🔥 Summoned for Sin — A Multiple Choice Fantasy |Part 2| (Patreon)

Winning choice ↴

~Stand your ground and smirk. If she wants a game, you’ll give her one-

You don’t flinch.Even with her standing right there, barely clothed, hips cocked and golden eyes raking over you like a meal — you stay still. You smirk.

A slow, knowing curl of your lips.

And her smile widens — the kind of smile that should come with a warning. It’s hungry. Curious. Amused that you haven’t crumbled yet. Most would be on their knees by now, begging. You?

You're standing tall.

She loves it.

Her slides in closer, those leather straps hugging every curve of her sinful body. Her breasts rise with each breath, her thighs flex as she closes the last inch between you. You feel the heat of her body first — not just warmth, but pressure — like standing near a flame that knows it can burn you.

She looks up at you from beneath thick, dark lashes, her smirk turning into something wicked.‘Oh... you’re going to be fun,’ she says, voice like velvet dragging across your skin. ‘So full of defiance. So full of need.’

Her hand lifts, the back of her fingers barely grazing your chest — not quite touching. Teasing. Testing. You can feel the electric pull of her already. The instinct to lean in. To grab. To fuck.

But you hold still.Barely.

‘You think you’re in control?’ she whispers. Her voice dips lower, rich and sultry. ‘Tell me… is that a sword in your trousers or are you just that happy to see me?’

Your smirk deepens, but your cock throbs at the sound of her voice, the scent of her skin, the sheer force of her presence. Every inch of her body seems designed to tempt you — the curve of her waist, the perfect round of her ass, the soft swell of her breasts, nipples hard beneath the straps.

She leans in, her breath hot against your ear.

‘Let’s see how long you last.’

Then she presses her body to yours — slow, deliberate — dragging the full length of her curves up against your chest, her thigh slipping between your legs, grazing just enough to make you twitch.

She feels it. Smiles wider.

Her fingers curl around the back of your neck, pulling you down just an inch — not enough to kiss. Just enough to make you want to.

‘Still smiling?’ she purrs.

Suddenly — before you can speak, before you can even blink — she shoves you.

Her strength is shocking.

Your fall back, with your back hitting the table with a thud as you land on top of it, the wood rattling beneath you as she presses forward, climbing on top of you like a queen reclaiming her throne. She’s straddling your hips in seconds, her thighs firm and warm against yours, her weight pinning you perfectly.

You grunt — not from pain, but from the rush of it.

Her eyes sparkle, molten and bright. That same smirk hasn’t left her lips, but now it’s hungry. Starving. Like she’s finally gotten her claws on the meal she’s been circling.

‘Oh, you look even better beneath me,’ she murmurs, running her hands slowly up your chest. ‘All stretched out… helpless… hard.’

You are hard. Painfully. And she sees it. Feels it.

Her long, sharp nails graze down your stomach — a soft threat — until they reach the waistband of your joggers. She curls two fingers under them, grinning when your breath catches.

‘These,’ she says, tugging at the fabric, ‘are in my way.’

She curls her hands around the waistband, gripping tight — and you know she’s about to rip them straight off. Her thighs tighten around your hips. Her bare skin is flush against your abs. Her voice drops to a low, throaty purr.

‘Let’s see what you’re really made of, mortal.’