CARNAL

II

Under the spell of Aphrodite's unseen lure, the young man drifted towards an intimate alcove as if beckoned by fate—her planned venue for entrapment. With stealth akin to a shadow, Aphrodite followed, weaving between gazes and ensuring their seclusion remained intact.

The door shut behind them like a secret sealed with a whisper, and there stood Aphrodite—her existence now woven into his own. The youth greeted her sudden emergence not with alarm but with an innocent smile brimming with charisma.

Every nuance of their private sanctuary seemed an accomplice to Aphrodite's desire: the low murmur of roses melding with the air; candlelight casting intimacy across tables graced with blood-red blooms; velvety drapes permitting but a sliver of lunar glow.

From the moment Aphrodite entered the room, her presence commanded attention. With a graceful glide across the floor, the sheen of her ebony gown caressed her form like fluid shadows. The man was spellbound, completely enraptured by the mysterious allure she exuded. She leaned in with intentional closeness, her breath a sinister symphony against his ear.

"You seem to be under quite some strain," she cooed softly.

Her fingertips danced across his arm with an artist's touch, weaving him into her web with every deliberate stroke. The ambiance thickened; each inhale charged with electric anticipation. Helplessly ensnared by this enticing demoness, he completely forgot the outer chaos that raged beyond their isolated cosmos.

With a tender brush of his cheek, Aphrodite captured his lips in a delicate onslaught. His suppressed groans broke through amid their fervent embrace, blind to the perilous fate that began to engulf him. She retreated slightly, eyes ensnaring him with an ominous promise of no escape once he had succumbed to her realm.

In the dwindling light of dying candles and encroaching darkness, the true terror of Aphrodite's plot revealed itself. Terror flickered in the young man's gaze as he realized his role as her select sacrifice. Resistance or mercy pleas only heightened her twisted thirst.

As night progressed beyond their secluded space, Aphrodite relentlessly pursued her quarry. The break of dawn threaded silver light through curtain seams, casting a glow on yet another soul ensnared by Mijako's demonic enchantress - another conquest in her relentless saga of power and ruin.

She circled her arms around the young man's neck and pulled him into an ardent kiss that set their world ablaze with passion. Their kiss was an abyss of ecstasy, perfumed with roses and sweet as nectar.

Enthralled by her intoxicating allure, a young man found himself enveloped in the arms of Aphrodite. They surrendered to their passions atop the plush bed, discarding their clothes in a feverish haste. Time itself seemed to halt as they wrapped themselves in each other's bare skin, dancing to the ancient rhythm of carnal longing.

Aphrodite let herself be swallowed by the wildfire of desire, never stopping to ponder the heartache that might befall her human lover. Instead, she delighted in pulling him deeper into her shadowy realm, entangling him further in her ruthless grip.

At the zenith of their fervent union, the young man's voice tore through the silence in sheer bliss, wholly captivated by the succubus's otherworldly allure and her mastery of pleasure bordering on pain.

But ecstasy soon gave way to torment. With a sudden twist, Aphrodite's delicate fingers transformed into lethal weapons, effortlessly sinking into his chest. Her expression warped from fiery lust to a chilling smirk.

The young man's feeble attempts to escape were futile against Aphrodite's overpowering force. The succubus relentlessly sought his beating heart with chilling precision and bloodthirsty glee; her hands tore it from his body. His life seeped away amidst a grotesque shower of blood that painted them both.