Reincarnated as a Healer : Why are my powers so filthy?
Chapter 39: pushed

Chapter 39: pushed

He pushed in, his cock sliding into her tight, wet heat, inch by inch, her pussy clenching around him with a warmth that made his head spin.

Tila gasped—high and sharp—her back arching, her nails digging into his shoulders, but she didn’t stop him, her hips tilting to take him deeper.

He started slow, his hips moving in a steady, sensual rhythm, each thrust drawing a soft whimper from her, her body trembling beneath him, her small breasts bouncing gently, sweat beading on her collarbone.

"You’re so deep," she whimpered, her voice a mix of pain and pleasure, her eyes shut tight, her mouth open in breathless moans.

"So warm... I can feel your magic."

Leon groaned, his magic surging, golden light tracing down his back, sparking at his fingertips as his powers flared—fire and wind entwining, fueled by the heat of her body.

He leaned down, kissing her neck, his lips savoring the salt of her sweat, his tongue licking a slow path along her collarbone, then down to her breasts, sucking gently on her nipple, making her gasp louder.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her hips rocking to meet his thrusts, the wet slap of their bodies echoing in the alcove, muffled by the distant screams and steel of the battlefield.

"Use me... again... again..." Tila panted, her voice desperate, her pussy clenching tighter around him, her thighs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.

Leon gritted his teeth, his thrusts growing faster, harder, each one more forceful, his cock buried in her slick heat, her moans rising to a crescendo.

The magic in his chest roared, a second heartbeat, fire and wind spiraling together, the bonds with Saria and Terya pulsing in harmony.

Somewhere beyond the pillar, Saria roared in rage, her voice a distant thunder, but here, the world was only skin and heat, Tila’s body trembling beneath him, her pussy gripping him like a vice.

He thrust hard—once, twice, thrice—then came inside her with a guttural groan, his climax flooding her, her walls shuddering around him as she screamed, her own release hitting with a high, desperate cry.

Magic exploded in his chest, a torrent of fire and wind that crackled through the air, his skin glowing with faint gold, his veins pulsing with power.

Tila’s body shook, her legs trembling, tears in her eyes as she clung to him, her breath ragged.

"You’re full again, right?" she whispered, her voice weak but warm, a faint smile breaking through her tears.

Leon looked down at her, kissing her lips softly, tasting the salt of her sweat and tears, his hand brushing her cheek.

"You were perfect," he said, his voice rough but sincere.

He pulled out gently, helping her sit up, her cloak draping over her trembling body as she redressed, giggling despite her dizziness, her face flushed red.

The sounds of battle sharpened—Saria’s shouts, Terya’s wind arcs slicing, the screams of soldiers.

Leon stood, his magic burning through his veins, his eyes blazing gold, his black and crimson tunic hanging in tatters.

"Stay here," he said, his voice steady, resolute. "I’ve got a demon to finish."

He ran back toward the throne, his boots pounding the bone tiles, the Stormbrand powers roaring in his chest, ready to face Vraxus.

.

.

.

The battle hadn’t stopped. The throne chamber echoed with the clash of steel, the hiss of fire, and the screams of the dying, the bone-tiled floor slick with blood and ash.

Vraxus stood—barely—one arm hanging limp, bone exposed at the elbow, black blood oozing from wounds across his obsidian flesh.

His other three weapons—jagged sword, serrated hook, spiked chain—lashed wildly, more instinct than precision, his torn parchment wings twitching behind him.

His molten gold eyes burned, but the fire was fading, his breaths heavy with strain.

Saria’s breathing was ragged, one eye bruised shut, her torn black robe barely covering her blood-streaked body, her armor half-gone.

Flames flickered along her blade, weaker but unyielding, her fire-colored eyes fierce despite the pain in her cracked ribs.

Terya stood to her right, limping, her blonde hair matted with blood, her twin daggers clenched tight, a fresh wound on her thigh seeping through her leather pants.

Still, they fought, their movements driven by sheer will.

"Come on!" Saria roared, parrying the spiked chain and slashing across Vraxus’s side, her blade carving a shallow gash that hissed with black blood. "You’re almost done!"

"I’ve still got one arm left to break!" Terya yelled, twisting past a staff swing, her wind-coated daggers slicing upward, grazing Vraxus’s thigh.

She winced, her ribs protesting, but her smirk held.

Vraxus let out a deep, guttural growl, his eyes flaring gold, his voice a low snarl.

"You cling to life like vermin."

Then—a flash of golden light from behind a fractured pillar.

Leon emerged, his tattered black and crimson tunic flapping, his eyes blazing with power, his steps strong, magic pulsing at his fingertips from Tila’s desperate recharge.

The Stormbrand powers—his hybrid fire-wind magic—roared in his chest, a living storm fueled by the heat of her body, the memory of her trembling beneath him.

"Sorry for the wait," he said, his hands glowing, a grin breaking through his blood-smeared face. "You two still breathing?"

"Barely," Saria muttered, her voice hoarse, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"You look flushed," Terya said, her green eyes glinting as she eyed him, blood dripping from her arm. "Tila give you a proper recharge?"

Leon smirked, his voice warm. "Very."

He stepped forward, his magic crackling, the air shimmering around him. "Let’s finish him. Together."

Vraxus roared, swinging wildly—hook, chain, staff lashing through the crimson-lit hall.

Saria took the lead, her blade catching the hook midair, sparks flying as she twisted, her flames flaring brighter.

Leon darted in, casting a controlled Scorch Spiral, a tight bolt of spiraling fire and wind that slammed into Vraxus’s ribs, pushing him back, the impact singeing his flesh.

The demon lord staggered, snarling, black blood spraying.

Terya seized the opening, leaping in from the side, her daggers driving deep into Vraxus’s remaining leg, her wind magic slicing through muscle.

He dropped to one knee, his roar shaking the obsidian walls, his gold eyes flickering with rage.