10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 180 - You Have Been Fed for an Hour

Cruxius merely blinked, his expression irritatingly serene. Her body was freezing against him, lacking even a fraction of human warmth, though it was undeniably soft. But the cold pressure of her hand resting against his throat, combined with the intentional, heavy weight of her crimson stare, sent a clear, intense spike of adrenaline straight through his veins.

It wasn’t nearly enough to break his focus.

Her breath hitched at his unwavering calm, clearly thrown by the fact that he was completely unfazed despite having her fangs buried in his jugular for the better part of an hour.

"Don’t you like it?" The question hung between them, a taut, humming wire pulled tight.

Evangeline’s eyes narrowed into slits. It wasn’t anger; it was pure, clinical scrutiny.

"You... are not afraid of me," she whispered, the sound dragging over his skin.

Cruxius didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers moved with slow, calculated precision, lightly brushing the bare skin of her thigh as if dusting off lint. He didn’t grope her. He didn’t try to shove her off. He simply toed the dangerous, razor-thin line between blatant provocation and dark reverence.

"I am not afraid," he finally said, his timbre low and steady, "because fear is reserved for the uncertain."

He met her unblinking stare head-on.

"And I am very certain about exactly what you are."

A flicker of genuine surprise crossed her flawless features, quickly swallowed by something much darker. Her plush lips parted as if to formulate a sharp retort, but the words failed to materialize.

She looked down at the mess she’d made.

Her cold hands slid slowly to press flat against his broad chest, using him to ground herself rather than push away. The metallic tang of his blood still coated her tongue. It was... terrifyingly addicting.

Not just because of the rich taste, but because no matter how deeply she drank, he never seemed to empty.

"I should have drained you dry by now," she murmured, tracing a nail lightly over his sternum. "Your blood shouldn’t still be flowing like this. I drank enough to kill an elephant."

"And yet," Cruxius replied dryly, "here I am. A man, not an elephant—though I do have quite the trunk in my pants. A man with death currently seated in his lap... and questioning her own actions."

A sharp exhale punched past her lips. It was impossible to tell if it was a scoff or a sigh.

"Arrogant."

"Accurate," he corrected smoothly.

Her crimson eyes snapped back to his. "You knew I was awake the whole time. You knew I would test you the moment you crossed my threshold."

"I was hoping you would."

Evangeline shifted her weight. She pressed her hips down more firmly against his lap, reasserting her physical dominance. It wasn’t an act of force, but a suffocating display of presence.

"And what if I had simply killed you?"

Cruxius leaned up a fraction of an inch. The puncture wounds on his neck, still crusted with drying blood, pulled taut. His face was now mere inches from hers. He spoke with the maddening serenity of a man winking at a god right before the smiting.

"Then I would’ve died in the arms of the only woman who made death look like a worthy consideration."

Her lips twitched.

He caught it. That split second where her impenetrable mask—forged over centuries of flawless seduction, manipulation, and brutal restraint—finally showed a hairline fracture.

And peering through that crack wasn’t a Queen, or a lethal predator. It was simply a woman who hadn’t felt this level of uncertainty in centuries.

She broke eye contact, looking away as the moonlight slid off her bare, porcelain shoulders like a discarded veil.

"You came into my chamber to provoke me," she stated flatly. "To get a reaction. To test a theory."

"I did."

"And what exactly did you learn?"

Cruxius tilted his head. His fingers resumed their slow, hypnotic circles against the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee. It was barely a touch, just enough to stamp his living heat over her icy flesh.

"I learned that even untouchable Queens tremble when a man simply refuses to kneel."

That snapped the thread.

She moved.

Not with violent speed, but with deliberate, lethal grace.

She leaned in, her fangs fully extending. Her eyes locked onto his, unblinking and possessive, as she slowly sank her teeth back into his neck. Her arms wrapped tightly around his back, nails digging deep into his muscles as she pulled him flush against her cold chest.

Her lips sealed perfectly over the wound—not teasing, not playing—but feeding with singular purpose.

"Nh... hhh—"

The wet, trembling sound slipped from her mouth. It wasn’t born of pleasure, but the overwhelming sensation of pulling something far too rich, too endless, from his veins. It was a raw, breathless noise a body makes when the hunger runs too deep to control.

"Hh-nn... hnch..."

She latched on harder, her tongue pressing flat against his torn skin to lap up the fresh well of blood flowing freely into her mouth. The sheer, scalding warmth of it forced a ragged groan through her clenched jaw. Every greedy pull was accompanied by a choked, primal sound—half muffled against his throat, half vibrating into his chest.

Schlkk...

The sound was shockingly crude and wet. Her lips formed a tight seal around the punctures, her jaw working subtly with every heavy draw.

The gossamer nightgown brushed uselessly against his stomach, doing absolutely nothing to hide the shifting curves of her freezing body. The sheer fabric clung to her from the contrasting heat of his skin, riding dangerously high up her thighs. It bunched just enough for his palm to find bare, cold skin—firm and completely exposed.

Beneath her, Cruxius’s cock twitched involuntarily against the seam of his pants. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

This time, he didn’t bother fighting the reaction.

The suffocating heat radiating between them had shifted past simple arousal. It was the raw, heavy intimacy of being completely consumed. He could feel her sucking harder, her moans growing louder, driven not by a need to seduce, but as if his blood was filling a hollow ache she’d ignored for centuries.

"Mnnnh—!"

Her nails dug harder into his shoulders, her hips unconsciously bearing down against him. She wasn’t grinding yet, but the heavy pressure resting right over his lap was unmistakable. Her bare thighs trembled faintly against his legs.

He let one large hand roam freely beneath the hem of her gown. He dragged his palm up the freezing, bare flesh of her thigh, letting his fingers sink into the supple curve of her ass. Unflinching. Claiming.

She didn’t try to stop him.

She physically couldn’t.

Her body shuddered violently in his hold, wet moans breaking loose as she suckled greedily.

"Nhh... ahh..." Schluck. "Hhhh—chhh..."

It was sloppy. Frantic. Breathless.

Her silver hair spilled over his face like a shimmering curtain. All Cruxius focused on was the desperate pull of her mouth, the tight grip of her trembling thighs, and the way her cold body seemed to melt against him without ever truly softening.

He was being used as food, not a plaything, yet it made his heart hammer harder than any standard seduction ever had.

"You’ve been feeding like a starved beast for an hour," he murmured directly into her ear, his voice rough and low, "and yet, you’re still trembling."

Evangeline offered no response. Her mouth merely tightened its seal on his neck, drawing another harsh breath.

"Nhg—ahhhhn..."