My Scumbag System - Chapter 245

Chapter 245: Whoever Makes a Sound Loses The War
She reached down, grabbing my wrist. Her nails dug half-moons into my skin, a silent warning. “Enough talking.” Her voice shook with need, with anger, with something deeper that neither of us was ready to name. “Show me I’m still your queen.”

I pulled her panties aside and slid one finger through her folds, finding her slick and ready. The wet sound seemed obscenely loud in the quiet room, a betrayal of her body’s secrets. When I brushed against her clit, her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of anything I was willing to give.

“Careful now,” I warned, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with maddening slowness. “Too loud and I’ll have to stop. We wouldn’t want to wake our dear neighbor, would we?”

Her hands fisted in the sheets, knuckles turning white with strain. A vein pulsed in her neck as she fought to control her breathing, her body, her very reactions to my touch. I added a second finger, pushing inside her with agonizing slowness while keeping my thumb on her clit. Her inner walls clenched around me, hot and tight, drawing me deeper.

“God,” she breathed, so quietly I barely heard it, the word more felt than heard against my skin.

I pumped my fingers slowly, curling them to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. The silken heat of her enveloped my fingers, drawing them in, reluctant to let go. Her breathing grew ragged, chest rising and falling rapidly. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on her brow, making her skin glow in the moonlight. She was close already—the jealousy, the anger, the game of it all had her wound tight like a spring about to snap.

Just as she teetered on the edge, I stopped.

Her eyes flew open, murderous. The purple of her irises was almost completely swallowed by black, blown wide with desire and rage. “Don’t you dare—”

I placed a finger over her lips. The same finger that had just been inside her, letting her taste herself. “Too loud.”

She bit down on my finger, hard. I hissed in pain but didn’t pull away. The small act of defiance was so quintessentially Natalia—even at her most vulnerable, she found ways to remind me of her power.

“I hate you,” she mouthed silently, her chest heaving with exertion.

“No, you don’t.” I smiled, removing my shirt in one fluid motion. Her eyes darkened at the sight of my chest, her anger momentarily forgotten as hunger took its place.

I wasn’t the pudgy, weak Satori anymore. All that training, enhanced by Nel’s System, had transformed me. Lean muscle where fat had been. Definition where there was once only softness. Shoulders broader, waist narrower, arms corded with strength that could now pin her exactly where I wanted her.

Natalia reached out, running her fingers over my stomach, tracing the lines of my abs. Her touch was reverent, almost worshipful. “At least one good thing came from all that training,” she whispered, a grudging compliment that meant more than any outright praise.

I kicked off my sweats, now fully naked. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of me, hard and ready. A hunger that matched my own flashed across her face, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Before I could take control again, she grabbed my shoulders and pushed me onto my back. In one smooth motion, she straddled my chest, facing away from me. The curve of her back, the smooth expanse of her spine leading down to the perfect roundness of her ass, was a work of art in the moonlight.

“New game,” she said, looking over her shoulder with wicked intent, her hair cascading down her back like a purple waterfall. “Whoever makes a sound loses.”

She lowered herself down my body until her core hovered over my face, her own mouth dangerously close to my hardness. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, a heady perfume that made my mouth water.

“Fair warning,” she breathed, her exhale warm against my most sensitive skin, “I play to win.”

Without waiting for a response, she took me into her mouth. The wet heat nearly undid me then and there. Warm, tight, perfect—feeling her tongue swirl around me while watching her perfect ass hovering above my face was almost too much. I bit back a groan, refusing to give her the satisfaction of breaking first.

Two could play at this game.

I grabbed her hips, pulling her down to my face. My tongue found her center, tasting her arousal. She was honey-sweet and salt-tangy, a flavor uniquely Natalia that I’d grown addicted to. I licked a broad stripe from her entrance to her clit, feeling her thighs tremble on either side of my head. Against my tongue, I could feel her pulse, the racing heartbeat of a queen trying desperately to maintain her composure.

A vibration traveled through her throat as she suppressed a moan, the sensation sending shockwaves through my cock still enveloped in her mouth. Her fingernails dug into my thighs, leaving crescent moons in their wake—small pain that only heightened the pleasure.

We settled into a rhythm, a silent symphony of pleasure. Her mouth moved up and down my length, tongue swirling around the head, while I devoured her like a man starving. Every time she’d edge close to climax, I’d switch tactics—sucking her clit, then licking broad strokes, then pushing my tongue inside her. Keeping her on the knife’s edge, dangling between agony and ecstasy.

She retaliated by taking me deeper, relaxing her throat until I hit the back of it. The struggle to stay silent became physically painful. My hands gripped her ass harder, leaving marks that would bloom purple by morning—my royal seal on her perfect skin.

The room filled with wet sounds and suppressed breathing. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air, musky and intoxicating. Sweat beaded on our skin despite the cool night air coming through the cracked window, little diamonds catching the moonlight.

I felt her legs begin to shake—the telltale sign she was close. Her thighs tensed around my head, her rhythm faltering as pleasure overwhelmed her. I doubled my efforts, focusing entirely on her clit with firm, circular movements of my tongue. Her back arched like a bow, tension visible in every line of her body.

Just as she tipped over the edge, she took me so deep I saw stars. Her body convulsed, thighs clamping around my head as she came silently, her mouth still full of me. The vibrations of her suppressed moans sent me hurtling after her, and I emptied myself down her throat in hot pulses.

She swallowed everything, not letting a drop spill—both for pleasure and practicality. No evidence. My queen was always thinking, always planning, even in the throes of passion.

For several heartbeats, we remained frozen in our positions, panting softly, bodies still connected. Then Natalia rolled off me, collapsing on the bed beside me, her chest heaving. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen, her skin flushed and marked with the evidence of our passion. She’d never looked more beautiful.

“Round one,” she gasped quietly, a victorious smile playing on her lips.

“No sounds.”