Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband-Chapter 198: Mr. Zero-Patience [M]

"So impatient," Medeia panted when he finally pulled back, just enough for her to catch her breath. "You haven’t even tasted the pie yet."

"I can eat it after I eat you first."

Lucian kissed her again, this time deeper, fiercer, as if he had been holding back his desire for far too long.

It wasn’t like him to be this passionate.

"The system told me you like my demon form." Medeia placed a hand on his chest, pushing lightly as she tried to catch her breath. "Tell me, what exactly do you like about it?"

Lucian rested his hands on the table, leaning down toward her. Medeia was half-lying on the table, her legs still on the floor as he hovered over her. He fell silent for a moment, as if searching for the right words to answer her unexpected question.

"There’s nothing much to say." He averted his gaze. "You look as beautiful as always."

"Oh, don’t be like that." Medeia traced her fingers along his chin, her gaze locking onto his emerald eyes that clouded with undeniable lust. "If your answer satisfies me, maybe ... next time, I’ll let you fuck me while I’m in demon form for thirthy minutes."

Lucian swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "It’s just ... you look hot and s—" He suddenly closed his mouth, realizing something. "I’m sorry. That sounded inappropriate."

Medeia let out a soft laugh. "Honey, that sounded more like a compliment to me."

Then, wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in and whispered against his ear, her breath warm against his skin. "Besides ... even if you insult me as much as you want, all you’ll do is make me wetter down there."

Lucian’s brows furrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Because ..." Medeia dragged her nails lightly down his back before biting his ear. "Some demons have a serious degrading kink." She smiled. "And I just happen to be one of them."

No, she didn’t enjoy being degraded by just anyone, but Lucian? He was the exception. He could ruin her, wreck her, drag her to the edge and pull her apart, and she would take it all, begging for more.

Without another word, Lucian pinned her down on the table, trailing heated kisses along her neck as his hands slipped under her shirt.

Since they didn’t have much time to play around, Lucian didn’t bother with much foreplay. Not that he needed to because Medeia was already dripping just from his kisses and the slightest tease on her nipples.

Hell, how was she this weak for him?

Lucian pulled their pants down, then turned her around, pressing her forward until she was bent over the table, her hands bracing against the surface. Her shirt was in complete disarray, two buttons missing from where he had ripped it open in his haste.

He tugged her shirt down just enough to expose her bare shoulder, then sank his teeth into her skin, leaving a mark that was entirely his.

"Lucian ... ngh." Medeia moaned softly as he slowly pushed his manhood inside her, stretching her inch by inch with deliberate care.

His hands gripped her waist firmly, holding her in place, his fingers pressing deep enough to leave faint imprints on her delicate skin.

Lucian let out a low growl, brushing his hair back before thrusting into her vigorously. His breath came out in ragged pants, while Medeia felt like her legs were no longer touching the ground as he picked up his pace, pounding into her relentlessly.

She clutched the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white as her moans grew louder with each thrust. Usually, they took their time with one another, savoring every moment, but now the sex was intense and fast, as if neither of them had a shred of patience left.

"Lucian—ah—" Her moans filled the room, mixing with the creaking sound of the table beneath them.

His breath was hot against her neck as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before murmuring, "You feel so fucking good." His voice was thick with lust, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate.

Medeia barely had the strength to stay upright. Every inch of her was hypersensitive to the warmth of his breath, the possessive way he held her, the pleasure that made her toes dig into the floor. She wasn’t just feeling it, she was drowning in it.

Lucian groaned against her neck, his pace quickening, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing over her sensitive nipples. "Medeia," he gritted his teeth. "I’m coming."

Medeia stuttered, "M-me ... too."

As Lucian pulled Medeia closer, his breath came in ragged gasps against her skin. His movements grew erratic, desperate. Medeia clung to the edge of the table, her body trembling from the overwhelming sensation.

With one final thrust, Lucian buried himself deep, groaning her name in a tone both tender and filled with desire. Medeia bit down on her lower lip, her legs shaking beneath her. If not for Lucian holding her body, she was sure her knees would have given out.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. Then, Lucian let out a low chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to her bare shoulder. "That was fast," he murmured.

He cupped her chin, tilting her flushed face toward him. His emerald eyes watched over her. "Are you okay?"

Medeia let out a breathless laugh and dropped her head onto the table, her mouth slightly open as she tried to catch her breath. "Give me ... a second," she panted.

Lucian’s smile softened as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from her damp forehead. "Take all the time you need," he murmured, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her shoulder and down her back with a tenderness that sent shivers through her.

He pulled out, then lifted her onto the table, settling her in his embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder while Lucian continued to press soft kisses along her neck, his hands gently caressing her back.

If he kept treating her this sweetly, Medeia might actually die from diabetes.

"How about your tummy?" he asked. "Does it still hurt?"

Medeia finally lifted her head, laughing. "Aren’t you asking a little too late, Mr. Zero-patience?"

"I have patience." Lucian smiled. "Just not when it comes to you."

"My tummy’s fine, not great, but not bad either." She turned her head toward the now-cold oven. "Do you want to take a bite of your childhood dessert?"

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