Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Athan opened his eyes, of who knew how much strength he mustered from the heaviness that was on it. 

However, what bore to him was darkness. 

It wasn't pitch-black as his gaze landed on his body, bare and naked.

His back had such comfort among the red satin sheet—such a soft fabric that cradled him. 

Though it was weird, he knew he was lying down on it, yet his body refused to get up. 

With gritted teeth, he pushed forth, but the invisible weight dragged him.

The more he put such force, the more it resisted.

His chest rose and fell quickly with every deep breath he took; he couldn't help but submit himself from the coziness of the sheet he provided.

But after such a sensation he had, a question popped into his mind.

'...Where the hell am I—?'

He grunted when the sudden surge of heat crept every inch of his skin.

The heat began to embrace his flesh, which led to more and more of his sweat beading across his bare skin—from his limbs, all the way up to his head—had him tense. By and by, his breathing turned ragged and dry, with grunts on occasion upon trying to fight against it.

Every muscle he had gone rigorous, even how his shaft went fully erect.

Even the skin wasn't the only one moist, as several twitches had come along towered his already engorged size into a dripping wet, like morning dews that cascaded his glans.

There was no stopping him from every clench from his ass and the need to thrust his hip to relieve both pleasure and pain.

Withal, such a sear sent his skin ablaze, in no way he could decipher in his boggling sanity.

For the first time, he had to fight the incessant lust that had him coming.

He tried to arch his back, but it was like it adorned his back, never to detach itself and away from him.

Only then it couldn't get worse when a round of itch increased with such intensity—becoming too unbearable for him.

He squirmed and squirmed through the sheets, his hands clawed, revealing bellowing curls of the fabric, and his feet clamped as well.

'...A mere blanket this abundant…' Athan thought as he clenched it tightly, grabbing it close to his mouth with a sniff. With a groan, he bobbed his head and almost had eyes rolling from the aroma that assaulted his nose.

Afterwhich, the hotness and itchiness heightened along with the senses that made him tremble in subtlety.

It was a wrong move.

For the sheet somehow was akin to a drug, and it was like he befell into a place he could never break free from such sensation.

His lingering sanity had kept him on edge, despite him assaulted with the sensuality overwhelming him.

It was to this extent, and he had yet to touch himself.

Athan was almost driven to the edge of the desire for such an embrace, but he got out of it quickly when his ears caught that sultry voice that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"I'm beyond words of how slutty and perverted a man you've become."

Yet, instead of the fear that would take over him, it was the pleasure that sought and got ahead of him. Withal, his eyes wandered, trying to find the direction of the voice, although he failed as it resounded almost in his head.

"Looking for me?" Mystique giggled close to his ear. Such a tone of hers became a trigger that he could never resist from flinching over his rigid physique. "Too bad you won't be able to find me just yet."

"Why you wrench—!' he growled inwardly while he looked up right away the moment his ear felt the sudden tease from a nibble.

'Curses! Where is she—'

Although the onset of pleasure attacked his body, a great one at that. 

It was familiar yet foreign at the same time. 

Though he froze and unable to pull away the moment he glared downwards.

Mystique appeared from the shroud of darkness beyond, now crawling slowly towards him with such a seductive visage he could neither refuse nor ignore her alluring stance.

"You! Why are—Ngh, you here—No! Stop!"

He hissed at his cold touches, but his body begged to differ.

Like he wanted more, more of her.

Every time she brushed, a part of her would send sparks of electrocution all over him and forced him to withstand the lust that got pent up within him.

"No! No! Please… Stay there… I—" He pleaded as much as he could, but it was all for naught.

Closer and closer, and he let out a train of grunts and groans from such advances.

Now, her warm breaths make way and never fail to blow him away.

"What a naughty prince. Look at you, helpless and at my mercy all the while you are twitching in pleasure with each caress."

Her fingertips doodled from his raging girth to the stark ridges of his abs, grazed a tad bit on his luscious nipple, and to his neck that turned into a choke.

Athan grunted while coughing as he needed air to breathe. He wriggled himself, but her surprisingly strong hand clamped his neck to the sheet, blocking him from his chances. His eyes squinted out of the pain he felt with cries too hoarse to listen.

He was fighting for his breath, and almost a minute had passed.

Meanwhile, her cold and tempting curves weighed him and made things worse in his weakening state.

The pain stung worse as she squeezed his neck tight.

At this point, a myriad of emotions and sensations ravaged him; he didn't know what to think at this moment from the pleasurable pain.

A slight drool came as he gaped wide with his fangs protruding so fiercely.

When his gleaming crimson eyes slowly dimmed, only let her hands release from such a grip.

Athan coughed hard as the breath of fresh air swarmed his mouth. His blurred vision slowly came to be as he watched her sadistic smile, with a lick on her bottom lip.

"Feels good doing it, don't you agree?"

Although he had done it—with most of his partners in bed and all of the nasty things to poor lambs in his embrace—this was the first time he experienced such assertion of dominance, enough to force him to submission.

Such ecstatic feeling had him not to fight against it any longer.

He wanted more of it.

Perhaps this carnal fantasy would drive him insane out of fulfillment.