My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 103 - Emotional Overwhelm

Chapter 103: Chapter 103 - Emotional Overwhelm

He leaned in, speaking low, voice like warm honey, "You remember, don’t you? The way your hands ran down these muscles. The way you trembled when I slid my palm between your thighs. You begged me to stop... but your body never did."

Her lips parted in horror—but also shame.

She couldn’t lie.

Her hands had gripped those abs, nails clawing into his skin as he’d slammed her down, thrust after ruthless thrust. His body had felt like fire on hers, like he was melting her apart from the inside.

"I didn’t—" she tried, breath hitching.

"You did," he cut her off smoothly. "You climbed on top of me first. You kissed me first. You cried when I didn’t go slow, but you never told me to stop."

Tears pricked her eyes.

He was right.

She had kissed him. She had kissed him and begged him not to stop. Even when her body shook. Even when it hurt. Because it also felt...

"Don’t cry," he said softly.

And then, without warning—

He reached forward.

Yanked her wrist.

She gasped—stumbled—and landed right against his bare chest, his hand now around her waist.

His body was hot. Too hot.

Her hands pushed against him, but weakly.

She looked up, panicked. "Cruxius—"

He smirked again, gaze unwavering.

"I said... don’t cry, woman."

And before she could react—

He sealed her lips with his.

"Hicc—!?"

Her gasp got swallowed.

He didn’t just kiss her—he devoured her.

A wet, hungry slurp echoed in the sterile hospital room as his tongue slid into her mouth, deep and possessive. Her glasses fogged instantly, slipping down the bridge of her nose.

Her eyes flew wide—shocked, stunned—as he tasted her like a starving man.

"Mm—ah...!" Her voice broke against his lips, soft and breathy, a helpless little moan escaping before she could stop it.

Cruxius felt it. He groaned into her mouth, the sound deep and hungry, pulling her closer, tighter, until there wasn’t an inch of space left between them.

One hand groped her breast through the thin blouse, fingers squeezing until her nipple stiffened beneath the fabric. His palm rolled over it again and again, greedy and slow.

The other hand slid down, gripping her ass—yanking her skirt tighter as he ground her hips against the sheet-covered bulge beneath him.

Her thighs trembled.

Her mouth was a mess—his tongue swirling, dominating, tasting. Each pass of it made her knees go weaker.

Her legs buckled again, and she moaned louder into the kiss. "Mmm—ah—C-Cruxius—!"

The slurping grew louder.

Messier.

She couldn’t even breathe. His lips moved hungrily, tongue dragging over hers, exploring every inch of her mouth like he owned it.

She wasn’t even kissing back—he was using her lips, her tongue, her moans, like she was just something to feast on.

And god—her body was reacting to it.

She was on the sensitive side, maybe because she had never had any thoughts about men.

She felt dizzy.

Her chest heaved.

Each groping squeeze of her breast made her whimper, her back arching involuntarily. And when he shifted slightly, letting his thigh press between her legs—

She almost cried out.

Heat flashed between her thighs like lightning.

Her hands pushed against his chest—but there was no strength in them. None at all.

He broke the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting their tongues before it snapped with a wet little pop. Her lips were parted, swollen and glistening. Her face—red. Her eyes—glassy.

He looked down at her, grinning like the devil.

"You moaned just like that last time too," he said, voice dark and teasing, chest still rising. "Sloppy little sounds—just like that—when you were bouncing on my cock."

She shook her head—slowly—tears forming again.

"N-No... I didn’t... I—"

He leaned in, licking her bottom lip slow. "Liar."

Then he bit it.

Gently.

And grinned.

"L-Leave me..." she whimpered.

Her voice cracked—quiet, breathless—but it came from somewhere deep.

Her hands trembled against his bare chest, pushing at him feebly. "P-Please... just stop..."

But her body was already shaking.

He didn’t say a word.

Not yet.

She stumbled back—half-falling, half-turning away, as her wrist dragged across her cheeks, trying to hide the tears already slipping down.

Her chest rose and fell, blouse sticking to her skin now damp with heat and shame.

"Why..." her voice broke again. "Why did I fall for a man like you?"

Her glasses slid to the tip of her nose, barely clinging on as her vision blurred behind them. She sniffled, swiping away more tears, but they kept coming.

The cold click of her heels echoed weakly in the room as she tried to retreat—but her legs wouldn’t move.

They didn’t want to.

And then—

A rustle.

She heard him stand.

Slowly.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t speak. Just reached for his shirt, sliding it on like it meant nothing.

As if her tears were part of the background noise.

As if her crying only made her look more his.

She barely noticed when he stepped behind her. Not until she felt his arm curl around her waist and pull—not hard, not forceful, just inevitable.

She landed right on his lap.

"Ahh—!?"

A gasp slipped from her lips, but his hand was already moving—past her coat, past the hem of her blouse, up beneath the lacy edge of her bra where her skin was warm and bare and trembling.

She froze, breath caught, as his palm finally cupped her breast—flesh to flesh, fingers spreading like he’d done it a hundred times before, like her body belonged to him.

And the worst part? The shameful truth? Her body didn’t fight it.

Not really.

Her nipple stiffened the moment his thumb brushed across it, a heat blooming in her chest, twisting lower, making her thighs tense.

"C-Cruxius..." she whispered, voice cracked, but he didn’t even blink.

Just pulled her harder into him, back against his chest, until she felt every hard inch of him pressed to her spine.

Given the soft skin and slight fat on her back against the firm, chiseled chest, her back instantly molded to him.

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