Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power Chapter 424: Blissful night
Previously on Killed Me? Now I Have Your Power...
Chapter 424 – Blissful night
Gazing into the mirror, Saul examined his features, observing the deep, languid, drowsy eyes reminiscent of a pitch-black night devoid of stars, paired with his lengthy, matching locks.
He smoothed oil through his hair, rendering it more lustrous and sleek, then gathered it into a ponytail. A few loose strands hung playfully before his eyes.
Emerging from the bathroom next, he donned the black training uniform of Order Orion — it fit him flawlessly.
Following these adjustments, along with a few other touches to enhance his appeal, Saul left his quarters and headed toward his master's chamber.
Night had fallen.
His pace was unhurried, almost leisurely, as he traversed hallway after hallway, offering brief nods of acknowledgment to the occasional passersby.
Reaching a T-junction, Saul veered left and proceeded about thirty steps until the earlier bustle faded into obscurity.
Silence now enveloped him, serene and tranquil, flanked by dark walls on both sides.
At last, he halted before a doorway.
Like everything else, the door was pitch black, though a name had been carved into its surface.
Aminata Sene Orion — Seven Scarred Huntress.
Saul drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling, exhaling all traces of tension before lifting his hand to rap against the wood.
The pattern of knocks was unusual, resembling a melodic tune.
Two raps first, followed by a pause, then five more with another break — briefer this time — concluding with a single faint tap.
His hand dropped to his side, swinging lightly as he stood in anticipation. The wait proved short; the door slid open with a gentle whisper, and a voice drifted from within the chamber,
"You have taken your time, Saul, haven’t you?" Aminata’s tone resonated, warmer and more tender than what she had shown Sky. "Enter now."
Stepping inside, Saul crossed the threshold. The door sealed shut behind him, as though guided by invisible will.
Surrounded by the inviting aroma of cinnamon permeating the space, Saul’s gaze settled promptly on the woman seated on the floor near the flickering hearth.
Clad solely in a black nightgown that revealed much of her dark skin, she exuded allure.
Aminata tilted her head up to meet Saul’s eyes, the warm red light from the fire casting a mesmerizing glow on her features.
"Come." She commanded.
Without hesitation, Saul complied, advancing with composed, even strides that sank into the thick black rug covering the floor. The chamber was spacious, dominated by a massive bed crafted from dark bones at its center, accompanied by a nearby shelf.
In one corner stood a table cluttered with assorted books and documents. Adjacent to it, another door opened to the bathing area.
Though not his initial visit to Aminata’s domain, Saul absorbed these details anew.
Just as Saul drew near, Aminata stood, towering over him so she had to lower her gaze to meet his. Her right hand rose to stroke his cheek and tousle his hair tenderly.
A smile played on her lips.
"I see you have taken care of yourself well."
"You asked me to," Saul hesitated, then amended, "you ordered me to."
"Oh, you don’t like me ordering you?" Aminata’s voice carried amusement. "Should I remind you that you are standing in the presence of a Seven Scarred?"
"In a nightgown," Saul remarked, eyeing her form boldly with a subtle grin. "You don’t look so threatening in your current attire."
"How do I look then?" Aminata murmured, drawing her face close to his, her fragrance overwhelming his senses.
Cinnamon-infused perfume, Saul surmised without effort.
"You know well," Saul replied. "You don’t need me to say it."
"Say it."
"Delicious," Saul responded.
"And it’s all for you," Aminata chuckled. "It’s been a while since we passed a night together. You refused a lot of my invitations."
Lovingly, she traced his cheek, her gaze locked onto his.
"But today it was you who sought me first. Interesting, don’t you think? So tell me, why today, Saul?" She whispered. "What do you wish of me?"
"Was it that obvious?"
"You didn’t try to hide it, did you? Spit it out. Tell me what you wish, I will give it to you, and this night you are mine."
"A game participation," Saul stated, drawing his body nearer to Aminata’s, drawing soft moans from them both.
"What game?"
"The SSS-ranked games," Saul clarified, making Aminata’s eyes widen instantly. "It doesn’t matter the content of it."
His declaration prompted Aminata to pull back abruptly, seeking space from him.
Yet Saul gripped her arms firmly. Though his power paled beside hers, she avoided exerting force against him whenever possible.
Thus, she yielded, remaining within his hold, his earlier words echoing in her thoughts.
Moments of strained quiet passed before she spoke.
"No," Aminata snapped. "You are not strong enough to participate in those games. You are only a Master, not even a Grandmaster, Saul. And those games kill Epithets like ants."
Concern etched her features, her dark eyes piercing into his.
"I know," he acknowledged, "but I need to participate in those games."
"What for?"
"Did you forget your promise?" Saul prompted Aminata.
Silence gripped her.
Saul’s fingers trailed her face, descending to her full breasts, cupping them and eliciting a bitten-back moan from Aminata.
His touch ventured lower, over her firm, bare abdomen, then between her thighs.
Unable to restrain herself, Aminata let out a moan.
"Everything you want," Saul uttered at last, his voice rough with desire. "Accept my request, and I will do everything you want."
"That’s... that’s how much it means to you?" Aminata gasped.
"Yes."
"Then will you agree to be one of us?" She asked. "To be a Bonehunter?"
Saul hesitated, his expression clouding with doubt and reluctance. Aminata observed without a word.
Soon after, Saul exhaled deeply. "Yes," he agreed. "I will be one of you."
Joy spread across Aminata’s face in a broad smile. She surged forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss brimming with unexpected ardor for someone of her stature.
Saul returned the kiss with greater zeal. Gradually, they edged toward the bed, where he eased her down onto her back.
Her eyes fixed on him, she nibbled her lower lip alluringly, extending both arms in welcome, her breasts shifting enticingly.
"I accept your request," she declared, "but before I allow you to participate, I want you to be a Grandmaster first."
"Who—!"
"I will take care of it." She cut him off. "I will give you an evolution stone and everything else."
"Now," Aminata went on, smirking, "I tire of talk of power. Look at me, and be with me with all of you. No stray thoughts. Can you?"
"I can."
"Then I hope you are ready." Aminata laughed softly. "You and I, all night, nonstop."
A grin lit Saul’s face as he plunged into Aminata’s embrace, his head nestling against her yielding, ample breasts.
"I am ready, of course."
"I won’t stop even if you are about to die."
"Die from pleasure? Please, I beg, kill me."
Aminata burst into laughter, and Saul claimed her lips once more.
The night stretched ahead endlessly.
...
Meanwhile, right then, outside Laly’s room, Tristan lingered in his finest black and orange outfit, awaiting her appearance.
The door soon groaned open, and Laly stepped through the opening.
Tristan’s pulse raced at the sight of her breathtaking look. Her hair was woven in Orion’s traditional braids, her figure accentuated by a white robe blooming with floral patterns against her ebony complexion.
His mouth fell agape, leaving him rooted in place.
"Well," Laly teased with a sly smile, "how long will you stare without saying anything?"
"Everything I say will pale in comparison to what I truly feel," Tristan replied. "How about you approach and listen to the erratic rhythm of my heart?"
"What will I hear, I wonder?" She chuckled, stepping closer to him.
"Nothing but a song of love for you."
Laly let out a hearty laugh, linked her right arm with his left, and guided him forward.
"Reserve your sweet words for later. You will need them. We have a long night, Tristan."
Tristan merely smiled, though its corners quivered slightly.
In that moment, awareness struck him of his fear, and he inwardly berated himself.
’Oh Tristan, oh fool Tristan... who told you to play with matters of the heart?’
—End of Chapter 424—