Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1852: New Sensation

Black Fang looked at Quinlan.

One look, across the ruin of her sister. The grin that answered it had too many teeth in it.

"No." Ayame scrambled for words faster than her wrecked body could supply them. "Quin, don’t you dare..."

Quinlan’s hand closed around her ponytail and pulled her head back, making her mouth fall open.

Black Fang unstoppered the vial with her thumb, and dipped one fingertip into the dark liquid. She pressed the wet fingertip to Ayame’s tongue, held it for one heartbeat, and drew it away clean.

"...That’s it?" Ayame’s bravado surged ahead of her sense. "Sister, I thought you were a terrible sadist. This is noth..."

The warmth found her three heartbeats later, blooming from her tongue as if it had been there all along and only now decided to introduce itself. It spread through her neck, down her chest, and pooled low in her belly where the mark sat. The mark pulsed once in answer, and the warmth went deeper.

"...ing."

It felt good. The rookie blend had been a warm bath, pleasant and manageable, and this was something past that, pleasure compressed into chemistry, gentle at first and climbing with the patience of a tide. There was no ceiling anywhere above it.

"Oh." Her voice came out very small. "Oh, that’s..."

She was still impaled on Quinlan from before. He hadn’t moved at all, and the sensation found that fullness and wrapped every nerve around the fact of him until her own heartbeat became a problem.

"That’s different."

"Did you really think she’d cause you pain?" Quinlan shook his head. "I’m disappointed. What was the point of all your sisterly bonding?"

"I’m hurt..." Black Fang whispered, almost looking as if she was about to cry. "She called me a terrible sadist..."

"HAH? Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my psychopath of a sis-" Ayame screeched but was interrupted when Quinlan began to move again.

"How many times must I tell you to treat your elder sister with respect?" he demanded, hands still in her hair, still pulling her head back. That motion allowed their eyes to meet while he was pounding away at her fiercely.

"You...! I can’t believe it- Ahng! You two are ganging up on mEeeeh?!"

"Stop screeching and..."

"I’m not screeching!" Ayame hissed instantly, but before she could add more, Quinlan finished his sentence.

"Let me taste that."

He leaned down mid-thrust, took her chin in his free hand, and kissed her from above.

His tongue swept hers, slow and thorough, and the venom on her mouth met the heat of his and did something neither of them had planned for. Ayame’s fists beat his thighs once, twice, then opened and grabbed on, and a sound climbed out of the kiss that had nothing to do with outrage.

He pulled back, ran his tongue across his lower lip, and considered the flavor like a man browsing a market stall.

"Sweet. There’s a kick at the end."

"Your response is unnatural," said Black Fang, studying his face. She knew for a fact he wasn’t immune to poison.

’Was the dosage too diluted, or has he simply grown this sturdy?’

"NOBODY ASKED FOR A REVIEW!" Ayame shrieked from under him, flushed to her ears, and the shrieking might have carried more weight if her hips hadn’t been chasing his. "And stop kissing me while you’re... while I’m... ahn!"

The venom was climbing. She could feel it now, the tide that had no ceiling, and the kiss had spread it from her tongue through her whole mouth until she was tasting pleasure with every breath she took.

"S... sis... what did you... give me..."

"I’d suggest a slower pace for maximum effect," Black Fang said instead of replying.

Quinlan obliged, and the slower pace gave the venom time to climb between each plunge, which was worse, so much worse, and Ayame understood then that her sister had not handled poison this long without learning exactly how mercy worked and how to withhold it.

A sound left her that she would deny making until her dying day. "AAaAHN~!? W... wait, wait, it’s... HYAAH!!" Her spine arched, her vision whited out, and the orgasm that hit her should have been the end.

It rolled into the next one without a gap. The next one fed the one after it, and her voice gave up on language somewhere between the second and the third.

By the third minute, or the third century, Ayame’s sense of time had filed for early retirement. The venom stripped her composure in layers: the smugness first, then the commentary, then the tildes, then the words themselves, each one dissolved before the next could take its place.

What remained was a small woman, glowing and thoroughly outmatched, being handled by two people who had fallen, without discussion, into a rhythm.

Just as Ayame had asked of her not long ago, Black Fang held her sister’s head steady, gathered the sweat-dark hair from her face when it plastered there, pressed two cool fingers to her wrist when the orgasms began to stack.

Every touch had a reason.

Then they didn’t.

The palm on Ayame’s shoulder stayed after the shoulder was steady. The fingers in her hair shifted from gathering to combing, slow, the same careful motion from the venom bath last night, and Black Fang’s thumb traced the line of her sister’s jaw without any medical reason to be there.

"Ayame." The whisper came tender, and entirely wrong on her. "I am greatly disappointed."

"Shut... up..." Ayame managed, and Quinlan punished the disrespect with a thrust that turned the next word into a wail.

Black Fang continued as if the wail had never happened. "I bathed you. I combed your hair." Her fingers kept their slow rhythm in the dark tangles. "For the first time in my life, I truly let my guard down."

Another deep plunge. Ayame’s breath shattered, reformed, held.

"And what do you do? You scream about it to the whole world the next morning."

"Ugh!" Ayame’s expression changed between one beat of his hips and the next, her mouth drooping, guilt arriving where the venom couldn’t reach. "I’m sorry... I was just... so happy..."

"Hmm..." Black Fang’s hand stilled in her hair, then resumed, softer.

"Ever since Kaede betrayed me, I thought- hnngg!! that I would never have a sister again... Then I learned of your story... of what my father did..." He drove in deep and her voice cracked, but she shoved through it. "I’ve been so conflicted... nnh... Then you sacrificed yourself for us..."

The hand in her hair stopped.

"And I voted against rushing to save you..." She was tearing up now. "The guilt... the shock... all of it..."

Quinlan slowed on his own. He read the room and his pace settled into letting the two sisters actually converse.

Though of course he still kept pummeling away.

"It left me after yesterday... After you bathed me and stayed to comb my hair..." The tears and the aftershocks ran together down her temples. "I was too happy. I’m sorry..."

Black Fang said nothing.

Her hand moved once in Ayame’s hair, slow, and came to rest against the side of her sister’s face. It lingered there, palm to cheek.