Chapter 199: A horny Queen
The belt came free with a soft metallic click. Moriele’s fingers were steady, almost leisurely, as she worked the leather open and tugged the dark fabric of Vince’s trousers down just far enough. His cock sprang free, thick and already flushed dark, the head glistening. She looked at it for a long moment, that wicked smile still playing on her lips, before her dark eyes lifted to meet his.
"Still trying to pretend you don’t want this?" she murmured. "Your body is so honest, First Custodian. So eager."
Vince’s breath hitched when she wrapped one elegant hand around the base and gave a slow, testing stroke. The contact sent a sharp jolt straight up his spine. He opened his mouth—whether to protest or to beg, he wasn’t sure—but the words never came. Moriele shifted lower, her silver hair cascading over his thighs as she settled between his legs. The sheer robe slid completely off her shoulders and pooled on the bed behind her, leaving her bare. The purple crown crest above her breasts glowed brighter, pulsing in time with the rapid beat of her heart.
She leaned in and dragged the flat of her tongue from the root all the way to the tip in one long, deliberate lick. Vince’s hips jerked involuntarily. A low, rough sound escaped his throat.
"Moriele—"
"Quiet," she said against the head of his cock, the word vibrating through him. "You spent four hours with my daughter. Now you will spend the rest of the night satisfying your Queen."
She took him into her mouth without further warning.
The heat was immediate and overwhelming. Soft, wet, and tight. Moriele didn’t tease this time. She sank down in one smooth motion until the head of his cock kissed the back of her throat, her tongue pressing firmly along the underside. Vince’s hands fisted in the velvet sheets. The sight of the High-Elf Queen—regal, ancient, powerful—with her lips stretched around him and her eyes half-lidded in concentration was almost too much.
She began to move.
Slow at first, then faster, her head bobbing with practiced, ruthless precision. Wet sounds filled the quiet chamber—soft, filthy, rhythmic. Saliva slicked his shaft and dripped down to his balls. Every time she took him deep, her throat fluttered around him; every time she pulled back, she swirled her tongue over the sensitive head and sucked hard enough to make his vision spark at the edges.
Vince’s control frayed rapidly. His hips tried to thrust upward, but her hands pinned his thighs to the mattress with surprising strength. She controlled the pace completely—deep, deep, then almost all the way off, only to plunge down again. The glowing crest on her chest cast purple light across her face and the sheen of spit on her lips.
"Fuck—Moriele—" he groaned, voice raw.
She hummed around him in answer, the vibration traveling straight to the base of his spine. One of her hands left his thigh to cup and roll his balls, squeezing gently in time with the bobbing of her head. The dual sensation made his stomach tighten. He could already feel the pressure building, sharp and inevitable.
Moriele felt it too. She pulled off with a wet pop, a thin string of saliva connecting her bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Her eyes were dark with triumph.
"Already close?" she asked, voice husky. "After everything you’ve done today? How flattering." She gave the head a slow, deliberate kiss, then licked the bead of precum that welled up. "But you’re not allowed to finish yet. Not until I’ve had my fill."
She rose onto her knees, straddling his hips again. The heat of her cunt brushed the underside of his cock as she ground against him once, twice, coating him in her slick. The purple crest pulsed harder. Vince could feel the overflow of divine energy still rolling off her in waves—hot, demanding, almost desperate.
"You forced so much power into me," she whispered, positioning him at her entrance. "Now you’re going to take some of it back... the way a Queen’s consort should."
She sank down in one continuous motion.
Vince’s head dropped back against the pillows with a broken sound. She was scorching, tight, and already clenching around him in rhythmic pulses. The stretch of her body taking every inch felt like being claimed from the inside out. Moriele’s hands braced on his chest as she bottomed out, her breath leaving her in a shaky exhale. For a moment she simply sat there, adjusting, the crest on her chest flaring bright enough to cast the entire bed in violet light.
Then she began to ride him.
There was nothing restrained about it. She lifted almost all the way off and slammed back down, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the chamber. Her silver hair whipped around her shoulders. Her breasts bounced with every impact. The purple crest glowed hotter with each roll of her hips, as if the very act of fucking him was feeding and stabilizing the energy inside her.
Vince’s hands found her waist, fingers digging into soft flesh. He tried to meet her thrusts, but she set a brutal, relentless pace that left him little room to do anything but take it. Every downward stroke dragged over the most sensitive parts of him. Every upward lift left him aching for more.
"Look at you," Moriele panted, eyes locked on his face. "The man who transcended mortality... reduced to this. Cock buried in your Queen, moaning like any other man." She leaned forward, bracing her hands on either side of his head so her hair curtained them again. The new angle let her grind her clit against his pelvis with every rock of her hips. "This is where you belong when the day is done. Under me. Inside me. Filling me until the burn stops."
Vince’s answer was a rough, helpless groan. He could already feel his orgasm gathering low in his gut, heavy and inevitable. The combination of her tight heat, the filthy words, the glowing crest, and the sheer dominance in every movement was pushing him toward the edge far too quickly.
Moriele felt the way his cock swelled inside her. She smiled, sharp and pleased, and deliberately clenched around him.
"Not yet," she ordered. "You come when I say. Not a second before."
She rode him harder, chasing her own pleasure with single-minded intensity. Her moans grew louder, less controlled. The wet sounds between them turned obscenely loud. Vince’s fingers left bruises on her hips as he held on, every muscle in his body locked tight against the rising wave.
When she finally came, it was with a sharp cry and a full-body shudder. Her cunt clamped down around him in powerful, rhythmic pulses. The purple crest flared so brightly it almost hurt to look at. Divine energy flooded outward in a warm, electric rush that sank into Vince’s skin and coiled low in his belly, amplifying every sensation until he thought he might break.
Only then did she lean down, lips brushing his ear.
"Now," she whispered. "Fill your Queen."
Vince shattered.
The orgasm ripped through him so hard his vision whited out. He thrust up into her as deep as he could go and spilled in thick, pulsing waves, flooding her with everything he had left. Moriele kept moving through it, milking every last drop, soft sounds of satisfaction leaving her throat as she felt him empty inside her.
When the last tremor finally faded, Vince collapsed back against the bed, chest heaving, completely spent. His limbs felt heavy, almost numb. The earlier exhaustion of the day combined with the intensity of the release left him trembling and light-headed.
Moriele stayed seated on him for a long moment, breathing hard, the crest on her chest finally settling into a softer, steadier glow. She leaned down and kissed him—slow, deep, and possessive—before lifting off with a soft, wet sound. Cum immediately began to leak from her, trailing down her inner thighs.
She looked down at the mess with open satisfaction, then crawled up the bed and settled beside him, one leg thrown possessively over his hip.
"That," she murmured against his throat, voice still rough, "was only the beginning. You still have hours of work left, First Custodian. Your Queen is far from finished claiming what is hers."
Vince could only manage a weak, exhausted sound. His cock gave a feeble twitch against his thigh, already trying to respond to the promise in her voice even as the rest of him screamed for rest.
Moriele smiled against his skin, dark and certain.
Outside the locked chamber, the night stretched on. Inside, the Queen of the High Elves had every intention of using every remaining hour until morning to make certain Vince never forgot exactly where he belonged when the doors closed.