The Heroine is My Stepsister, and I'm her Final Boss-Chapter 127: Sin part 2

She couldn’t help it—her legs trembled the moment his two thick fingers dipped into her slick heat. I should not be... this aroused... she thought, her resolve crumbling as she leaned into him, her forehead resting on his thick, muscled shoulder. The scent of him—sweat, musk, and something raw—flooded her senses, intoxicating her further. But she wouldn’t surrender. Not yet. She was the one in control, the abuser of this moment. Her cold fingers trailed to his shaft, circling the swollen tip with a teasing slowness, her nails grazing just enough to blend pain with pleasure. He twitched under her touch, a silent testament to her power.

"Oh, Aiden," she purred, her voice a silken lash, "do you know how long I’ve wanted this? To feel you... to own you like this?" Her fingers tightened slightly, stroking down his length with deliberate pressure, feeling every vein, every pulse of his desire. "You’re so hard for me... so desperate. I can feel it—your body begging even when your lips won’t."

His fingers moved inside her, twirling and twisting with an artist’s precision, brushing every hidden spot as if he were painting her pleasure stroke by stroke. No one had ever touched her like this—satisfying each aching crevice while his thumb pressed and shook her clit with a dexterity that left her gasping.

Her body betrayed her, hips rocking to his rhythm, her slick walls clenching around him. She was the Queen, a sovereign of iron will, yet here she was, unraveling under his hands.

"...Aah! ...Ohh! ...Oohh!!" Her moans spilled free, raw and unrestrained, her mouth falling open as her body danced to his will. His fingers jammed deeper, faster, a relentless storm inside her, and she clutched his shoulder, nails digging into his flesh as waves of heat crashed through her.

Then she saw her—Daisy, peering from the shadows, her wide eyes glistening with despair. Isabella’s lips curled into a wicked smile as their gazes locked. That rush—sinful, delicious—surged through her veins. "Look at her, Aiden," she whispered, her voice dripping with dark honey, "watching us... breaking as she sees me take you. Does it excite you too? Knowing she’s helpless while I have you like this?" Her strokes grew bolder, her thumb smearing the bead of precum over his tip, slicking her grip as she pumped him with a slow, torturous rhythm. "You’re mine right now... mine to tease, mine to ruin."

Aiden’s breath grew ragged, his chest heaving under her words, but he said nothing—just listened, his yellow eyes dark with a storm of lust and restraint. His fingers never faltered, curling inside her, hitting a spot so deep, so untouched, that her vision blurred. The moment Daisy’s tear fell, glistening in the candlelight, he pressed harder, his thumb grinding against her clit with a perfect, shuddering pressure.

"Aaahhhhhh!!" Isabella’s scream tore through the chamber, her body convulsing as she came, her pussy spasming around his fingers, soaking them with her release. Her strokes on his cock faltered, her hand trembling as pleasure ripped through her, but she didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. "Oh, you beautiful beast," she gasped, her voice hoarse with ecstasy, "you don’t even know what you do to me... how you make me ache. I could ride your fingers all night, let you wreck me again and again."

She leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear as her hand resumed its work, stroking him with a renewed, sensual fervor. "Feel how wet I am for you," she murmured, her breath hot against his skin. "Feel how much I want this—want you. Every twitch of your cock in my hand... it’s like you’re begging me to push you further. Should I, Aiden? Should I make you spill for me, right here, while she watches?"

Her fingers danced along his length, tracing the thick vein beneath, teasing the sensitive ridge just below his tip. His hips jerked slightly, a silent plea, and she chuckled low in her throat. "Oh, you like that, don’t you? My warrior, my viscount... reduced to this—quivering under my touch. I could keep you here forever, on the edge, aching for me."

Inside her, his fingers slowed but didn’t stop, circling her swollen walls with a tender intensity that kept her trembling. Her clit throbbed under his thumb, each press sending aftershocks through her core. "Gods, Aiden," she breathed, her voice a sultry tremor, "you’re a weapon... carving me open with every twist. Do you feel how I pulse for you? How I drip for you? No one’s ever made me this weak... this wild."

Her strokes matched his rhythm now, a mirrored dance of hands and heat—her fingers slick with his precum, his soaked with her arousal. The air grew heavy with their mingled scents, the wet sounds of their touching filling the silence. Daisy’s presence faded to a distant shadow as Isabella lost herself in the sensation, her words a stream of raw desire.

"I want to feel you throb harder," she cooed, her grip tightening just enough to make him shudder. "I want to hear your breath catch, feel your body surrender... all without a word. You don’t need to speak, Aiden—just let me have you. Let me drown in this... in us."

Her head tipped back, green hair spilling like a river, as another wave of pleasure built inside her. His fingers pressed deeper, relentless, and she moaned again, softer this time, a sound of pure surrender. "Yes... yes, like that," she whispered, her hand never ceasing its slow, sensual assault on his cock. "Keep going... make me yours while I make you mine."

The candle flickered, its flame a fragile pulse in the darkness, as their hands moved in unison—a symphony of touch, unspoken and unbroken.

He felt it.

He always did.

And so did she.

Their eyes moved in unison—subtle, sidelong. At the edge of the doorway stood Daisy, frozen, mouth slightly agape, the rolled papers slipping from her trembling hands.

A slow smile curved Isabella’s lips—not one of kindness, but cruelty wrapped in silk.

Her voice was a low hum, brushing his ear like poison on a feather. "She’s still watching," she breathed, the thrill of exposure quickening her pulse. "Let her."

Atlas’s jaw tightened. He should have pulled away, should have stopped this game, but some part of him—some dark and buried instinct—held still. Not out of desire, but strategy. Observation.

"She doesn’t belong here....," she murmured.

Aiden exhaled a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering shut. "Neither do I," he whispered back, her breath quivering against his collarbone.

Daisy’s face was pale. Her yellow eyes shimmered with disbelief, hurt slicing through her expression like a blade. And when her gaze locked with Isabella’s, the queen smiled wider—victorious and vengeful, eyes glowing like a cat who’d cornered a bird and made it watch its own undoing.

A single tear slipped down Daisy’s cheek.

And at that exact moment—almost as if Isabella’s pleasure fed on the heartbreak—her whole body shuddered, her legs going weak.

She clung to Atlas’s shoulder, chest rising sharply, her breath broken, her mouth falling open in a stifled cry that vibrated against his skin.

She never took her eyes off Daisy.

And Daisy? Daisy turned and fled—silks rustling, papers forgotten, shame trailing behind her like smoke.

Atlas’s face was unreadable. But inside, a flicker of disgust curled in his gut.

Not at Daisy.

At her.

At the woman trembling in his arms and still smiling like a goddess seated on the ruins of someone else’s faith.

"You planned that," he said.

Her lashes lifted lazily. "Did I?"

Silence fell again, thick as velvet. Then Isabella leaned close, her voice a whisper of fire against his ear.

"Break a girl’s hope... and she never questions your throne again."

Atlas pulled back slightly, his eyes cold now. Calculating.

"You play dangerous games," he said.

Her gaze held his, unfazed. "You should see how I end them."

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