100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids-Chapter 333 - 332- Elara’s Manipulation

Elara’s smile didn’t change. But her eyes—for just a moment—glinted with something dark. Something satisfied.

"Dreams can feel very real when corruption is involved," Elara said gently, reaching out to pat Olivia’s head like comforting a child. "Especially for someone as pure as you. The demonic energy probably gave you terrible visions while you slept."

"But the mark—" Olivia gestured frantically at her womb. "This mark! It’s real! I can feel it!"

"Yes," Elara nodded. "That’s the cleansing mark. Lord Viktor placed it on you to help purify the corruption. It will fade over time as your body heals."

Olivia stared at her, wanting desperately to believe it.

But her body told a different story.

The fullness in her ass. The slickness between her thighs. The seed leaking from her violated hole.

"Then why..." Olivia’s voice dropped to a broken whisper. "Why do I still feel... filled? Why does it feel like something was inside me?"

Elara’s smile widened just slightly.

"Phantom sensations," she said smoothly. "Very common with corruption nightmares. Your mind experienced something so vividly that your body believes it happened. Give it time. Rest. Eat. The feelings will fade."

Olivia wanted to believe her but felt strange hestiation until calmed herself before looking towards the door as she saw Elara exiting.

The door clicked shut behind Elara with a soft, final sound.

For a moment, she stood there motionless, her back pressed against the wooden door, her hand still on the handle. The cheerful, comforting mask she’d worn for Olivia’s benefit slowly melted away like wax under heat.

Her lips curved into a smirk—sharp, knowing, satisfied.

Then she turned.

The hallway was dimly lit, morning light filtering through a window at the far end. Simple wooden floors. Plain walls. Nothing extravagant, but clean and well-maintained.

And standing halfway down the corridor, hands casually tucked into his pockets, was Viktor.

He stood perfectly still, his posture relaxed but his presence commanding. His dark eyes stared straight ahead—not at her, but through the wall, as if seeing something far beyond. His expression was calm. Unreadable. The face of a man deep in thought.

Elara’s smirk widened as she pushed off the door and took a few steps toward him, her maid outfit swishing softly with each movement. Her hips swayed naturally, her massive breasts bouncing slightly with each step.

"Is she alright?" Viktor’s voice broke the silence before Elara could speak. Flat. Controlled. No emotion.

Elara paused, tilting her head slightly as she studied him.

"Yes," she replied, her voice returning to its normal sultry tone now that the act was over. "She’s confused. Scared. But physically fine."

Viktor’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Good."

Silence fell between them for a moment.

Then Elara chuckled—a low, amused sound that echoed softly in the empty hallway.

"I have to say, husband," she purred, taking another step closer, "I did *not* expect you to teleport us here. One moment you were balls-deep in that priestess’s tight little ass, and the next—*poof*—we’re back in the manor."

She spread her hands dramatically, mimicking an explosion.

"Didn’t you want to fuck that priestess properly? You were so close to breaking her completely."

Viktor’s eyes shifted. Slowly. Deliberately. His gaze locked onto Elara with an intensity that made the air between them feel heavy.

The temperature in the hallway seemed to drop.

Not metaphorically. *Literally*.

A cold, oppressive pressure radiated from Viktor’s body, spreading outward like frost creeping across a window. The warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window was swallowed by it, replaced by an unnatural chill that made Elara’s breath come out in a faint, visible puff.

"What did you do to me?" Viktor’s voice was low. Dangerous. Each word enunciated with razor precision. "Before?"

Elara’s smirk faltered.

Her body tensed instinctively, muscles coiling like a prey animal suddenly realizing it was being stalked by a predator far more dangerous than itself.

Viktor’s dark eyes bored into hers. There was no anger there. No rage. Just cold, absolute control wrapped around something dark and primal.

And beneath that control—power. Raw, unfathomable power that hadn’t been there before.

Elara swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. Her fingers trembled slightly at her sides.

"N-nothing," she stammered, her confident demeanor cracking. "I didn’t do anything. I just—"

"You used something there," Viktor interrupted, his voice still flat but carrying an edge now. "You used her to manipulate me. To push me past hesitation. To make me violate an unconscious woman."

He took one step forward.

The temperature dropped further. The wooden floor creaked under his weight, but the sound was wrong—too loud, too final, like the tolling of a bell.

Elara’s back hit the wall behind her. She hadn’t even realized she’d been backing away.

"I—" she started, but Viktor’s eyes silenced her.

"What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?"

Elara’s breathing quickened. Her massive breasts rose and fell rapidly beneath her maid outfit, straining against the fabric. Her pink hair stuck to her forehead with nervous sweat.

But then—slowly—she forced herself to take a breath.

To center herself.

To remember who—*what*—she was.

A succubus. A demon. Born of lust and chaos.

"You have to understand one thing," Elara said softly, her voice still trembling but gaining strength. "Being a lust demon... morality is useless. It’s not that we choose to be amoral. It’s that the concept itself doesn’t exist for us."

She met Viktor’s eyes, despite the fear coiling in her gut.

"Hesitation is death for demons. Mercy is weakness. You were about to gain incredible power—holy energy multiplied a hundredfold—but you were *hesitating*. So yes, I pushed you. I used my influence through our bond to quiet your doubts, to amplify your lust, to make you take what you needed."

Viktor’s expression didn’t change.

"And you thought that was acceptable?"

"I thought it was *necessary*," Elara countered, her voice rising slightly. "You’re not just Viktor Redwood anymore, husband. You’re becoming something more. Something that requires power to survive. And power doesn’t care about your human morality."

Silence.

The cold pressure in the hallway intensified until Elara felt like she was being crushed by invisible hands.

Then—slowly—Viktor’s expression shifted.

Not to anger. To something worse.

Disappointment.

"I see," he said quietly.

And just like that, the pressure vanished.

The temperature normalized. The oppressive weight lifted. Viktor’s eyes returned to their normal dark calm.

Elara gasped, sucking in a lungful of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her legs trembled, barely keeping her upright.

"But you’re right about one thing," Viktor continued, his voice returning to its normal controlled tone. "Morality is a luxury I can’t afford anymore. What’s done is done."

He turned away from her, looking back down the hallway toward nothing in particular.

"And naturally," Elara added quickly, desperately trying to regain some ground, "I *like* you, darling. Everything I did—I did because I want you to succeed. Because you’re mine."

She pushed off the wall, her confidence slowly returning now that the immediate threat had passed. She walked toward Viktor on slightly shaky legs, her hips swaying, her breasts bouncing with each step.

When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her soft body against his back. Her massive breasts squashed against his shoulder blades, her warmth seeping through his clothes.

"So," she purred against his ear, her lips brushing his skin, "what ability did you get from that tight holy bitch?"