Transmigrated into a reversed world
Chapter 223 - 223: Her brain will go off

She peeled off his clothes slowly, her cold fingers trailing against his skin, making him shiver. He sank deeper into the couch.

Cyra noticed, and her grey eyes darkened at the sight of his parted lips.

She caressed the lines of his abs, moving upward, her eyes locked on his as she brushed his lips.

His warm breath grazed her finger, lips slightly parted, eyes glossy with desire, a red hue blooming on his caramel skin.

She pressed two fingers into his lips, and his tongue curled around them instinctively.

Cyra's breath grew shallow as she thrust her fingers slowly into his mouth, watching the way his lips closed around them.

Zane let out muffled groans, a thread of clear liquid slipping down his chin as he struggled to stop her slow, deliberate movements.

Cyra withdrew her glistening fingers, now warm from his lips. Without giving him a moment to catch his breath, she pinched his nipples hard.

A throaty moan escaped Zane's lips; his core tightened as she rolled his other nipple against her tongue, sucking slowly—until her fang slipped out and pierced the sensitive tip.

"Wife…" His voice broke off in a groan.

"Hmm?" Cyra drawled, releasing his nipple. She licked the blood from the corner of her lips.

She felt his hardness press against her thighs, and his fingers fumbling at her buttons. She chuckled, grabbing his hands and raising them over his head.

"No rush… we have all night." Her sultry voice made his breath catch, his arousal twitching painfully.

She slid her fingers between his, holding him captive as she leaned in, pressing adoring kisses along his collarbone and slowly down his chest.

Zane's lips parted in a soft moan, his body trembling as sparks raced down his spine with every stroke of her tongue.

He tried to move, but her grip held him firm—leaving him completely at her mercy, lost in the rhythm of her sweet torture.

She moved lower, biting softly into his narrow waist. His shorts blocked her path, so she sliced them into strips with a swipe of her claws. The sound of tearing cloth echoed in the room, jolting Zane back to reality.

"Wife… let's go to my room," Zane murmured, a hint of urgency in his voice. The thought of Viktor walking in made his stomach twist—he'd never hear the end of it.

A warm flush crept up his cheeks at the imagined questions he'd be far too shy to answer.

Cyra paused, noticing his flustered face. She knew how shy he was with public affection, and the blush on his cheeks made her want to tease him more.

His eyes widened, and he sank deeper into the couch as she placed a kiss on his shaft. He tensed, his body conflicted between the fear of getting caught and the thrill of her touch.

"Please…" he whispered, but it ended in a strangled grunt as her mouth enveloped him fully.

Zane's head dropped back, veins straining in his neck as he fought back moans that threatened to spill out.

Cyra heard footsteps approaching and smirked, glancing up at him. Panic danced in his eyes, silently begging her to stop.

Cyra ignored his plea and dipped her head, taking him deeper into her mouth, her eyes locked on his as anxiety and pleasure warred across his flushed face.

Zane had never experienced anything so thrilling—her warm mouth sent waves of pleasure crashing through him, even as Viktor's nearing footsteps pounded in his ears, flooding him with the anxious thrill of being caught.

His mind stretched thin between ecstasy and panic—but just as it became too much, Cyra took pity on him and vanished in a blur, slipping past Viktor before he could see a thing.

Viktor paused, a strange breeze brushing past him—impossible in this sealed space. His eyes dropped to the fallen sword, scattered clothes, and shredded fabric. Realization flickered instantly in his gaze.

A glimmer of envy passed through Viktor's eyes—just for a moment, he wished he could trade places with Zane.

"Sigh… oh well, I'll just have to wait," he muttered, trying to console himself with the promise Cyra had made, though part of him wished she'd hurry things along.

Back in the room, Zane hit Cyra lightly on the shoulder, still flustered. She burst into laughter.

"I wasn't going to let him see you… go on, hit me as much as you like," she teased, pulling off her top.

Her firm breasts spilled free, swaying gently as she pulled her top over her head. With a small tug, her shorts came undone. She stepped out of them and made her way back to the bed, red hair cascading down her pale back like silk.

"Let's pick up where we paused," she purred, her lips curling with slow satisfaction as she watched his awe-struck expression.

Zane swallowed hard as she climbed onto him, her weight sinking on his thighs. He cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples gently.

Cyra moaned softly, arching into his hands as he grew rougher, reshaping her with his palms. Leaning forward, he latched onto her nipple, sucking as if trying to draw something out.

Cyra tangled her fingers in his white curls, pressing his face closer to her chest.

He didn't neglect the other, teasing it between thumb and forefinger, pinching and rolling until she trembled.

Cyra's core clenched at his touch, warmth pooling between her thighs as her arousal surged higher.

Minutes passed. Zane came up for air, her glistening nipple catching the light. Cyra, unable to wait, lifted her hips and guided him to her entrance.

With one smooth motion, she sank down, their bodies joining completely. They moaned together.

Cyra curled her arms around his shoulders and began to move, slow and deliberate—savouring the way his shaft dragged along her walls, her body clenching around him with each grind.

Zane groaned, struggling to hold back as her walls gripped him tightly, threatening to push him over the edge too soon.

Cyra suddenly quickened her pace, their bodies slapping together in a heated rhythm as moans filled the room, mingling with the soft creak of the bed beneath them.

As the tension rose and breathless sounds echoed behind closed doors, far away on the island, Kyle stood silently, his eyes fixed on the woman chained to the wall.

"Were you able to get anything from her head?" he asked Nicole, who stood beside her.

Nicole's brow furrowed in frustration. "No. If I push any harder, her mind will register it as betrayal—the bomb implanted in her brain will go off." Her words made Kyle frown.

"So we wait for the boss to get back, then," Kyle muttered, his eyes fixed on the unconscious woman.

Nicole gave a quiet hum in response, the taste of helplessness bitter on her tongue.