiked the silk all the way to her waist and lifted her, sitting her down on the wide, cold marble lip of the bath. Her legs fell open naturally, an instinctive invitation that she seemed powerless to stop.
The sight was enough to make my vision swim. She was perfectly groomed, her skin glistening with rose oil and milk, her folds already weeping with a thick, translucent arousal that smelled of honey and defiance.
"Now," I said, my thumb tracing the sensitive line of her inner thigh.
"Let's see how much of that imperial pride is left when I'm buried inside you."
…
The cold marble of the bath was a shock against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of my hand as I finally made contact.
I didn't rush. I wanted her to feel the weight of every second she had spent pretending to be a goddess. I used two fingers to part her, the wet silk of her shift still tangled around her waist as a reminder of her fallen status.
"Please," she gasped, her head falling back against the stone wall. "I can't... I shouldn't want this."
"But you do," I rasped. "You want to be used. You want to forget the throne and remember the friction."
I guided myself to her entrance, the head of my cock catching on the slick, honeyed folds of her arousal. She was incredibly tight—untested—and the way she gripped me even before I pushed inside was driving my own self-control into the dirt.
I pushed forward, just an inch, letting her feel the stretch. Her internal muscles clamped down on me instantly, a rhythmic, desperate pulsing that told me she was right on the edge of a psychological break.
"Is this what you feared, Kaelina?" I whispered, my teeth grazing her ear. "That a 'lowly' Priest could make you tremble like a servant?"
"Yes," she whimpered, her fingers digging into the muscles of my arms, her knuckles white. "God, yes. Just... give it to me. All of it."
I didn't hold back. I slammed home, my hips hitting hers with a heavy, wet thud that echoed through the silent sanctum. The sensation was overwhelming—like sliding into a velvet-lined furnace.
I began a savage, rhythmic grind, my cock sliding through the thick coating of her arousal, bottoming out against her womb with every thrust. The sound of our bodies colliding—that heavy, slapping friction—was the only law left in the room.
"More!" she screamed, her legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me even deeper. "Give me more! Make me forget who I am!"
I obliged. I picked up the pace, my thrusts becoming a blur of friction and heat. Every time I withdrew, the suction of her tightness tried to pull me back, her pussy lips gripping me with a desperate, clenching hunger.
The milk from her body was mixing with our combined arousal, creating a slick, white froth that coated my thighs and the marble beneath us. I could feel the tremors starting deep in her core, a storm that was about to shatter her imperial mask forever.
I leaned down and captured her mouth, my tongue mirroring the rhythmic violence of my lower body. She tasted like wine and desperation.
"Tell me," I growled against her lips. "Who owns you?"
"You do!" she sobbed, her body arching as the first waves of a massive orgasm began to take hold. "You own the Empress! You own me!"
I felt my own pressure reaching the breaking point. The friction was a white-hot roar in my ears. I gripped her hips until the stone bit into her skin and delivered the final, driving thrusts that sent us both over the edge.
The release was cataclysmic. I poured myself into her, filling her deep with every rhythmic pulse of my cock, while she screamed into my shoulder, her walls clenching me in a series of agonizingly perfect spasms.
As the echoes of our heavy breathing faded into the shadows of the temple, I felt a familiar, cold vibration in the air
Lilith was watching from the dark. And the mission was far from over.