Sophie had been planning this night for one thousand and ninety-five days.
She stood before her mirror, adjusting the lingerie with trembling fingers. Black lace. Sheer. Heart-shaped cutouts over the nipples. A matching thong that left absolutely nothing to imagination. Over it, a silk nightgown so thin it might as well have been transparent.
A knock at the door.
Sophie's heart stopped.
Then it exploded into a sprint.
The door opened.
Kael stood in the corridor, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a small data chip he'd been staring at. He looked up as the door swung wide.
Sophie grabbed him by the collar and pulled him inside.
Kael's back hit the mattress before he could speak.
Sophie was on him. Mouth on his. Hands in his hair. Body pressed against his with a desperation that bordered on violence. She kissed him like a drowning woman finding air.
"Three years," she gasped between kisses. "Three fucking years—you left me—you left me wanting—I thought about you every night—every single night—"
"Sophie—"
"Don't." She kissed him harder. "Don't say my name like that unless you mean it."
"Mean what?"
"Like you want me."
Kael grabbed her jaw and held her still.
Sophie froze.
His silver eyes met hers. Calm. Unruffled. Amused.
"Sophie," he said slowly. "I walked here. I knocked on your door. I came to your room." A smile curved his lips — lazy, confident, devastating. "What exactly about that suggests I don't want you?"
Her breath hitched.
"Now." He released her jaw and leaned back against the headboard, arms spread. "Show me what three years of waiting looks like."
Sophie's hands moved before her brain could catch up.
She pulled his shirt over his head. Ran her palms down his chest — scarred, hard, perfect in a way that made her core clench. Three years of body refinement had turned his physique into something sculpted. Not bulky. Lean and dense. Every muscle defined.
Her hands found his waistband.
She yanked it down.
His cock sprang free.
Sophie stared.
She'd seen it before. Touched it. Tasted it. But that had been three years ago, and memory hadn't done it justice.
He was huge. Thick and long, flushed dark, already half-hard and growing. A prominent vein ran along the underside. The head was broad, glistening with precum.
Her mind — traitor that it was — flashed to the Patriarch.
She'd seen his cock exactly twice. Both times in darkness. Both times flaccid. Both times underwhelming — a bitter irony for a man who ruled thirteen worlds.
Kael was eighteen.
And he made the Patriarch look like a footnote.
"Fuck," she breathed.
"Something wrong?"
"Nothing." Her voice was hoarse. "Absolutely nothing."
She wrapped her hand around him.
He pulsed in her grip. Hot and hard.
Sophie lowered her head and took him into her mouth.
Kael watched her.
Sophie's lips stretched around his shaft, taking him deeper than she had three years ago. Her tongue flicked along the underside as she worked, and her hand — the one not gripping his base — had slipped between her own thighs.
She was touching herself while sucking him off.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and Kael saw something wild in them. Not just arousal. Hunger. Three years of starvation compressed into a single act.
She moaned around his cock.
The vibration traveled up his shaft and settled in his spine.
Kael groaned.
Sophie smiled around him.
Satisfaction. Pure, undiluted satisfaction. She'd made him groan.
She redoubled her efforts.
Her head bobbed faster. Her tongue worked harder. Her fingers pumped inside herself with wet, squelching sounds that filled the room alongside the soft schlick schlick of her mouth on his cock.
"You're soaked," Kael murmured. "I can hear you from here."
Sophie pulled off him with a wet pop.
"I've been soaked since I put this lingerie on." She stroked him slowly, lubricating his shaft with her saliva.
"That's concerning."
"I don't care."
She released him and sat back on her heels.
Then she cupped her breasts — large, heavy, spilling over the lace — and wrapped them around his cock.
Kael's breath caught.
Sophie pushed her breasts together, engulfing his shaft in soft, warm flesh. The tip poked out from her cleavage, flushed and glistening. She looked down at it, then up at him.
And she leaned forward.
Her mouth took the exposed tip while her breasts worked the shaft.
Up. Down. Up. Down. The friction of her skin against his, the wet heat of her mouth on the head, the visual of her cleavage swallowing him whole—
"Where," Kael's voice came out rougher than intended, "did you learn this?"
Sophie froze.
A flush spread from her cheeks down her neck.
Flashback.
Sophie sitting alone in her quarters at 2 AM. Communication terminal glowing. Browser history she'd never let anyone see. Videos playing on mute. Articles with titles like "How to Drive Your Man Wild" and "Breast Techniques He Won't Forget." Her face burning as she watched, took notes, practiced with her hands when no one was looking.
End flashback.
"None of your business," she said, cheeks flaming.
"Interesting answer."
"Shut up."
She resumed the motion.
Her breasts slid up and down his shaft in a rhythm she'd practiced literally hundreds of times — on pillows, on her own hands, on anything that approximated the size she'd been fantasizing about. The tip of his cock disappeared into her mouth with each downward stroke, her tongue swirling around it before her breasts pushed it back out.
Kael's jaw tightened.
His hips twitched.
He was close.
Sophie felt it — the way his shaft pulsed between her breasts, the way his breathing roughened, the way his hand instinctively moved toward her head.
She worked faster.
Up. Down. Suck. Lick. Squeeze.
"Sophie—"
She felt the tension build.
His cock throbbed.
And then Kael's hand closed around the back of her head.
He pulled her forward.
His entire length slid into her mouth — past her tongue, past her throat, down. Sophie's eyes went wide. Her throat bulged. She couldn't breathe.
He held her there.
And he came.
Hot, thick ropes of semen flooded her throat. Sophie's eyes rolled backward. Her body convulsed — not from suffocation but from ecstasy. The taste of him, the feel of him filling her mouth, the feeling of being used like this—
Finally.
Finally.
Kael released her.
Sophie pulled back, gasping, a string of saliva and semen connecting her lips to his cock. Her eyes were unfocused. Her cheeks were wet with tears she hadn't realized she'd shed.
"Kael's semen," she whispered. "Finally."
She swallowed.
Every drop.
Then she looked down and saw a small pool of white on the bedsheet where she'd missed.
Without hesitation, Sophie bent down and licked it up.
She sat back on her heels, licking her lips, chest heaving, a dreamy smile on her face.
Kael stared at her.
"Did I break her?"
Kael was quiet for a long moment.
Then he laughed.
"You're something else, Sophie Mann."
"Is that a compliment?"
"I haven't decided yet."
She smiled.
[QUEST: THE SEVENTH WIFE'S DEVOTION]
Status: COMPLETE
Note: Quest complete. Rewards already distributed. This interaction was... personal.
Fragmented One.
"Mm?"
Her love meter exceeded 100 some time ago. The System stopped tracking it because the scale doesn't go higher. If I were to estimate...
"I don't need an estimate."
Kael looked at Sophie — sprawled on the bed, lingerie askew, face flushed, eyes hazy with afterglow. She looked like a woman who had finally gotten everything she'd ever wanted and couldn't quite believe it was real.
Sophie crawled toward him, pressing her body against his, her breasts soft against his chest.
"Round two?" she murmured.
Kael looked down at her.
His silver eyes gleamed.
"Who said there was a round one? That was a warm-up."
Sophie's breath caught.
Kael's hand found her hip.
"Take off the lingerie."
She obeyed.