Chapter 606: Paradise *

Zenith smiled and let the illusion of her human disguise melt away. Blue skin emerged like the revelation of a hidden jewel.

Her true demonic form seemed to drink in the light rather than merely reflect it; every line of her body sharpened and was enhanced by that vivid otherworldly hue.

The change transformed her beauty into an even more breathtaking sight.

The other succubi stared.

For a few stunned heartbeats, even the fevered arousal in the air gave way to pure astonishment.

"I still can’t believe she’s truly a demon," Jaeneva said, her voice hushed with disbelief and fascination. "And the way Lady Zenith usually acts, you would never believe she can be counted among our murderous kin."

Their gazes lingered on Zenith with open wonder, drawn to the elegant cruelty and impossible grace of her demonic beauty.

Only Veyra seemed utterly uninterested.

She had eyes for nothing and no one except Elion.

She cupped his face in both hands and kissed him with wild intensity. Her mouth moved over his greedily, her body pressed flush to his as her bare breasts flattened softly against his chest.

Every roll of her hips dragged her drenched cunt against his thigh, and by now his entire leg was soaked through with her fluids.

She was making a mess of him without the slightest trace of shame, panting into his mouth as though she could not decide whether she wanted to kiss him, ride him, or simply lose her mind against him first.

Elion’s hand slid to her waist.

"You’re soaking me," he murmured into her lips.

Veyra answered with another hard kiss and a needy roll of her hips that dragged a low breath from his chest.

"Then do something about it," she whispered, stealing his lips in another kiss, biting down on his lower lip teasingly.

Veyra’s triumphant assault lasted all of three seconds.

"Kyaaa!!!" She suddenly let out a cute yelp as she was plucked away from Elion’s embrace.

The shrill, startled cry burst out of her as she was unceremoniously yanked backward, plucked off Elion’s lap with so little warning that her limbs flailed for a beat before she landed on the floor in an indignant heap.

The impact was hardly brutal, but it was enough to bruise her pride, which, judging by the scandalized look she threw upward, had suffered a grievous wound.

Ophelia stood over her with one hand on her hip, the other still half-extended from the swift intervention.

Her expression carried the calm, elder-sister severity of someone correcting a child who had skipped to the front of a line she knew perfectly well existed.

"There’s an order to these things, Veyra," she said. "Who told you that you could go first?"

"Tatatatat..."

Veyra hissed through her teeth as she rubbed at her sore backside, glaring up at her sister with all the betrayal of a woman who believed herself deeply wronged by fate, family, and society at large.

"Oh, come on, Esme! You’ve already had your fun with him before. Can’t you let me have him first just this once?"

The sheer outrage in her voice nearly made it sound reasonable.

"Oho!"

Elion’s exclamation came out with open delight, his eyes brightening as though someone had just gifted him a festival in his honor.

Heat surged through him so sharply that the already considerably large bulge straining his discarded trousers swelled harder still, every pulse of blood through his body making his arousal throb with renewed force.

It was impossible not to feel absurdly pleased by the scene in front of him.

Seven beautiful women stood naked in the cabin, and now some of them were actively arguing over who would get to mount him first.

If the gods wanted to construct a private paradise for an overindulged man, it would look very much like this.

Jaeneva, who had been watching the dispute with widening eyes and a grin that grew more mischievous by the second, suddenly lifted a finger.

"Wait. I have an idea."

Something about the way she said it made the others’ heads turn.

The succubus looked almost boyishly pleased with herself, as though inspiration had fallen straight from the heavens into her lap.

Before Elion could ask what she meant, she was already gathering the others with eager little gestures, pulling Veyra up off the floor and ushering the women toward the far side of the cabin.

Veyra, still pouting, went along with it after only token resistance.

It became immediately obvious that whatever scheme had seized Jaeneva’s imagination, it was not intended for Elion’s ears.

As they moved away, their different figures shifted and swayed in the soft cabin light.

Slender waists, full hips, long legs, and the hypnotic rolling motion of several beautiful, but differently shaped asses jiggling in tandem with each step.

Elion watched them go with visible appreciation, then licked his lips and breathed out a long, satisfied sigh.

He might have enjoyed the sight even more if he could have heard what they were plotting.

Unfortunately, the faint shimmer that flashed into being around them told him that opportunity had been decisively stolen from him.

A sound-dampening barrier settled over their huddle, swallowing whatever excited chatter passed between them as the women clustered together in a circle.

His mouth twisted.

"Well, shit," he muttered to himself. "They even put up a barrier. What kind of top-secret conspiracy am I being subjected to in my own home?"

The answer, judging by the occasional glance they cast in his direction and the increasingly wicked smiles spreading through the group, was probably the sort he would enjoy far too much.

Since he had been temporarily excluded from the strategizing, Elion decided to make practical use of the time.

He finished stripping, removing what little was left, since Veyra had done the honours of ripping his shirt apart.

The last of his clothes hit the floor, and the cabin air brushed over bare skin now fully freed of cloth and restraint.

He rolled his shoulders once, feeling a subtle loosening of tension through his frame, and looked down.

His cock stood proudly between his thighs, thick and rigid, the length of it pulsing in time with his racing heartbeat.

Veins stood out along the shaft, and the flushed head tilted upward with almost belligerent confidence, as if it had every intention of meeting whatever challenge seven eager succubi were about to present.

The sight of himself in this state might have embarrassed a lesser man. Elion only felt more eager.

He let out a low huff of laughter.

"We’re in for a long shift, my friend," he murmured, glancing downward at his penis with mock solemnity. "Try not to die of overachievement."

Across the cabin, the women were still in conference, though "conference" was perhaps too dignified a word for the sight of seven naked beauties crowded together and whispering like co-conspirators planning a royal assassination.

Veyra was gesturing wildly, Esme seemed to be correcting her, Ophelia watched with the composed patience of a priestess tolerating a room full of children, and Jaeneva, whose idea this had been, looked altogether too delighted with herself.

...

A few moments later, he found himself standing in the open space between the two rows of seats in the cabin’s lounge area, staring ahead in stunned appreciation as though his soul had momentarily detached from his body.

"Paradise," he murmured under his breath, almost reverently.

The word escaped him like a prayer.

Soft giggles rippled through the room as the women glanced back over their shoulders at him, clearly pleased by the effect they had achieved. And truly, he could hardly be blamed.

The sight before him was enough to make even a saint lose his composure.

Around the broad circular couch, all seven of them had arranged themselves leaning forward over the backrests with their hands gripping the top edges for balance while their knees rested on the cushions.

The pose arched each of their bodies beautifully, drawing the eye along the lines of their backs, the soft sway of their hips, the lush fullness of their bountiful rears.

Every one of them was presented differently, yet together they formed a display so shamelessly enticing it bordered on cruel.

And below those raised hips, each glistening pussy was offered plainly to him, already wet and swollen with anticipation, the cabin light catching on their slick folds in a way that made his mouth go dry.

It was as if they had laid out a feast and then stood back to watch whether he would survive the first look.