They collapsed in a heap on the wrecked table, their bodies slick and spent, and the dining hall reeking of their debauchery—the plates were shattered, the food was ruined, and every surface was coated in the evidence of their frantic rutting.
"That was... divine," Ophelia panted, tracing a finger through the sticky mess on her thigh.
Esme chuckled weakly as she nuzzled Elion's chest. "Round two after we clean up? Or should we just fuck on the floor next?"
Elion smirked, pulling them closer. "Keep talking like that, and we'll never leave this room."
A soft chime echoed in Elion's mind. The system's interface flickered to life in his vision.
[Love Metre Update]
[Esme's Affection - 60% → 100%]
[Ophelia's Affection - 60% → 100%]
[Obsession confirmed]
[These succubi crave your dominance and seed above all else]
He stifled a grin. They had become obsessed with him—or more precisely, his cock—but in their world, it amounted to the same insatiable thing.
