Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives

Chapter 1736: I’m Not a Toy

Villain Ch 1736. I’m Not a Toy

Zoe was the first to move. She was impulsive and hungry, full of fire she pretended to hide under sarcasm. But this morning—her hands shook as she gripped his thighs and dragged her mouth over his hip bone like he was carved from marble and she’d been starving for weeks.

He moaned again. Not sharp. Not theatrical. Just wrecked.

It made her wetter than it should’ve.

Behind her, Shea exhaled like she was lighting a match.

“I like this version of him,” she whispered, her voice too calm for how fast her heart pounded.

Jane hummed. “Yeah. I want more of it.”

Alice didn’t speak—she just kissed down his chest, slower than the others, like she was spelling a prayer with her lips. Her fingers curled against his side as she went, soft but certain.

Vivian was already straddling his waist, her thighs flexing as she leaned forward and kissed his throat. “Still breathing?” she asked, smirking against his pulse.

“Barely,” Allen rasped.

Good.

That was the point.

Because if they were going to break the Devil Emperor, they were going to break him.

Larissa appeared beside him like a shadow in satin, eyes dark and calm. “Don’t tease him,” she said, brushing his jaw with the back of her fingers. “Use him.”

Shea laughed softly. “We’re not using him. He’s offering.”

And he was.

Because even lying there—especially lying there—Allen looked calm. Devastatingly so. That infuriating, signature stillness wrapped around him, even as his chest rose and fell too fast, even as his fingers curled into the sheets like he needed something to hold onto.

His jaw clenched. His lashes trembled. But his gaze—when it opened, when it landed on them—held no fear. No panic.

Just that steady, maddening patience.

He looked like a man who knew exactly what he was surrendering to.

Allen made a sound at that—a hoarse, desperate sound, his back arching slightly as if to say ’yes, take it.’

So they did.

Jane was the first to ride him.

No ceremony. No build-up.

She was already wet, already shaking, already split between wanting to kiss him and wanting to ruin him. She sank onto him with a sharp gasp, and he filled her in a way that made stars erupt behind her eyelids.

Allen groaned beneath her, head tilting back into Shea’s lap.

“Oh my God,” Jane choked, hips stuttering. “He’s… he’s so…”

She couldn’t finish.

Didn’t need to.

His hands found her hips, but didn’t guide. Didn’t force.

He just held on. Letting her take and take and take.

Vivian leaned forward again, watching Jane move—watching Allen’s stomach tense, his face twist, the way he kept moaning. Not quietly. Not like a man in control. But like he couldn’t help it.

She bit her lip.

He looked beautiful when he gave in.

Jane came first—loud, shaking, sweat already streaking her back as she collapsed forward against his chest, gasping like she’d run a marathon.

But Allen wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Alice climbed over him next, soft and slow like a lullaby with teeth. She kissed him once, on the lips, and then again on his throat before she sank down onto him like she’d always belonged there.

And Allen… Allen shivered.

His voice cracked. “Alice—f*ck—”

She didn’t answer.

Just moved.

Gentle at first, then deeper. Harder. Her hands pressed against his chest as she rode him with her mouth parted and her breath hitched, chasing the rhythm of his groans.

Shea leaned down and kissed his temple. “You’re doing so well,” she whispered like a lullaby. “Look at you. Letting us use you like this.”

“I’m not a toy,” he whispered.

He could barely think.

Sweat rolled down his neck. His chest. His abs. And the girls kissed it off like it was holy.

Vivian, now behind Alice, kissed his ribs. Jane kissed his inner thigh. Larissa ran her fingers over the spot just under his ear that made him jolt. He twitched again. He was shaking. He was…

“Oh my God,” Alice gasped, her eyes fluttering. “I—”

She came.

Hard.

And when she rolled off him, breathless and flushed, it was Shea who climbed over next, already breathless with anticipation.

“You just came yet… You’re still so hard,” she whispered, dragging her body against his. “God, Allen…”

He couldn’t speak.

Could barely groan.

Because it wasn’t just the sex—it was the worship.

They weren’t using him.

They were praying.

And he was the altar.

Shea was louder than the rest—she always was. Her hips slapped against his with abandon, curls wild, her breath ragged as she kept whispering his name. Not shouting. Just saying it like it meant something.

And to them—it did.

Zoe kissed his knuckles.

Jane kissed his stomach.

Alice kissed his mouth again and fed him soft little moans like he was starving for sound.

When Larissa finally came forward, everything stilled.

Because Larissa was different.

She didn’t climb over him like she needed to prove something.

She just settled.

Smooth and easy.

Like she belonged there more than anyone else.

Allen gasped when she sank down.

She leaned forward, kissed his lips. Whispered something no one else could hear.

And then she moved.

Slow. Intentional. Deep.

He moaned so loud it echoed.

His voice broke—low, guttural, sharp around the edges. “Keep going.”

Not a plea.

A command dressed in surrender.

A shiver ran through Larissa as she met his eyes, and for a second, it was hard to tell who was really in control anymore. But he didn’t move. Didn’t flip the game.

He just laid there, letting her take him deeper, slower, harder.

Letting her have him.

Because even now, even wrecked—Allen did not beg.

He just let himself be devoured.

She rode him until he was trembling beneath her, his hands gripping the sheets like they were the only thing tethering him to reality.

And when he finally broke…

When Allen shattered…

It wasn’t with a roar.

It was with a groan so deep, that every single one of them felt it in their bones.

His body arched. His mouth parted. His hands gripped Larissa’s hips like she was all he had.

He came like a man who’d been holding it back for so long.

And when it was over…

They just kissed him.

All of them.

One by one.

And Allen?

Allen just lay there.

Wrecked. Drenched. Breathing like he’d been through war.

Because maybe he had.

And maybe?

He didn’t mind losing.