From a daring angle, his lips found her again.

She gasped faintly, “Mm…” Her breath caught as the Wolf King kissed the droplets on her sensitive peak, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles over the hardened tip. Savoring her softness, he moved to the other side with equal hunger. Her head tilted back slightly, overwhelmed, her body trembling beneath his touch. His firm arousal pressed tightly against her thigh, igniting sparks where their skin met. The heat inside her still hadn’t subsided—and yet she knew, instinctively, that he was about to enter her again. And strangely, a part of her anticipated it.

“So sweet,” he murmured, eyes fixed on her flushed face as he lifted her chin with a single finger. His lips found hers again—this time deeper, more possessive.

“Mmm…” she whimpered against his mouth. His tongue slid between her lips, exploring her with intoxicating heat.

Using the current of the spring, he guided himself into her again.

“Ah…” she moaned, the sound muffled by his kiss. The springwater had washed away some of her natural slickness, making every motion between them sharper, more intense. Each thrust sent a more vivid jolt through her, her body hyper-aware of his every move. Releasing her lips, he focused fully on the rhythm, and she clung to him, unable to stand on her own. Her voice spilled out in broken gasps—“Mmm… mmh… ahhh…”—as waves lapped against their bodies, echoing alongside her cries.

Heat surged to her cheeks. Somewhere outside, other beastmen might hear them. But the pleasure was too intense to hold back. She tried, once, to stifle a sound—he noticed.

Lifting her thigh, he smirked darkly, “Let them hear.”

“Ah… ah… aah!” Her leg was raised high, forced open in a position she could barely hold. Balancing on one foot in the water, she was barely standing at all—her weight fully supported by his firm, hot body. Her cries grew louder.

He drove into her with increasing intensity, the friction like fire inside her. She couldn’t hold back any longer. The cave filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, of water rippling, of her voice rising higher and higher.

At last, with a deep, guttural growl, he thrust one final time—and they fell over the edge together.

Panting, he pulled out gently. “You’ve earned a real rest this time,” he said, carefully washing her body with steady hands. Then he lifted her from the water, dried her with beast fur, and laid her gently onto a thick, soft pelt. Joining her, he pulled another hide over them, wrapping her in his arms possessively. “Sleep,” he said.

She closed her eyes obediently. After a moment, his breathing grew calm and steady.

In her mind, she whispered, “System? You there?”

“Host,” came the familiar artificial voice, chipper as ever. “That was… quite something. Your complexion looks much better.”

“He really is something else...”

“Right? So strong!” the system replied playfully. “You were even pretending to resist…”

“It’s for the mission!” she retorted mentally, flushing. “I mean... with a face and body like that, who could push him away?”

“Well, luckily, he likes that sort of thing…”

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes internally. “Where’s the next mission?”

“Let’s see if you can sneak away first!”

“Another Hit and Run,” she whispered inwardly.

That’s what she called it—Hit and Run. Ever since being summoned to this beast world, the system had informed her she needed to complete missions through... intimate encounters with specific targets, gathering energy along the way. It was supposedly similar to dual cultivation—only she was the one gathering essence.

At first, she joked about joining some cultivation sect—the Sect of Pleasure, perhaps. All rest, no stress. Lay flat and call it a day.

But she’d been wrong.

This world wasn’t one of idle rest—it was another kind of full-time grind. One man after another. No roots. No place to stay. Just another mission, another goodbye.

“A real Hit and Run,” she’d scoffed.

The system had asked what that meant.

“Crash and flee. Leave them and drive off.”

“Fitting,” it had agreed, cheerfully. “Though in your case, they’re very happy during the crash.”

She’d groaned. No emotional attachments, just power exchange. It was supposed to be efficient, harmless. Like... dual cultivation. Nothing more.

Yet, something about the Wolf King had felt different.

And that worried her most.

When she awoke the next morning, the cave was silent—empty. The Wolf King was nowhere in sight.

She sat up, wrapped in the warmth of the fur, and took in her surroundings. The cave was larger than she’d realized, its walls lined with dried meat, fresh fruit, and a few simple essentials—bowls, pots, and pans. The water pool from the night before, now clearer in the morning light, was in fact a small natural hot spring. Steam curled gently from the surface, tempting her to soak in its comfort again.

Her clothes, which had been carelessly discarded the night before, were now neatly folded by the side. She quickly reached for them and dressed. Just as she finished, the Wolf King stepped into the cave, a cleaned catch slung over his shoulder.

"You're awake?" he said, his voice casual, though his eyes held a flicker of something more.

The sight of him brought a vivid memory of last night flashing into her mind. She looked down, her cheeks flushing, and gave a small nod.

Without a word, he began preparing breakfast. He strung the catch over the fire and set it to roast. Once everything was in place, he came to sit beside her. His large arm wrapped around her naturally, drawing her in. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over her as though checking for signs of distress.

She looked away, her face still warm. “I'm fine.” It was true. Even if there had been some discomfort, it had quickly faded. With the energy-gathering system within her, she now felt refreshed, her skin glowing with renewed vitality.

He noticed. A glimmer of interest lit his eyes as he held her tighter, lifting her chin gently to meet his gaze. “I’m Sith—the Wolf King of this territory. I still don’t know your name.”

“Sue,” she said quietly, tilting her face away from his intensity.

“Sue… then I’ll call you Sue from now on. That alright?” His tone was light, almost playful.

“Mm…” she murmured. Names didn’t matter. What mattered was figuring out how to leave this place. She glanced at the roasting meat, her thoughts drifting elsewhere.

“Hungry?” he asked, noticing her gaze. “You must be. You didn’t eat a thing last night.” With a chuckle, he pulled her to sit beside the fire, adjusting the skewer with ease. Fat dripped into the flames, sizzling softly.

“It was my fault,” he said, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. “I should’ve taken better care of you.” Then, almost like a passing observation, he added, “You look even more beautiful today.”

One arm turned the skewer with practiced ease. The other gently held her close, fingers brushing along her arm in quiet affection.

His touch wandered, subtle at first, but soon too bold. She jerked away, flustered. “What are you doing?!”

His smile deepened, teasing. “We’ve got nothing else to do right now. Why not enjoy each other?”

“Didn’t you say you were roasting meat?!” she snapped, trying to push his hand away again.

“I can do both.” He pulled her close once more, burying his face in her hair. Her scent made him sigh contentedly. A light nip on her ear made her tense with a shiver.

“Ah—” Sue gasped, the heat in her skin rising.

Taking advantage of her reaction, he gently explored the softness of her form, his touches slow, reverent. Light kisses trailed along her cheek, her ear, the crown of her head—nothing rushed, only the echo of emotion that lingered from the night before.

Her body softened under his care. She leaned into him, dazed and breathless, while his free hand kept the fire in check, rotating the meat without missing a beat.

Whether it was the flames or his nearness, she couldn’t tell, but a restless warmth spread through her. The aroma of roasted meat wafted in the air, yet his hand didn’t pause.

“There’s still a little time,” he whispered, voice low and coaxing.

He shifted her gently, guiding her to straddle him face to face. Her knees curled against his strong waist, the closeness making her heart flutter wildly.

Her cheeks turned scarlet. The posture felt too intimate, too revealing. Sith leaned in to kiss her lips, drawing her closer, his palm pressing lightly at her back to guide her in. Even through the fur between them, she could feel the heated pulse of his body.

His fingers traced her waist, then lower, adjusting the fur around her. “Just relax,” he murmured, his voice a promise. As their bodies came closer, she clung to his shoulders, her breath catching.

When they finally joined, the motion was seamless—like a memory returning, like two parts drawn together by something older than understanding. Their soft cries blended, not in pain, but in a strange, aching relief.

To be continued...

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