My Scumbag System - Chapter 246

Chapter 246: My Queen Claims Her Victory (And Plans The Next)
I grinned back, watching her flushed face. Sweat had plastered a few strands of purple hair to her forehead, and I brushed them away gently. “The night’s still young.”

The moonlight caught the sheen on her skin, making her look like she’d been dipped in silver. But I wasn’t about to question this gift from the gods. Some advantages of my new life were worth embracing without question.

Natalia noticed too, her eyes widening slightly as they trailed down my body. “Again? Already?” There was awe in her voice, and hunger, and something like pride—as though my body’s response was her accomplishment.

“What can I say? You inspire me.” I pulled her on top of me, positioning her over my length. Her thighs straddled my hips, strong and smooth beneath my hands. “Your turn to lead.”

She straddled me, taking me in her hand and guiding me to her entrance. With excruciating slowness, she sank down, taking me inch by inch until I was fully sheathed inside her. Her eyes fluttered closed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to keep from making noise. Her expression was transcendent—pain and pleasure and power all mingled together.

Once fully seated, she leaned forward, her breasts brushing against my chest, her lips at my ear. Her hair fell around us, creating a private sanctuary scented with sweat and sex and expensive shampoo. “This is mine,” she whispered, clenching around me for emphasis. “Don’t forget it.”

The possessiveness in her voice sent a shiver down my spine. In this moment, I was hers completely, willingly trapped in the cage of her body, her arms, her heart.

She started to move, rising up until I almost slipped out before sliding back down. Not the frantic pace of our usual encounters, but a slow, deliberate grind designed to maximize pleasure while minimizing sound. The mattress didn’t even creak. Each movement was a calculated dance, her hips rolling with the grace of a dancer, the authority of a queen claiming her throne.

I gripped her hips, helping guide her movements. Her purple hair fell around us like a curtain, creating a private world where only we existed. In the silver moonlight, she looked otherworldly—a goddess taking her pleasure, using me as her altar. The shadows played across her body, highlighting the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the tautness of her stomach as she moved.

She was never more beautiful than in these moments, when the practiced mask fell away and raw emotion took its place. No pretending, no performances. Just Natalia and Satori, stripped down to their basest desires. The queen and her chosen consort, locked in the oldest battle for dominance that always ended in mutual surrender.

“Mine,” I growled against her throat, leaving another mark. My hands roamed up her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. The weight of them filled my palms perfectly, as if she’d been crafted specifically for my touch.

She responded by increasing her pace slightly, grinding her clit against my pubic bone with each downstroke. Her breath came in short, silent pants, her eyes locked with mine—challenging, demanding, pleading. The connection between us was electric, a current that ran from her eyes to mine, from her body to my soul.

I felt her inner walls begin to flutter around me. She was close again. Her rhythm grew more erratic, her control slipping as pleasure built. I slid one hand between us, finding her clit and rubbing tight circles in time with her movements. The small bundle of nerves was swollen and sensitive, responding instantly to my touch.

The bed frame gave a soft creak as her rhythm faltered. Her eyes widened in alarm at the sound, the fear of discovery adding an edge to her pleasure.

“Shh,” I whispered, though it wasn’t her voice I was silencing. My hand moved from her hip to the small of her back, steadying her, guiding her into a rhythm that wouldn’t betray us to the thin walls of the dormitory.

Her movements grew more erratic as she chased her release. Sweat glistened on her skin, making her glow in the moonlight. Her muscles tensed, her thighs trembling against mine. Just as her body began to tense, she shoved her own fist into her mouth, biting down hard to muffle the cry that threatened to escape. Her inner walls clamped around me like a vise, pulsing and squeezing in waves that seemed to go on forever.

The sight of her—head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, body trembling as she bit her own hand to stay silent—pushed me over the edge. I grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise, holding her firmly against me as I spilled inside her, my own release a silent, full-body earthquake. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, each pulse drawing me deeper into her heat, her body, her soul.

She collapsed onto my chest, boneless and spent. Our hearts thundered against each other, gradually slowing to a normal rhythm. Sweat cooled on our skin, raising goosebumps in the night air. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, suddenly protective of this fierce, jealous queen who’d claimed me so thoroughly.

The silence of the dorm remained unbroken, save for our gradually slowing breaths. We’d won our dangerous game. Her hair tickled my chin, soft and slightly damp. I stroked it absently, another moment of tenderness that surprised us both.

After several minutes, Natalia lifted her head, a tired, satisfied smile playing on her lips. Her makeup was smudged, her hair a tangled mess, and marks from my mouth and hands were already beginning to bloom on her porcelain skin. She looked utterly debauched and completely victorious.

“See?” she whispered against my skin, her breath warm and intimate. “I can be quiet when I want to be.”

I chuckled, the sound vibrating through both our bodies. “That was the loudest silence I’ve ever heard.”

She laughed softly, the sound like music. The rare genuine laugh that few people ever heard from the ice queen of our school. Her finger traced patterns on my chest, writing invisible claims of ownership on my skin. “And next time…” she kissed me, slow and deep, the taste of both of us mingling on our tongues.

“I won’t be this quiet.”