Chapter 142: Not Just Fucking, Making Love [3] [R18]

The combined onslaught of her relentless, grinding hips, the pulsing electric hum of her aether, and the suffocating tightness of her inner walls drove Azriel beyond the razor’s edge.

Veins stood out stark against his forearms as his fingers bit brutally into the yielding globes of her ass, anchoring her down for one final, devastating impact.

With a low, ragged snarl that vibrated deep within his chest, Azriel arched up into her.

His control shattered completely.

Deep inside her drenched, spasming channel, his cock throbbed violently, unleashing a thick, searing torrent that painted her womb in wave after scalding wave.

Rosalind felt the blistering flood hit her deepest core.

A triumphant, feral smile parted her swollen lips, her eyes rolling back into a daze of supreme fulfillment.

"Yes... paint my insides white, baby... fill me completely," she groaned, her voice melting into a high, keening whimper as the scalding heat triggered her own climax.

Her pussy contracted around him in ferocious, milking spasms, clamping down like a vice to trap every drop of his release.

A blinding shudder ripped through her frame, and with a final, broken cry, the Duchess collapsed forward, her trembling body falling limp across his chest.

Her face buried into the crook of his neck, her breath hitching in wet, ragged gasps as the violent aftershocks subsided.

For several long, silent minutes, neither moved.

The only sound in the dimly lit chamber was the frantic, echoing double-beat of their racing hearts, gradually slowing under the cool hum of the hovering mana crystals.

Finally, Rosalind stirred.

Shifting her weight with a feline grace that was both languid and slightly exhausted, she placed her palms on his chest and slowly lifted her hips.

The wet, suctioning slide of his softening shaft slipping free from her drenched entrance tore a soft sigh from her lips.

A thick, milky blend of his release and her own essence spilled out, trailing down the junction of her thighs and glistening over his swollen cock.

Instead of pulling away to clean herself, Rosalind slipped off him, sinking onto her knees between his spread thighs.

Her golden slit-pupils fixed onto his heavy, glistening length.

Without the slightest hesitation, the proud Duchess leaned forward, her white hair spilling across his abdomen like liquid moonlight.

Parting her lips, she pressed the flat of her pink tongue against the base of his shaft, dragging it slowly upward over the sensitive ridge, savoring the musky, pungent taste of their combined release as if partaking in the finest imperial vintage.

She licked him clean with meticulous, reverent care, kissing the weeping head with a soft, smacking sound before looking up through her long silver lashes.

"All clean, Azriel," she whispered, a sultry, breathless flush dusting her cheeks.

Azriel looked down at the breathtaking sight, his chest rising and falling slowly.

His hand reached out, his calloused fingers gently stroking through her soft, white hair, his palm resting against the crown of her head in a tender, fond pat.

"Good girl."

A brilliant, deep crimson bloomed instantly across her pale skin, reaching all the way to the tips of her silver ears.

To be praised like that, treated not as an untouchable sovereign of the province, but as his cherished, obedient woman, sent an electric thrill straight to her core.

Her eyes flared with renewed, predatory hunger.

Turning smoothly, Rosalind rose onto all fours on the crushed silk sheets, presenting the full, plush contour of her rounded hips to him.

She arched her back deeply, pressing her chest against the mattress to tilt her wet, swollen entrance right toward his gaze.

Her fluffy white tail swayed teasingly from side to side, brushing against his calves in an undeniable, blatant invitation.

Looking back over her shoulder, her golden eyes burned with an intoxicating mix of wanton submission and unyielding demand.

"Now come, baby," she purred, her voice dripping with heat as she gave her ass a slow, deliberate roll.

"Give me my reward. Take me from behind... fuck me deep, and show me how much you love me."

Azriel didn’t keep her waiting.

The sight of the Duchess kneeling on all fours, her back arched until the graceful curve of her spine formed an exquisite hollow, wiped away the lingering exhaustion of the previous round.

His cock, already re-hardening under her ministrations, pulsed with violent vigor, dark veins standing out thick along the shaft.

He rose onto his knees behind her, the heavy warmth of his frame casting a broad shadow over her pale, trembling back.

His broad palms clamped down on the generous flare of her hips, fingers digging into the soft, plush globes with bruising possessiveness.

Rosalind let out a breathless, anticipatory purr, her silver tail flicking eagerly against his thigh.

"Don’t hold back, Azriel," she pleaded softly over her shoulder, her golden slit-pupils wide with feverish hunger.

"Give it all to me."

Azriel lined the broad head of his cock against her drenched entrance.

Without another second of hesitation, he snapped his hips forward, burying himself completely to the root in a single, devastating thrust.

Pah!

The sharp crack of flesh against flesh resonated through the quiet bedchamber.

"Aaaah—! Haah!"

Rosalind’s head snapped backward, her white hair cascading down her shoulders as her mouth opened in an exquisite, ringing cry.

Her chest flattened against the crushed silk mattress, fingers gripping the sheets into tight fists as his full length bottomed out deep within her core.

The angle of entry was steep, ruthless, pressing directly against her most sensitive internal walls.

"You asked for it, Rose," Azriel growled into the back of her neck, leaning down until his broad, sweating chest pressed flush against her bare back.

He pulled back until only the tip remained caught in her tight, quivering entrance, and then drove forward again with relentless, piston like precision.

Pah! Pah! Pah!

The impacts came heavy, fast, and unyielding.

Azriel gripped her waist with iron strength, dictating the tempo and refusing to let her slide forward on the slick sheets.

Every forward thrust lifted her hips slightly, driving his cock deeper than before, grinding his pubic bone against the swollen, dripping bundle of nerves between her thighs.

The bed frame groaned in rhythmic protest against the marble walls, matching the wet, frantic cadence that filled the room.

[LIVE CHAT]

[Sadistic69] (Red): DOGGYSTYLE ON THE CANOPY BED! AHAHAHA! THE DUCHESS IS ARCHED AND TAKING EVERY SINGLE INCH!

[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): The way he took her hips and slammed in without a single second of hesitation...

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): Look at how deep he’s bottoming out... she can’t even form words anymore, just pure moans! Fuck her into the mattress, Azriel!

[God_Slayer_Klara] (Red): That tail wrap! Even from behind, she’s trying to lock onto him. Feral instincts fully unlocked.

[Crimson_Fury] (White): Ohhh.. goddess... what the hell is happening.... first domination and now submission.... just dominate that bastard!

"Az—! Ahh... you’re... hitting so deep... haah!" Rosalind cried out, her voice fractured and thoroughly wrecked.

Her ears twitched erratically as the overwhelming friction bypassed her rational mind entirely.

Her hips bucked backward instinctively, meeting each of his brutal drives halfway, desperate to pull every fraction of his size deeper into her heat.

Azriel slid one hand from her hip up to her slender throat, his fingers curling lightly around the front of her neck, not choking, but pinning her in place with absolute authority.

His other hand reached beneath her chest, cupping the heavy, swaying swell of her breast and squeezing the soft flesh in rhythm with his thrusts.

"You said you’re my number one," Azriel rasped against the base of her ear, his breath hot and ragged as he picked up the pace, each slam of his pelvis striking like a hammer.

"So take every bit of it."

"I am... ahh!... I’m yours... Azriel!" she sobbed out, her eyes rolling back as the familiar, unbearable coil of a second climax tightened violently in her lower belly.

The Ring of the Moonlit Dawn on her trembling hand pulsed with a brilliant, steady violet blaze, its resonance humming through the air like an electric chord.

Rosalind’s inner walls contracted in violent, milking spasms, locking around his shaft with an unrelenting, desperate grip that tore through Azriel’s remaining control.

A guttural, predatory roar ripped from deep in his chest as he slammed his pelvis flush against her plush rear, burying himself to the absolute root.

His broad frame seized, rigid as iron, as a thick, scalding torrent of his seed erupted deep against her womb, pumping into her in heavy, rhythmic surges.

Rosalind keened into the ruined silk of the sheets, her fingers clawing into the mattress, her entire body quivering like a struck bell as she drank in the blistering heat.

Before the tremors of her release could even subside, Azriel grabbed her by the hips and turned her over onto her back ruthlessly.

His cock remained slickly sheathed within her drenched core, not slipping free for even a fraction of a second.

Rosalind gasped, blinking through a daze of golden eyed euphoria, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Az, wait—"