Chapter 119: Good Girl Vesperia [R18]
Azriel gripped the base and slapped the heavy meat onto her outstretched tongue, then across both cheeks, leaving wet, sticky trails.
"You want this fat cock down your throat?" he taunted, slapping it against her tongue again.
"The same one that wrecked your daughter’s pussy?"
"Yes," she whispered.
He slapped harder.
"What?"
"Yesss."
Another wet smack.
"What?"
"Yesssssssssss!"
[LIVE CHAT]
[Sadistic69] (Red): FUCK! THE SMACKS ARE SO SEXY!! HE IS TOTALLY BLANKED OUT
[Battle_Maiden_Vera] (White): Hahahaha, he is. If he were in his right mind, he would have never done this.
[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): I cannot breathe! The absolute dominance! Take every single karma point I have!!!
[Moon_Priestess_99] (Cyan): His dick so thick... my mouth is watering....
[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): I want to see how my boy would react when he comes to his mind....
[Nine_Tailed_Vixen has sent a gift: ’Chariot of Dawn’ (Value: 500 KP)]
[Sadistic69 has sent a gift: ’Pegasus Feather’ (Value: 100 KP)]
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Azriel seized her head with both hands, his fingers threading through the thick white-streaked fur of her ears, and drove his cock straight into her throat in one brutal, unannounced thrust.
Glk.
Vesperia’s throat convulsed around the thick intrusion, her body’s reflex firing before her mind could override it.
Tears sprang to her golden eyes immediately, purely reflexive, the kind that came not from pain but from sheer, overwhelming fullness.
Her hands, which had been braced against his thighs, went rigid.
She could have resisted.
That was the truth she held quietly in the back of her mind even as her throat worked frantically around him.
She was an Overlord.
She had cultivation deep enough to regulate her own body’s responses at the cellular level.
She could have breathed easily, could have relaxed every muscle and made this effortless.
She chose not to.
Because she remembered what she had seen through that doorway.
She remembered her daughter’s face, tear-streaked and ecstatic, remembered the specific sounds Rosalind had made when he had done exactly this to her, the wet, desperate sounds that had kept Vesperia awake long after she had forced herself to step away from the door.
She had wanted to understand what it felt like to be so completely overwhelmed that nothing else existed.
Now she was finding out.
Glk. Glk.
She forced herself to hold still, to receive it, her throat working in rhythmic, involuntary pulses around his girth.
The tears tracked slowly down her cheeks.
Her tail, usually an elegant, controlled extension of her composure, had gone completely rigid behind her.
Azriel held himself there, buried to the absolute hilt, her nose pressed against the hard plane of his lower abdomen, and she felt the slight shift of his weight as he looked down at her.
His hands moved.
With a gentleness that was almost more devastating than the brutality that had preceded it, his thumbs swept across her cheekbones, brushing the tears from her flushed skin.
"Good girl," he said quietly.
The words landed somewhere deep and undefended.
Mmm.
The moan that vibrated up from Vesperia’s throat was entirely involuntary, humming directly against his cock.
He gave her one more moment.
Just one.
His thumb traced the line of her jaw, almost tender, the contrast between the gentleness of his hands and the fullness of her stuffed throat so extreme it made her eyes flutter.
Then he pulled back.
Shlick.
And drove forward again.
Glk.
He set a rhythm, deep and relentless and exactly as merciless as she had wanted it to be, his hips rolling forward with a controlled, driving force that pushed his cock into her throat on every stroke.
His hands tightened in her hair, not steering so much as anchoring, giving her something to feel at the edges of the overwhelming sensation at her centre.
Shlick. Glk. Shlick. Glk.
Vesperia had stopped trying to maintain composure.
There was no composure left to maintain.
Her golden eyes had gone hazy, the irises barely visible beneath blown, darkened pupils, tears streaming freely now in thin, continuous rivulets that she had entirely stopped caring about.
Her hands gripped his thighs with the reflexive desperation of someone who has decided that holding on is the only available option.
Glk. Glk. Slurp.
The sounds filling the clearing were obscene and wet and completely beyond her ability to moderate, and somewhere beneath the roaring fullness of sensation she recognised, with the last functional fragment of her analytical mind, that this was exactly what she had wanted.
To be somewhere that her title and her century of authority and her careful, perfected self-possession could not follow her.
"Look up," Azriel said, his voice rougher now, the edges of his control beginning to fray.
Shlick. Glk.
She obeyed.
She tipped her tear-wet face upward and met his violet eyes, and whatever he saw in hers made his jaw tighten, made his rhythm lose one beat of its measured precision before he found it again.
Glk. Glk. Slurp.
"Good," he said, low and hoarse. "Stay there."
Shlick. Shlick. Glk.
His pace built, deeper, less measured, the controlled rhythm beginning to dissolve into something more urgent.
His hands tightened in her hair and she felt the shift in his breathing above her, the slight change in the quality of his control that told her they were approaching something.
"Don’t waste any of it," he said, the words barely above a breath.
Then the flood came.
Vesperia swallowed the instant the first wave hit, reflex and obedience and something that felt, in the heated chaos of the moment, remarkably like devotion.
Gulp.
The second surge followed before she had finished with the first.
Gulp.
His thumb stroked her cheek again as he emptied into her, that same devastating gentleness, and Vesperia felt the contrast of it move through her like a second wave entirely separate from the physical one, the iron grip and the soft touch existing simultaneously, and something about the combination undid her far more thoroughly than either alone could have managed.
-x-
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