Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 139: Sideways **

The fake world slowly dissolved around them.

One moment, the cold stone of the school’s support beam was scraping her back, the illicit rhythm of their joining the only sound in the universe. The next, there was a sickening lurch, a sensation of being violently yanked through a keyhole of reality.

The scent of old stone and adolescent sweat was replaced, in a dizzying blink, by the familiar, opulent aromas of sandalwood polish, sun-warmed stone, and the dry, clean air of the capital mansion.

No transition. No gentle return.

They were standing, well, staggering, really, in the exact spot they’d left. The grand, second-floor hallway of Eastiel’s capital mansion.

Eastiel’s arm was still locked around her waist, but the body she leaned against had changed. Gone was the lean, youthful frame in the stiff school uniform. In its place was the familiar, powerful expanse of her lion.

The broad shoulders she knew could carry empires, the corded muscle of his chest beneath the fine linen of his tunic, the golden mane that now brushed her cheek instead of short, human hair. He was fully, imposingly beast again. Adult. King.

And, as evidenced by the sudden, insistent, and very familiar pressure now straining against the front of his trousers, he was also instantly hard.

The transition had been so seamless for his body that the arousal from the scenario hadn’t dissipated. It had simply been upgraded and dumped into his real form with zero warning.

Cecilia went completely slack in his embrace, her legs giving out, her mind whiting out from the cognitive whiplash. She was still fully dressed in the garments she’d worn before the System hijacked them.

But the long, violent tear down the side of her plum-colored skirt, the one he’d ripped in a fit of playful frustration a lifetime ago, gaped open like a wound, exposing a length of pale thigh.

"It’s gone. My human cock."

Eastiel’s voice was a low, disgruntled rumble. He looked down at the very prominent, very feline bulge now tenting his trousers with a kind of a personal loss.

Cecilia took one look at his offended, narrowed golden eyes and completely lost it.

"AHWHAHAHHAHAH!" A burst of exhausted laughter shook her frame. Her already slack body went utterly boneless in his arms, tears of mirth streaming from the corners of her eyes.

"You want me to win it for you now...?" she managed to whisper between dying giggles, wiping her eyes. "But I don’t know if we have enough of the currency left..."

"How do we gain more of this... currency?" Eastiel asked, his voice taking on a deadly serious, strategic edge even as he began to move a deliberate grind of his hips against hers. "I’m not done with my human cock yet," he growled.

Cecilia bit her lip, the laughter subsiding into a shaky smile. "If I tell you how to farm it... it won’t be as effective." The core mechanic was harvesting his emotions that were triggered by her. His jealousy, his protectiveness, his love...

Eastiel let out a long, suffering sigh, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. "I can’t believe I’m having an existential crisis over the loss of a human cock I never actually had."

"For now..." Cecilia whispered, her hands coming up to frame his jaw, her thumbs stroking the sharp line of his cheekbones. "I want your lion cock."

The simplicity of the demand cut through the lingering absurdity. A slow smile touched his lips, the one she knew in her bones, the one that had nothing to do with high school bullies and everything to do with the king in his den.

"Alright," he murmured. In one smooth motion, he gathered her up fully into his arms, her torn silk skirt fluttering. He turned, his stride steady as he carried her down the moonlit hallway toward his chambers.

"Lion cock for my lioness."

He took her to the main chamber’s central space, where moonlight pooled on a vast, low divan piled with desert-weave cushions and silks the color of blood and sand. Even though this was the capital, who was to say he couldn’t import one or two of his favorite things from home?

He laid her down, the torn silk of her skirt whispering its secrets against the rich fabric beneath. Then his hands were on her, turning her, arranging her as a man who had been fantasizing about a specific... position.

He positioned her on her side, one of her legs drawn up high, bent at the knee. The other he guided to slide between his own, opening her to him sideways. He knelt before her, taking a deep breath. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"I’ve been dying to try this," he rasped in anticipation. His hands started to run from her raised ankle, along the exposed, glorious line of her inner thigh, "ever since that time in the woods with the four of us."

Cecilia blinked. "Did you..." she started, a slow blush heating her skin, embarrassed. "Did you... tell them I’m quite flexible?"

Eastiel chuckled. His thumbs pressed into the sweet, yielding flesh of her inner thighs, testing, claiming. "Yes."

He had discussed her body, its capabilities, with the other two.

Cecilia’s blush deepened.

"Elder Brothers were so relieved," Eastiel added, leaning down to nip at the sensitive skin of her bent knee, his words muffled against her flesh.

"Relieved?" she gasped.

"Mm." He kissed a path higher. "Brother Arkai pushed his cock, aiming for your back cunt, but he missed and lodged himself between the two of you..."

"Brother Oathran thought that your legs and... cocks... might be too much, that he had to be excessively careful." He looked up, his golden eyes gleaming in the low light.

"I told them you could take it."

Cecilia remembered that night. The night he felt they had crossed a certain line not many would, or had the opportunity to, cross.

"Now," he murmured. He leaned over her, the heat of his lion’s body enveloping her, his length a hard brand against her core. "Let me show you what I learned from wanting you in a position I only saw from across a campfire."

THRUST—

His entry was immediately deep, yet the pace was agonizingly slow. He savored the claim, millimeter by millimeter, utilizing every advantage of the feline texture and wicked angle he’d engineered.

"Aaaaahhhhnnn... nggghhh..."