Ch. 76 – Can’t Forget the Plan

The autonomous luxury vehicle glided smoothly away from the curb, its tires leaving the pavement with a silent, frictionless whisper before it seamlessly angled upward into the clear blue sky. Within seconds, it was banking high above the residential rooftops, drifting directly into the plush white haze of the afternoon clouds.

Inside the cabin, Rhys kept his facial expression locked in stone—a mask of absolute coldness, even though the observant, analytical side of his mind couldn't help but wonder about the underlying mechanics. The ride was unnervingly quiet; there was no roar of turbine engines, no mechanical hum, leaving him to wonder if the vehicle even operated on conventional thrusters or pure, unadulterated Djinn anti-gravitational magic.

Focus, Rhys, the gentle, long-dormant voice of the "angel" on his shoulder chimed in, the old stranger finally pitching into the internal chorus.

He didn't have time to dissect magical engineering. Shula was already moving in fast.

The luxury leather seats beneath them seemed to shift and contour fluidly in response to her intent, reshaping their leather bolsters to grant her complete, unobstructed access to his body.

That’s pretty clean, I can’t lie, Rhys thought, a passing flash of tactical appreciation crossing his mind before he forcefully shut it down.

Then Shula was entirely upon him.

She swarmed him with frantic, feverish intensity, licking him profusely across his jaw, throat, and collarbone while her warm hands roamed over his torso. She reached down, taking his right hand and forcefully sliding it down between her thighs to feel her dripping, superheated wetness. Leaning into his cheek, her voice dropped into a breathless, intoxicating purr, whispering sweet nothings about how intoxicating last night had been, how her blood had been singing ever since, and how she had grown so intensely excited that she simply couldn't wait for their scheduled time.

Listening to her essentially gloat about the depraved, bound-crossing acts she had orchestrated right in front of his wife made Rhys’s stomach twist with uncomfortable revulsion. Every moral fiber urged him to shove her away, but he forced his muscles to stay still. He had to hold on. He had to wait for the exact right tactical moment to put his plan into motion.

In her frantic state, as she guided Rhys’s hand over her heated skin, Shula abruptly noticed his total lack of active participation. She paused, tilting her head back to look up at him with a look of feigned, mock disappointment. Pouting her plush lips, she asked him what was wrong—yet her hands never stopped moving his fingers against her. In fact, his stone-cold restraint seemed to make her even more visibly excited.

Rhys looked down at her with steady, unbothered eyes and calmly reminded her of the exact boundaries Lira had laid down, pointing out that he had no intention of granting her any personal satisfaction or active participation today.

Shula merely smiled a slow, knowing smile. She leaned in close, her bronze lips brushing the shell of his ear as her hot breath seared his skin. "That’s quite alright, my sweet donor," she purred wicked, "I will simply enjoy all the pleasure for both of us."

She reached out, grabbing Rhys’s left hand and placing it firmly over her left breast. Through the thin fabric, Rhys could feel her heart hammering at a frantic, chaotic pace. Shula accelerated her movement, her mouth sliding down to lick long, hot paths across his neck and chest. With a sudden, forceful shudder, her head jolted back, her entire body spasming as her internal Ifrit heat peaked, her wetness overflowing against his hand.

Rhys steeled his core, doing everything in his power to remain a stone wall and yield nothing to her momentum. But deep within the dark vault of his chest, he felt a dangerous, familiar surge rising—a dark, primal heat answering her call.

Shula took a brief moment to catch her breath, her hips still swaying in a slow, residual rhythm over his lap. Then, with deliberate, sensual grace, she slid down off the bench, positioning herself low between Rhys’s knees. The magical seats shifted again, lowering their central cushions to give her room.

Rhys instantly knew what was coming. He frowned, raising his hands in immediate protest. "Shula, stop. There’s no point in giving me oral if the sole objective here is biological conception."

Shula looked up at him from between his legs, a sharp, smirking glint in her golden eyes. "It’s to properly prepare you for the act, Rhys," she purred, her tone shifting into a tone of mocking innocence. "Unless... are you telling me you're already that excited to get straight to it with me?"

A violent pulse of kinetic energy spiked through Rhys’s chest, making his heart stagger against his ribs.

“You know you wanted it,” the dark voice in his mind rasped, stepping closer from the shadows.

Rhys tried desperately to convince himself that he didn't, but any further protest was swallowed whole as Shula took him entirely into her mouth.

She started deliberately slow, setting a deep, agonizingly rhythmic pace before taking him all the way in. She kept her golden eyes locked onto his face, radiating a intense, unyielding devotion. Unable to stomach the sheer intimacy of her gaze, Rhys turned his head away, staring out the tinted side window of the flying vehicle.

Shula rolled her eyes at his defiance, instantly speeding up her pace.

As she continued, Shula raised her right hand, her head bobbing without missing a single beat. With a sharp SNAP of her fingers, her Djinn magic surged through the vehicle's interior.

The heavy tint on the glass instantly vanished. In fact, the entire outer shell of the luxury car transformed, becoming completely transparent from the inside like advanced one-way glass.

Suddenly, Rhys was floating in mid-air.

The sprawling, magnificent skyline of the city unfolded beneath them in every direction as they drifted silently among the sunlit clouds. The view was breathtaking, terrifying, and utterly spectacular. Combined with the unbearable sensory overload of Shula’s frantic, side-to-side cadence below, the sensation was entirely otherworldly.

Shula glanced up, noticing the precise second his eyes widened. Her little trick had worked flawlessly, and Rhys couldn't even pretend otherwise; the raw, thrilling exposure of looking out over the entire world while suspended in the clouds sent a thrilling shudder straight down his spine.

“Can’t forget the plan...” the voice in his head teased, its tone growing closer, lighter, mocking his collapsing resolve.

Just... wow, was the only thought Rhys’s stunned brain could muster.

He looked down at Shula, and what he saw took his breath away. Her Ifrit powers were flaring in full force—sparks of brilliant, golden-red magic were dancing across her bronze skin, making her look undeniably radiant. Rhys stared in pure astonishment as she accelerated her rhythm to a furious pace, feeding on his visual admiration.

Shula put her magic into active motion. The floating sparks condensed around Rhys’s loins, wrapping his system in an intense, magical warmth as Shula reached a fever pitch, her hand moving in rapid, expert synchronization below.

The release hit them both with brutal, absolute force.

Rhys finished hard, his hands digging into the leather armrests as a massive charge surged out of him. Shula took every drop greedily, her throat working in rhythmic perfection. Yet, due to the lingering Djinn magic weaving through his system, Rhys’s body was forced to keep going—the magical reaction compelling his depleted system to sustain the release far beyond his natural limits.

Rhys stared down in utter, horrifying disbelief, his hands scrambling to pull his hips back. "Shula—wait—stop—"

Ignoring his desperate plea, Shula surged upward, sliding her body flush against his chest and pinning him down with her absolute weight. Her golden eyes flashed with a stern, intensely possessive glare that locked into his, silently declaring her absolute, unyielding truth: You are mine, and every single drop belongs to me.

Rhys felt completely, utterly drained. Whatever tiny, carefully guarded reservoir of kinetic energy he had managed to build up earlier was ruthlessly sucked away, drawn straight into her magical vortex. He slumped heavily back against the headrest, his vision swimming, his limbs completely paralyzed by absolute physical exhaustion as Shula greedily absorbed the remainder of her magical bounty.

His head tilted back limply against the leather. Rhys blinked slowly through the transparent, crystal-clear roof of the flying car, gazing out into the vast, endless blue sky above.

Through the thick, heavy haze of his absolute physical burnout, he watched a solitary white cloud drifting peacefully past.

Huh, Rhys thought numbly, his consciousness floating somewhere miles away from his broken body. I swear... that’s a really nice-looking bird up there.