Hello you might be wondering why i change the chapter of 34, well its because i complitly forgot that this MC is not really innocent, and i don't like how the original turn out, so yeah.
I hope you like the new version, and i hope you enjoy reading it
Also, warning 18+
Okay bye :)
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After teleporting straight into the bedroom, Henry immediately headed for the shower and then sank into the bathtub with a long, contented sigh.
While the hot water soothed his muscles, he activated his skill and idly observed what the Floor Guardians were up to in the throne room.
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After about twenty minutes, Henry finally climbed out of the tub, dried himself off, and slipped into nothing but the pants of his pajamas. With nothing better to do, he decided to read a few books that are in his room.
A few minutes later, the door swing opened without any warning, startling him a bit. And Demiurge the one who open the doors, looked equally startled, with his face flushed red, clearly unsure what to say. Without a word, he continued walking straight toward the bathroom.
Well... Fuck
Looks like Demiurge really is angry with me. Well, I can't blame him. Anyone would be annoyed by that.
Huff…
I'll give him whatever he wants later as an apology. Henry thought with a small smile, already wondering what his sulky husband would ask for. Either way, he was going to spoil his husband rotten tonight.
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(Meanwhile)
Akh!!! Why did I do that?!!!
Not only had he forgotten to knock, but he had also walked straight into the bathroom without even greeting or apologizing to his husband first for his rude enter.
But…
how could you blame me?
For ten years, he had been sleeping alone in their bedchamber. If he were being honest with himself, he still wasn't used to his husband presence.
He had always assumed his husband hated him because of their forced marriage, and that was why his husband rarely stayed in their shared chamber. Sometimes his husband would return to their chamber, but he would soon disappear again—with what the other Supreme Beings had called a 'logout'.
Even though yesterday's events had shattered that assumption—proving that his husband might not actually hate him, but it couldn't be denied that his husband still seemed unwilling to be touched by him. After all, yesterday Henry hadn't allowing to serve him.
Still, seeing his husband there, half-naked, displaying his toned muscles and with an old battle scars, had left him completely speechless, the sight of his husband in their bedchambers still made his heart race.
He wasn't accustomed to it at all. He had panicked and fled into the bathroom without thinking, desperate to hide his body's shameful reaction.
Memories ambushed him without mercy — the two of them in this very bathroom, steam rising around them, wet skin brushing together. The recollection hit harder than expected.
Demiurge hated how his body refused to listen to reason. While his mind tried to think clearly, the heat below only grew stronger. With no other choice, he twisted the shower knob to its coldest setting.
Ice-cold water hammered down on his shoulders, chest, and thighs—necessary punishment to quell the rising heat.
Thirty-two minutes later—he finally emerged.
With damp hair and feeling cold from the long shower, but his mind was clear and his body had finally calmed down.
------
After he dried of, he finally stepped out, with a towel wrapped securely around his waist.
Seing Henry that was seated on the edge our bed—calmly turning the pages of a book he recognized, and read as though the outside world didn't exist.
The sight alone made Demiurge's steps falter for a fraction of a second.
He moved quickly to the wardrobe, selected simple silk sleepwear, and get dressed—anything to get his eyes distracted from looking on his husband chest.
But as he finally finished buttoning the last button, Henry approached him without making a sound, and before he could react, warm fingers closed around his cold left hand.
Henry lifted it slowly, reverently, and pressed his lips to the knuckles. The voice was asked quietly, "still angry with me?" Why is his hand so cold?
Demiurge's throat suddenly went dry. He wanted to ask what he meant by 'angry,' but before he could form the words, Henry turned his hand upward and placed another kiss right over the cold sensitive hollow of his palm, feeling his warmth breath.
"Anything you want—name it, and I'll grant it. Even if it's something blasphemous, I won't get mad. Anything at all… Just please, stop avoiding me."
The words pierced deeper than any blade. Heat flooded his face. He stayed silent for so long that Henry's brows began to pinch with worry.
"Anything?" Demiurge finally echoed, his voice softer than he had intended.
"Anything at all." Hi's gaze never wavered. "No limits."
....
There is...
A wish—ancient, selfish, almost blasphemous—clawed its way up from the deepest of his mind.
From the very first moment he had laid eyes on him, on the day he walked through the door on their wedding day, he had wanted it. He had craved it in silence.
It felt almost profane to voice it now, here, in this intimate space they shared as spouses.
He swallowed.
"…Can we…" He could feel the heat rising to his face. "C-can we… do it?" ah, why did I say it like that?! There's no way my husband will knows what I'm trying to say if I phrase it like that!
Henry was stunned for a moment, then let out a soft, warm chuckle. Honestly, it was a relief that Demiurge was the one who brought it up first—he had been feeling awkward about how to mention it himself. Still, he needed to make sure that this is truly what Demiurge wanted, and not something driven by duty or obligation.
He gently brushed the strands of hair away from Demiurge's eyes, then slid one arm around his waist, pulling him a little closer. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles on his lower back, that make demiurge body flush red with warm.
"Do you really want this?" Henry asked, his voice low and serious, eyes searching Demiurge's face. "I need you to be sure. Not because I'm your husband, not because of duty… but because you truly want me."
Demiurge's heart hammered wildly in his chest. He nodded, cheeks burning.
"Hm," he hummed softly, then added more clearly, voice barely above a whisper, "Yes… I want you."
Henry's gaze softened with relief. He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Demiurge's forehead, then another to the corner of his lips.
"But before we do that," Henry continued gently, "can you promise me something? If you ever feel like stopping—if it hurts, feels weird, or you're simply not in the mood, even a little—you'll tell me 'stop' or 'no'? I promise I won't be angry, sad, or disappointed. In fact, I'll feel closer to you because you trusted me enough to be honest."
Demiurge's eyes still carried that lingering sense of duty, as if it were his responsibility to please his husband no matter what. Henry noticed it immediately and continued before Demiurge could speak.
"I want you to know that the only thing that would truly disappoint me is if you ignored your own feelings and pushed yourself for my sake. Your comfort and happiness matter more to me than anything else."
Demiurge became quite for a few minute, then nodded with his eyes cased down. "Hm… I promise."
Henry rewarded him with a tender kiss at the corner of his eye.
"Also, let's agree on safe words. 'Red' if you want to stop completely, 'yellow' if you want to slow down or pause, and 'green' to continue. Even if you're worried about disappointing me, using the safe word is exactly what I want you to do. It shows that you trust me. Can you promise me that if you ever need to stop—even just a little—you'll say 'Red' or tell me to stop?"
Demiurge looked up at him, cheeks still flushed. For a moment he stayed quiet, processing Henry's words. The sincerity and care in his husband's voice made something tight in his chest slowly loosen.
He nodded slowly, then whispered, "I promise… If I feel uncomfortable or want to stop, I'll say 'Red'. Or… I'll tell you to stop."
His voice was steady, but his ears burned with embarrassment at having to say it out loud—Still, he kept his gaze fixed on Henry's.
Henry also added gently, "I promise to be honest with you too. I won't push myself on you if you say stop." Consent is really important, but i complitly not stopping when he say stop yesterday, so i need to promise him to that i will stop when he say stop to.
Demiurge swallowed, then continued in a shy voice, "So… can we continue now?"
Henry chuckled softly at his words. In one smooth motion, he slipped his hands under him and lifted him effortlessly. Demiurge let out a surprised yelp at the sudden lift, quickly wrapping his arms around my neck for balance—as the demon legs instinctively wrapped around my waist, cradling to my body firmly.
Henry grinned and began showering his husband flushed face with countless kisses, and continue walking towards bed.
----
When they finally reached the bed, Henry lowered Demiurge gently onto the center of the mattress with utmost care.
Demiurge's face was burning red. Henry gave him one last tender kiss before pulling back slightly and asking in a low, husky voice, "Can I take of your clothes?"
Demiurge's blush deepened all the way down to his chest, and gave a shy nod.
Henry slowly slid his hands to Demiurge's waist, silently signaling that he could stop him if he want to. When Demiurge made no move to stop him, so he carefully lifted the shirt up and over his head, that revealing smooth skin.
He captured his lips in a deep kiss, slipping his tongue inside, that making Demiurge moaned sweetly in response.
While his hand continue to moved, gently guiding him to lie down while his other hand continued exploring his body. He hand soon found Demiurge's chest, teasing and rolling the nips until it hardened between his fingers, drawing another muffled moan into their kiss.
When He finally pulled back, a thin string of saliva still connected their tongues. The sight of Demiurge's dazed expression nearly broke his self-control. It took everything in him not to ravage his husband right then and there.
But he held himself back. This is our first time, don't act like beast in heat, he reminded himself. He then carefully lifted Demiurge's hips with both hands, making Demiurge let out a soft, surprised gasp as his lower back rose from the bed.
"Easy, love," Henry murmured tenderly. "I just don't want to hurt your tail."
He reached for one of the thick, soft pillows beside them and slid it underneath Demiurge's waist and buttocks. The pillow tilted Demiurge's hips upward at a perfect angle, supporting him comfortably while keeping pressure off the sensitive base of his long tail. The new position allowed his tail to drape freely, instead of being pinned beneath him.
Demiurge bit his lip and nodded, as his tail curled into Henry left legs.
Henry then continued to worship his husband body—playing with the already hardened nipple into his mouth while playing the other with his fingers. Making Demiurge's moans grew louder.
Embarrassed, he quickly pressed a hand over his own mouth, trying to stifle the sounds, afraid they might disturb or annoy Henry.
Henry noticed it, stopped immediately and gently pulled Demiurge's hand away from his mouth.
"Don't hide your voice, love" he said softly, eyes full of desire. "I want to hear every beautiful sound you make because of me," his voice became husky "Be vocal."
Demiurge nodded shyly. Henry took his hand and guided it to his own hair.
"If it ever hurts, if it feels too much, or if you want to stop—even for a second—say stop, or pull my hair, alright?"
Demiurge opened his mouth to protest—and say that it was impolite that his hand in his hair in the first place—but Henry silenced him with another deep kiss. While their lips were still locked, Henry's hands moved lower, skillfully sliding Demiurge's pants down from his legs.
When the pants finally slipped off, he pulled back from the kiss and took in the sight before him.
Huft...
Fuck.
Demiurge looked incredibly sexy—with cheeks flushed deep red, the corners of his eyes glistening with tears, and his mouth slightly open with the tip of his tongue peeking out still short of breath. The erotic expression made heat surge through his body.
Without hesitation, Henry used a simple spell to retrieve the bottle of lotion from the small bedside drawer.
He poured in some onto his fingers and rubbed them together, warming the lotion with his own body heat.
He looked down at Demiurge, voice low and gentle, yet thick with desire. "Are you ready?"
Demiurge nodded enthusiastically, his breath shaky with anticipation.
Henry leaned down to kiss him softly once more, then slowly pressed his middle finger against his entrance, carefully pushing it inside.
Because this was their first time, Henry moved with extreme care. He kept his movements slow and gentle, giving Demiurge plenty of time to adjust. After a moment, he murmured against his lips, "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"
Demiurge let out a soft, trembling breath and nodded. "Nngh… it feels… strange, but not bad."
Henry kissed him reassuringly and continued working his finger in and out with patience. Only when Demiurge's body began to relax did he add a second finger, sliding it in alongside the first.
"Still alright?" Henry asked, voice full of concern as he searched Demiurge's face. "Tell me if it's too much."
Demiurge's back arched slightly. A needy moan slipped from his lips as he tried to adjust to the sensation. His inner walls clenched around the intrusion, then slowly loosened. His cheeks burned even hotter, but he whispered breathlessly, "It's… ah~ it's okay, keep going…"
Henry's control was hanging by a thread at the erotic sight, but he stayed patient. He scissored his fingers gently, stretching Demiurge with care while peppering soft kisses along his jaw and neck to help him relax. After a few minutes, he added a third finger, pushing in slowly. Demiurge gasped sharply, his hands move and gripping Henry's shoulders tightly.
----
After finishing preparing Demiurge, Henry quickly removed his own pants, freeing his already hardened cock. He positioned himself between Demiurge's spread legs, with his thick, hardened cock pressing insistently against the slick, twitching entrance.
Demiurge's breath hitched sharply. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady himself. Breathe. Just breathe. You wanted this. You've waited for so long.
Demiurge let out a long, a shaky, broken moan tearing from his throat—as the thick head of his cock began to push in, stretching him open with a slow, burning pressure. He tried to relax around the considerable girth, but a small sob slipped from his lips at the stretch.
"Nngh…!" Demiurge bit his lip hard, fists gripping Henry back. He forced himself to relaxing himseft. Calm down. Let him in. You can take him. You will take him. His tail twitched erratically behind him as he focused on the sensation of Henry's warm hand stroking soothing circles on his thigh.
"Shh… its ok, breathe sweatheart" he whispered soothingly, while continue stroking Demiurge's thigh, but he didn't push deeper, "You're doing so well. Just relax for me, love."
Demiurge nodded jerkily, eyes squeezed shut. Sweat already beaded on his forehead. He concentrated on the feeling of fullness, willing his body to yield. Another slow exhale. His shoulders dropped slightly. The tight ring of muscle fluttered, then softened just enough for Henry to slide in another inch.
When he was barely halfway in, Demiurge suddenly wrapped his arms tightly behind his neck—clinging to him, that made him immediately stopped moving.
"Hah… ah—y-yelow... slowly…" Demiurge whispered, voice trembling with a sulty voice, and pulling him closer for comfort. His claws pricked his husband skin, but he couldn't help it. Every tiny movement sent sparks racing up his spine. He kept his breathing—deep, measured breaths—trying to stay grounded even as his body screamed from the sheer size of the cock slowly claiming him.
"You're so tight… so perfect," Henry murmured, showering his face and neck with soft kisses, leaving a trail of several hickeys along his collarbone while whispering praises. "You're doing so well… so tight and perfect for me. Look at you, taking me so beautifully."
The praise melted something inside Demiurge. He let out a soft sob, as another inch sank in. Then another. Until when Henry was barely halfway, Demiurge's legs began to shake uncontrollably, he clung tighter—burying his face in his shoulder.
They stayed locked like that for few minutes. Demiurge shift focused entirely on his breathing, the kisses and gentle words Henry showered him with, help him to shift his focus from below.
Until gradually, the burning stretch eased into a heavy, delicious fullness. His walls pulsed around Henry's cock, slowly adjusting.
He nooded towards Henry to continue, as his body finally relaxed. With one last careful push, Henry finally buried inside him.
Demiurge's back arched sharply off the bed, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he was completely filled—with henry supporting his body, held him close, giving him time to adjust to being completely filled.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Demiurge could feel every vein, every throb of his husband cock deep inside his body. His belly felt slightly distended from the sheer size. Tears of overwhelming sensation slipped from the corners of his eyes.
Finally… Demiurge thought, his heart swelling with emotion even through the overwhelming fullness. We're finally one... We're truly connected.
After several long minutes of soft kisses and whispered praises, he finally breathed out, "I'm okay… you can move now."
So he began rocking his hips in slow, shallow thrusts. Even that gentle rhythm made Demiurge see stars—His cock dragged perfectly over his prostate with every stroke. Demiurge's moans grew louder, and more desperate, mixing with soft sobs as pleasure flooded his senses.
"Hen—ahh! There—!" His voice cracked. He tried to keep control, but his body betrayed him, hips jerking up to meet each thrust. "Faster—no, slower—ahhn~! Just… don't stop, please~" with tears of overwhelming pleasure slipping from his eyes.
Henry settled into a steady rhythm, while Demiurge's mind grew hazy. Every thrust pushed him closer to the edge. His cock leaked steadily onto his abdomen, untouched. His tail coiled tightly around Henry's legs, pulling him impossibly deeper.
A silent, open-mouthed cry escaped him first—then a raw, broken moan tore from his throat as thick ropes of cum spurted across his own chest and stomach in powerful pulses. His entire body snapped taut like a bowstring, his back arched beautifuly off the bed, every muscle locked and trembling.
His toes curled hard, claws digging into Henry's back as his inner walls clamped down violently around the thick cock inside him. A raw, broken cry tore from his throat as powerful jets of cum spurted across his chest and abdomen in thick, rhythmic pulses.
His body stayed locked in that perfect, quivering arch for several seconds, with body shaking violently with each wave of orgasm. Henry kept moving gently through it, prolonging the pleasure until Demiurge finally collapsed back onto the sheets, gasping and sobbing softly, utterly spent.
His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, eyes glassy with lingering ecstasy. A small, blissful smile tugged at his lips despite the tears still sliding down his eyes.
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PS: I might continue this chapter later. As you can see, only Demiurge has cum so far(get it?). So if this message gets deleted, it means I'm done continuing their sexy scenes.
Okay thats all, bye:)