My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 101 - Seleyena’s Exploration

Chapter 101: Chapter 101 - Seleyena’s Exploration

Dr. Seleyena’s Apartment

The bathroom was a cocoon of steam, thick and heavy, curling like a lover’s breath against the tiles. The air carried the musky weight of jasmine soap, clinging to the walls, mingling with the faint tang of salt and skin.

Seleyena stood bare before the fogged mirror, her silhouette a ghostly curve in the mist—flushed, trembling, her body a canvas of secrets etched in shadow and heat.

Two nights ago, Cruxius had claimed her—her first, her only.

His hands, his mouth, had left her marked with bruises and raw bites that pulsed beneath her skin, stirring her gentle heart into a storm of wonder, shame, and a hungry ache she couldn’t name.

Once a woman of quiet dignity, untouched until that night, she now faced a body that felt both hers and alien, each mark a riddle whispering questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

Her fingers, unsteady, grazed the hickey on her neck—a dark, throbbing bloom just below her jaw, warm and alive under her touch. She pressed it, and a sharp sting lanced through her, electric, pulling a shiver from her core.

’Why does it feel like... he’s still here?’ Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, the mirror’s blur softening her reflection into something fragile, unguarded.

’How could his mouth be so... ruthless.’ The memory crashed over her—his lips, fierce and unyielding, sucking with a primal need, teeth grazing her skin, drawing a moan she hadn’t known she could make.

"Why did I even let him do that?" she whispered, her voice small, trembling in the humid air, swallowed by the steam’s soft hiss.

Her fingers circled the mark, slow, curious, and a flush crept down her chest, her pulse a quickening drumbeat.

’It shouldn’t feel so... alive.’ She tilted her head, studying the stain in the fogged glass, pressing harder, chasing the sweet ache that blurred the line between pain and pleasure.

Her breath hitched, a quiet gasp lost in the mist.

Her hands drifted to her lips, swollen and tender from his relentless kisses. She traced their curve, her thumb lingering on the soft, bruised flesh, a shiver rippling through her.

’He filled my mouth so deeply... I was suffocating...’ Her eyes, dazed, welled with tears, caught in the memory of his weight—his thick, pulsing heat overwhelming her inexperience, forcing her to choke, then yield, gasping for air.

"How did I manage... to take him like that?" she murmured, cheeks burning with a shy curiosity that felt forbidden.

Her tongue brushed her lips, an unconscious flicker, and a spark of heat flared in her belly, startling her with its intensity.

Her hands slid lower, hesitant, to her breasts—full, aching, their weight unfamiliar, as if reshaped by his touch. She cupped them, frowning at their heaviness.

’Have my breasts always been this full?’ Her fingers explored, tentative, freezing as they grazed teeth marks circling her nipple, the tip hardening under her touch.

’He bit me here?’ She rubbed the mark, a soft sigh escaping, the pain melting into a warmth that made her thighs clench involuntarily.

Lifting one breast, she glimpsed a bruise beneath—faint, shaded, shaped by his fingers’ grip.

’He held me so tightly.’ The pain bloomed under her touch, vivid, pulling her back to his hands pinning her down, claiming her with a force that left her breathless.

"My God," she whispered, barely audible, her thumb pressing the bruise, sparking a wave of pleasure she couldn’t name, didn’t want to.

She turned, hands gliding to her hips, tracing the curve where his palms had been—rough, possessive, leaving marks that still burned.

Her fingers found a tender bite mark on her ass, and she inhaled sharply, a jolt of sensation rippling through her.

’He bit this place too?’ She pressed into the pain, her body humming with the memory of his hands pounding against her, his hot growls vibrating in her ear.

’Why does this make me... tremble?’ Her voice was a whisper, thick with confusion, and she closed her eyes, letting the sensation flood her senses.

"What is happening to me?" she murmured, fingers lingering, pressing harder until a soft moan slipped free, her body betraying her with a rush of heat that felt both foreign and alive.

Her hands traced the thin, red lines on her hips where his nails had dug in, anchoring her as he moved. She followed them, slow and deliberate, finding another bruise—small, tender, a ghost of his grip.

’He grabbed me so hard.’ The memory made her breath catch, and she pressed the mark, the pain pulsing, blending with a heat pooling between her legs.

’This shouldn’t feel this good, should it?’ Her heart raced, and she bit her lip, torn between shame and desire.

Her hands drifted to her belly, spreading across the soft, warm skin, pressing lightly as if searching for the hollow he’d left inside her. ’He was... so big.’ Her fingers paused just below her navel, her breath shaky.

’Did he really go that deep?’ She pressed harder, chasing his echo, the way he filled her until she thought she’d shatter.

Her knees weakened, a low moan escaping, her body alive with the memory. She traced slow circles around her navel, mapping his depth, whispering, "It can’t be that deep... can it?"

Her gaze fell to her pussy, swollen and raw, the sight making her heart pound like a trapped bird. Hesitant, she parted the folds with trembling fingers, hissing at the sharp sensitivity.

’So empty now.’ The memory of his thickness surged back—hot, pulsing, stretching her, taking her virginity in a fevered rush that still felt like a dream. Her fingers grazed her rosebud, and she whispered,

"Am I still... me?" The question hung heavy, her body a paradox of loss and awakening, sore yet electric.

She brushed the bud again—unclaimed, hers alone—and a soft moan slipped free, her body responding with a heat that both frightened and thrilled her.

Turning slightly, she caught a crescent-shaped bruise on her inner thigh in the mirror’s haze.

’He bit my thigh too?’ Her fingers pressed the mark, sparking the memory of his mouth—hot, relentless, his tongue teasing her sensitive skin.

’I didn’t stop him.’ A flush spread across her chest, her body alive with the echo of his hunger.

"Why do I want... more?" she whispered, her voice breaking, caught between guilt and a desire that set her skin ablaze.

She stood frozen, lost in the foggy reflection, her body a map of Cruxius’s touch—bruises, bites, scratches, each a raw testament to that night.

’He marked me, and I let him. I wanted him.’ The thought was a silent confession, heavy with shame and desire, her skin singing with the memory of her surrender, her awakening, her body no longer just hers but something shared, claimed, alive.

BZZZZZTTTT—!

The phone’s sharp ring sliced through the steam, shattering the spell. Her hands dropped, gripping the countertop, her reflection staring back—flushed, vulnerable, a gentle woman teetering on the edge of something wild and uncharted.

Heart pounding, she snatched the phone, flustered, pressing it to her ear.

"What!? " Seleyena’s eyes instantly widened as if she just heard something catastrophic on the call, sprinting out of the bathroom without taking a bath, grabbed her bathrobe, and sprinted back into the bathroom while inquiring in a sharp and panicked voice,

"What did you say!? What happened to Cruxius!"

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