Page 51 of Runaway Queen

“Don’t fuck around, Sofia.”

I pushed her knees wide. She wasn’t wearing panties, like instructed. It gave me a jolt of satisfaction to see how she obeyed me, even while fighting me. I could tangle with her the rest of my days and never get bored.

“Hold your knees and keep your legs open, or I’ll tie you down.”

I couldn’t wait to taste her again. After being deprived of her for so long, it was like a dam had burst. While I’d been denying my needs, punishing my body for my failure to protect her, and feeling guilty for sullying her memory by jerking off with her sweet perfection in my mind, she’d been alive and well, and lying to me. The taste I’d had so far had been over far too quickly. I needed weeks, maybe months, of licking her cunt, sinking inside her-no matter what she was doing-before the urgent need for her faded. It might never fade. Time would tell.

I leaned in and inhaled, filling my lungs with her sweet musky scent. “You’re still wet here. You need to learn how to dry yourself off better after your shower,” I mocked. “Should I teach you?”

She was leaning on her elbows, her neck bent sharply to watch me as I bit hard kisses and nips up her thighs. I wanted to bruise her. I wanted my love to leave a mark on her, like she’d marked me. I licked a long, wet stripe up her center.

“You need to dry inside and out,” I muttered against her skin before sticking my tongue inside her, a deep, no-holds-barred plunge that brought my nose to rub her clit. I tongue-fucked her like that, enjoying the flavor of her utter surrender and desire. She could try to lie to me, but I could taste her arousal. She still wanted me as much as I wanted her. Maybe she was a little unhinged, too, these days.

I moved lower, dragging my tongue to her ass. “Don’t forget to dry here, too. Everything needs to be nice and clean.”

I pressed my tongue against that soft pucker, and her hips jumped off the table. I put a hand on her belly and held it in place as I explored her with my tongue. There wasn’t any part of her I didn’t want to own. I wanted to rub my cum into every crevice, press my fingerprints into every inch, and make sure she never forgot who she belonged to again.

Just like my body could never forget hers.

I returned to her clit, just as I reached to the side and picked up one of the fancy knives I’d brought to the table. This one was spare. Her eyes widened when she saw it. It was herliccasapuni. Theparanza cortaknife with the long thin blade and wide, round handle. The first and only weapon she’d ever successfully cut me with.

“Open your mouth.” My voice was deep. My order undeniable.

Her chest was rising and falling faster and faster, but despite her fear, or maybe because of it, she complied. I trailed the blade up her body, turning it in my hand so I held the sharp end, and brushed the handle past her lips and into her mouth.

It filled it perfectly.

“Get it nice and wet for me, prom queen.” I fucked her mouth with the hilt for a few seconds, until her spit was dripping down the blade, too, then pulled it free.

She watched with rapt attention when I put it at her pussy.

It slipped easily inside. Gripping the blade tightly, I carefully pumped the hilt in and out of her. It was long, long enough to keep her perfect pussy far away from any sharp edges. Leaning in, I fastened my lips around her clit and laved it. She cried out, her hips bumping against my face.

She rose quickly. A woman on the edge. If she was being honest, my little swallow hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. Now, she’d never have the chance to be with anyone else again, other than me.

She burst in my mouth, a flood of pleasure. Her juices were sweet, like nectar. I fucked her with the knife hilt the entire time, until she was spent and sweating on the table.

Pulling the knife from her gently, I closed her legs and brought the hilt to her lips. Her eyes widened, and I thought for a second she might refuse. Then she opened her mouth, and I slid the handle inside.

“Clean up your things.”

Her cheeks flushed pink, but she complied, her eyes burning into mine.

“Good girl.”

Setting the knife aside, I clenched my fist. Warmth blossomed in my palm. I ignored it. What was a little cut compared to the thrill of touching this woman? There was no comparison. I undid my jeans and pushed them half down, unable to wait one more second to be inside her. Pulling her hips to the edge of the table, leaving a bloody handprint on her legs as I did, I pushed inside her. She groaned, biting her lip. The expression of her pleasure was addictive. I curled my bleeding hand around the back of her neck and pulled her face to mine, kissing her while pounding my hips against hers. The table scraped across the floor, loud and annoying, the glasses shaking with our efforts. I fucked her hard, and she met my every thrust with raised hips, bucking against me, panting and sweating. Looking simply glorious. She came first, pulling me close, her tight pussy clamping down on me harder than ever and milking my length.

I pulled out to come on her mound. Enjoying the sight of my release striping her thighs and pussy. Moving a hand to the cum on her cunt, I wet my fingers in it and then massaged it into her inner thighs and belly. She watched me without speaking. I wanted her to smell like me, and now she did.

After,I followed her upstairs to her room. She kept nervously glancing back at me, her teeth worrying her full bottom lip. Inside her room, she stood awkwardly, while I stripped off my clothes. Her gaze on my body was a turn-on.

“Still like looking at me, prom queen? You always did like to look.” I dropped my jeans and boxers and stepped out of them, tossing them onto a chair and turning to face her.

Her eyes dropped to my half-spent cock before she could catch herself. Cheeks turning pink, she turned away, folding her arms over her chest.

“What now?”

“Now, we go to bed. Isn’t that what happens at bedtime?

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