Chapter 70: Stabilizing Elena [1] [R-18 Contents!]

After the Fire Spitter incident, I knew I couldn’t keep postponing it. At some point, I had to talk to Elena about everything—the truth about the Dullahan Virus, the dangers that came with it, and what it meant for her future.

I had already confessed everything to Rachel after wrestling with the decision for days. It hadn’t been easy, but she deserved to know, and so did Elena. The difference was… telling Elena terrified me more. Maybe because she was quieter, more guarded, and I had no idea how she would take it. Still, after two long days of hesitation and pacing back and forth in my head, I finally forced myself to explain it all to her.

Her reaction was exactly what I feared.

When I told her about an alien race trying to conquer Earth by unleashing the Infected—zombies that were more than just mindless corpses—her expression froze. I went on, explaining how those same aliens were hunting people like us, carriers of a stronger, rarer virus that set us apart. And then I told her the part that made my throat dry: that the Dullahan Virus inside her could turn her into something monstrous if it wasn’t stabilized.

And the only way to stabilize it was… through sex.

With me.

The silence that followed could have shattered glass. She just stared at me, gripping her necklace so tightly I thought the chain would snap. I’ll never forget the way she stood up and left without a single word.

For days I thought I had lost her completely. That she hated me, or worse—thought I was manipulating her. But later, I realized she hadn’t run because of hate. She had been too shocked, too overwhelmed, too embarrassed to process something that insane. Who wouldn’t?

I gave her time. I didn’t push.

But three days ago, the first signs of the virus began showing. The headaches I warned her about finally struck. That was when she came to me again. We had another talk—long, awkward, filled with silences that seemed to stretch forever. Her cheeks flushed crimson the whole time, her eyes never meeting mine. And yet, beneath her embarrassment, she understood the truth. She didn’t have the luxury of ignoring it anymore.

That night, after fumbling through explanations neither of us wanted to voice, we agreed. Tonight would be her first stabilisation.

Three days had passed since that conversation. Enough time for the weight of the decision to sink in, enough time for us to accept the inevitable—at least on the surface.

When the moment finally came, I found myself walking down the steps into the basement.

The room had been transformed. Dozens of candles flickered along the rough stone walls, filling the space with a soft, golden glow that danced against the shadows. I had set the candles down earlier, but it was Elena who had lit them. Their faint smell of melted wax and smoke hung in the cool underground air.

On the hard concrete floor lay a thick bedsheet. I had dragged it down myself, but Elena had spread it neatly, smoothing out the wrinkles as though preparing a place of rest… or surrender.

And then there was her.

Elena stood waiting, her back straight but her shoulders stiff, every inch of her body betraying her nervousness. She wore light blue knee-length shorts and a plain white T-shirt—simple, casual clothes, but on her they looked almost delicate. Her hands were clutched against her chest, her knuckles pale from the pressure. Her face was a mixture of emotions: fear, embarrassment, and something else she probably couldn’t name herself.

I swallowed hard.

“Do you… want some more time first?” I asked gently. “We don’t have to rush. We could talk, or—”

She shook her head quickly, cutting me off. “Le… let’s just get it over with,” she whispered, her voice trembling but determined.

I nodded slowly. “Right.”

Stepping onto the sheet, I pulled my shirt over my head. My chest felt bare not from the cold but from the weight of her eyes on me.

Elena’s face flushed pink. Her hands fumbled at the hem of her T-shirt, hesitating, then with a shaky breath she lifted it over her head. She was left in a pale blue bra that matched her shorts.

“You don’t have to,” I said softly, seeing the nerves in her every movement.

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “No… it’ll get sweaty. And it’ll smell. Alya will notice.”

“I see,” I murmured, pretending not to stare, though my eyes betrayed me by flicking down to her chest before I forced them away.

She knelt first, lowering herself onto the bedsheet with movements as stiff and deliberate as a soldier marching into battle. Then, with hesitant fingers, she hooked her thumbs into her shorts and slid them down, inch by inch, until her long white legs were bare and only her blue underwear remained.

My throat tightened as I watched.

She was breathtaking. Vulnerable in a way I had never seen her, fragile and strong all at once.

Elena lay back slowly, resting her head on the small pillow she had brought for herself. Her platinum blond hair spilled over it, the flickering candlelight painting her skin in warm tones. She stared at the ceiling then her breath quickening.

And then she stilled—waiting, bracing herself, leaving the rest to me.

I knelt down on the spread sheet and let my palms roam over Elena’s legs. Her skin was soft with a faint tremble beneath my fingertips, the kind of tremor that came from nerves and anticipation both. I let my touch wander slowly, unhurried, so she would feel every inch of my attention.

Her thighs quivered when I bent forward and brushed my lips across her shin, trailing feather–light kisses upward, mapping her calf with my mouth before moving higher. “Mmh…” Elena’s voice was small, breathy, a sound that rose each time my lips pressed into her skin, until her toes curled against the fabric beneath her.

I slid my hands to her knees, parted them just enough to settle myself closer between them, and let my mouth find the soft heat of her inner thighs. I kissed slow, lingering, the wet sound of my lips against her skin punctuated by the little gasps she couldn’t suppress. “Haa…” She sighed when I lingered too close, thighs shifting restlessly around me. My thumbs caressed up and down her legs, keeping her steady while I teased her.

By the time I kissed the tender flesh at the top of her thighs, her panties were clinging damply to her, the scent of her arousal already curling in the air, musky and sweet. I hooked a finger under the thin cloth and drew it aside. The sight of her glistening folds made my throat tighten, saliva pooling as I stared. She raised an arm over her face, hiding herself, though the flush spreading down her chest told me how aware she was of my gaze.

I leaned down, tongue flicking out to taste her.

“Haaa~~” She moaned at once, thighs clamping instinctively around my head. The first stroke of my tongue had her squirming, her hips pressing into me even as she tried to cover her mouth with her hand. I shifted the fabric further aside until her pussy was bared completely, glistening, perfect. I mouthed against her folds, kissing before tracing slow licks over her, savoring every tremor that rippled through her.

“Hhm!” Elena jerked when I teased the sensitive edges, her hands twitching against the sheets. I let one of mine wander lower, circling her slick entrance with my middle finger while my tongue fluttered over her folds.

When I pressed the fingertip against her, her breath hitched sharply. “R…Ryan…” She whispered my name, as if asking what I was doing.

“Haaa—aah!” Her cry slipped out before she could stifle it against her palm, face burning red as her body clenched around me. I slid deeper, her heat enveloping me, the wetness coating my finger as I began to move it in a steady rhythm. Her walls gripped me greedily with every plunge, and I curled my knuckle to stroke that tender spot inside while my tongue and lips worked at her folds.

Elena squeezed her eyes shut, chest rising in quick shallow breaths, hips rocking unconsciously to meet each thrust of my finger. Slick sounds filled the basement now, the wet glide of my finger in her pussy blending with the faint, desperate whimpers that escaped from behind her hand. I didn’t relent—mouth and hand working in unison, coaxing her body open, drawing her deeper into sensation.

“Haah!”

Her body writhed under my touch, every gasp spilling from her lips louder than the last, until she gave up on hiding behind her hand and clutched at the sheet instead, knuckles whitening. I pushed deeper with my finger, feeling the velvety clutch of her pussy suck me in, each plunge wetter than the last. My tongue circled her clit now, teasing at first, then lashing firmer, faster, each lap making her thighs quiver and clamp hard around my head.

“Ahhhnn—haahhh, Ryaaaan!” She moaned out, her voice cracking as her hips bucked up into my face. The heat of her was intoxicating, her taste spreading on my tongue, sharp and sweet, and I couldn’t stop myself from groaning against her folds, the vibration making her squeal and squirm even more.

Her walls pulsed around my finger as I added a second, stretching her gradually, making her moan even louder. The slick sound of my fingers working in and out of her filled the air, obscene and wet, joined by her breathless cries. “Nnnhhh—haaahhh—noooo,” she gasped, arching her back so beautifully, breasts pressing against her bra, nipples hard beneath the fabric.

I didn’t. My mouth latched onto her clit, sucking, while my fingers pistoned inside, curling to hit that perfect spot. Her entire body jerked like a current was running through her, toes curling hard, thighs shaking around me. She tried to squeeze them shut but I held them open with my free hand.

Her cries turned higher, choppier, her voice breaking with every plunge of my fingers. “I…I’m…haaaan—I’m gonna—w…wait…haaah!”

She couldn’t even finish before her body seized. A sharp cry ripped from her throat, back arching off the sheet, hips grinding desperately into my face as her orgasm took her. “Hhhhaaaaaaahhh!” She wailed, her pussy clamping down tight around my fingers, flooding them with her slick as wave after wave rolled through her.

I didn’t stop right away, easing her through it, tongue still flicking against her swollen clit while I slowed my thrusts inside her, feeling every spasm, every desperate squeeze. She trembled hard, chest heaving, tears beading at the corners of her eyes from the sheer intensity of it, and only when her body went limp against the sheet did I finally draw my fingers out, coated and dripping.

Her thighs fell open, twitching, and she lay panting, arm slipping away from her face at last. Her eyes were glazed, lips parted, skin glowing with a feverish flush.

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