Seven Sins System Chapter 601. Unholy II

Seven Sins System Chapter 601. Unholy II

She was real.

I slid my hand along her stomach—slow, reverent. The way her breath caught made my core pulse even harder. It glowed again, that molten purple crack in my chest flashing like it was syncing with her heartbeat now. My other hand slid up, tracing her ribs, the curve of her side, until my palm rested just below her breast.

She trembled. But not in fear.

“Azrael…” she whispered, voice like a prayer and a warning all in one.

“I need to see you,” I murmured back, barely able to speak. “All of you.”

Her lips parted. No protests. No anger. No divine fury smiting me where I stood.

She just nodded.

Barely.

And damn it if that didn’t break something in me.

Because she trusted me.

This wasn’t lust. Not just that. This was something deeper. Something sacred and fucked up and tangled between war, fate, and whatever this cursed cave was doing to us.

And as my hands moved, slow and deliberate, finally sliding her last piece of armor off and laying it gently on the stone beside us, I looked at her.

Not the goddess.

Not the soldier.

Just her.

And she didn’t look away.

Even with her armor gone, with divine skin exposed to the cold air and my stare, she didn’t flinch or retreat. Her gaze was steady, burning—not with judgment, not with shame—but with something I couldn’t fully name.

Need?

Curiosity?

Maybe even a little defiance. The kind that whispered, ‘so what if I want this?’

My armored skin was rough—sharp edges and shifting plates, glowing cracks between obsidian surfaces where my power leaked out like lava. I wasn’t built for this. Not in this form. I wasn’t smooth. I wasn’t soft. And my face?

Let’s not pretend it’s anything charming.

Demonic. Twisted. Horns arched back like a crown of wrath. Okay, they were literally my crown.

But her palm still came up…

And she touched me.

Touch me!

Gently. Slowly. Her fingers slid along the edge of my jaw like I wasn’t terrifying at all. Like I was just a man beneath all this.

And when her thumb brushed over the side of my face, I shuddered.

She kept going.

Her hand slid down my neck, across my shoulder. That sacred skin of hers glowed where it met mine, like her body didn’t fear the burn, didn’t care about the contrast between holy and hellfire.

And demon gods help me—I leaned into it.

Her lips followed her hand, brushing my neck, then my chest. Her kisses weren’t hesitant. They were hot. Open-mouthed. Every press of her lips left me groaning under my breath, like she was teasing parts of me I didn’t even know were wired to react.

My tentacles responded too—trailing across her back, her thighs, her arms. Just slow, sinuous movement, tasting her through sensation. Mapping the dips and curves of her body as if they were sacred runes I had to memorize.

I didn’t know what felt more dangerous—her hands, her lips, or the fact that I let her in.

Then she pushed me.

Not rough.

Just… firm. Decided.

I fell onto my back. My core pulsed brighter—more erratic. My body, usually ready for war, didn’t know what the hell to do with surrender. But I let it happen. I let her.

She crawled over me, like she was taking control in a way I’d never imagined she could.

Then her hand slid down my leg.

Across my thigh.

To ‘there’.

Yeah.

That.

I wasn’t going to pretend it wasn’t happening.

Because it was.

She touched me—my erection, hard and heavy, awkwardly pressing against my form like even my body didn’t fully understand what it was doing. It didn’t look human, not with those dark veins glowing faintly like my core’s magic bled into every part of me. Still shaped like it should be… but more. Different.

And seeing her hand wrap around it?

Yeah.

That was a moment.

I sucked in a breath through my teeth, groaning—loud. Deep. No filter.

Because holy hell, that felt good.

Her hand stroked me slowly, from the base to the tip, like she was testing how far I’d let this go. How far she would go. And the answer? Apparently all the way.

My hips flexed up without thinking. My tentacles writhed behind me, curling tighter to the stone. I was losing it. Bit by bit. Groan after groan. That tension I always carried—rage, power, instinct to dominate—it unraveled under her palm like it didn’t stand a chance.

And then she went further.

She leaned down.

Kissed my stomach.

Then lower.

And her tongue—hot and divine and dangerously curious—traced my abs slowly, upward, toward my chest.

Toward my core.

My demonic core.

It glowed brighter the closer she got. Dark purple veins lit up through my armor like cracks in volcanic glass. It pulsed fast, faster, almost vibrating now.

And I knew…

One wrong move, and she could kill me.

That core? It wasn’t just a power source. It was me. If it shattered… there’s no respawn. No revival. Just ash.

But I didn’t stop her.

Because the way she looked at it—looked at me—wasn’t with malice. It wasn’t even lust alone. There was something else. Wonder, maybe. Maybe even awe.

Her lips hovered over it.

And I swore I stopped breathing.

One soft breath against the glowing surface, and my whole body arched—an involuntary surge of sensation shooting down my spine and right back up again.

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

I was a goddamn demon lord. Tiered. War-hardened. Infamous.

But her touch made me tremble.

“…You know what this is,” I managed to rasp, voice hoarse.

She nodded slowly, eyes locked on the pulse of magic beneath her lips. “Yes.”

“And you’re still touching it.”

“Yes,” she said again, softer this time. “Because I love you.”

I shut my eyes for a second, overwhelmed.

That sentence?

It did more damage than a divine sword ever could.

She trusted me.

Even with my claws wrapped around her back. Even with my core pulsing inches from her lips. Even with my instincts barely held together by a thread.

She trusted me.

And then—I felt something.