Page 45 of Midnight Queen

“You think you can slap me and get away with it, Quincey?” I narrow my eyes at her when she gapes at me over her shoulder. “You must have forgotten who the fuck I am if you thought that would go unreprimanded.” My fingers trace lightly over the pretty red handprint forming on her flesh, but just as she starts to relax, I spank her again. Harder.

She makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a cry. “Now we’re even,” she pants.

“No, baby, we’re not,” I growl, bending down to sink my teeth into the round globe of her ass. She yelps and tries to twist away, but I hold her in place.

I don't bite hard enough to break the skin, despite how my gums burn and my fangs threaten to make an appearance. Besides her pussy, her blood may be the best thing I’ve ever savored. Depriving myself of tasting it goes against everything the monster inside me knows.

“You went to a club and allowed vile human men to touch you. To touch whatbelongsto me. I can stillsmellthem on you.” Backing away from the bed, I kick off my shoes and begin to unbutton my shirt. “I’m going to fuck you until all I can smell is myself on your skin.”

My clothes join her discarded ones on the floor in an unorganized heap. Her heavy eyes watch me over her shoulder as my fingers work on undoing my belt. They widen when my slacks and briefs fall down my legs and my throbbing cock is finally free.

“Get on your knees for your king, Quincey.”

Rolling back into a sitting position, she lazily scoots off the bed. She drops to the floor in front of me without complaint. In every aspect of our lives, Quincey enjoys challenging me, but when she’s naked and needy for my touch, she becomes pliant—listening keenly to my every word.

Her pink tongue swipes across her bottom lip and her eyes are glued to where my hand strokes my cock in slow, methodical movements. “Have you ever finger fucked yourself while you thought of me, Quincey?”

Caught off guard, her head jerks up and she looks at me. “W-what?”

“I didn’t stutter.” My grip tightens on my length, making the muscles in my lower abdomen tighten. “But you don’t have to answer because I already know the truth. I heard you.” The night I stood outside her door listening to her was the night my resolve began to crack. “While you imagined it was me touching that tight cunt of yours, I stood outside the door, and listened to you cry my name as you came on your fingers.”

“I thought I heard something outside my door. That was you?” A gorgeous blush forms on her cheekbones and she shifts restlessly where she kneels.

Smirking, I watch her hips flex. “Does the knowledge that I listened to you that night make you wet?”

She nods her head in answer.

“Want to know a secret about that night? While I listened to you moan and writhe with images of me running through your pretty head, I fisted my cock just like this,” I tell her, bringing her attention back down to my dick. “And while I did that, I imagined it was your hand on me, bringing me to my release.” She breathes heavier, her bare chest heaving, and her hands flex at her sides like she’s trying to restrain herself from touching me. “But I don’t have to imagine what that’s like anymore. Do I?”

“No,” she whispers hoarsely.

“No,” I repeat in a praising tone. “I have the real thing now.” Taking a step closer, my cock is only millimeters from her face. “Remind me how much better the real thing is than my fantasies.” I tap her plump bottom lip with the red, angry head. “Open.”

Her hot breath ghosts over my sensitive skin, making me shiver as she parts her lips for me. When her mouth wraps around the tip, I have to clench my teeth and grip the wood post of the bed to steady myself.

Blue eyes clash with mine when her tongue circles me, lapping eagerly at the precum that had started to form. “That’s it,” I hiss my encouragement.

Quincey brings me in deeper and her small hand wraps around the base. Delving my hand into her golden hair, I take control of her head and help her set a rhythm I enjoy. “I’m going to fuck your mouth and while I do, I want you to touch yourself, just like you did that night.”

She doesn’t hesitate a second before her free hand dips between her thighs. Her fingers sink inside of her and at the same time, she releases a groan around my cock, forcing me to let out a pained breath.

My grip on the bedpost tightens, my knuckles turning white. I half expect the wood to splinter under my touch. I would buy a hundred new bed frames and break each one of them if it meant I got to experience the ecstasy of Quincey’s hot mouth.

Her head pulls back, and she sucks in a lungful of air.

She trails wet kisses down my shaft and on her way back to the crown, her tongue teases me.

I jerk in her hand as the tip of her tongue flicks against the sensitive underside.

“Do you like when I’m on my knees for you?” she questions lowly, lips wrapping back around my cock. Her hips flex and she grinds into the heel of her palm. “Shit,” she moans, releasing me with a gasp.

“Are you close?” I ask. The pace we’d set vanishes and our movements become more erratic. Her head nods in jerky movements, but I halt them by tightening my hold on her hair. I press my cock to her lips, forcing myself back inside her mouth. “Suck me, and I’ll give you permission to come. You’re not allowed to come until I tell you so. This is your punishment for letting those fucks touch what’s mine.”

“I can’t, I’m so close.”

“You can and you fucking will.”

Without warning, I push in deeper than before, nudging the back of her throat. She gags, and her hand releases me to grab hold of my thigh. Her nails dig into my skin, making my skin shiver as pleasure builds inside of me.

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