Page 163 of Knot Their Fated M.U.S.E

"That's it," Sable groans with rough approval that sends pride coursing through me alongside mounting arousal. "Keep sucking with that dirty mouth of yours."

His words carry perfect balance of praise and degradation that makes my pussy clench around Riot's invading tongue.

Something about being acknowledged for skill while simultaneously being reduced to base function appeals to instincts I'm still discovering. The contradiction creates cognitive dissonance that somehow intensifies physical sensation rather than diminishing focus.

I moan around his cock as the combination of praise and crude assessment sends fresh heat pooling in my abdomen.

The vibration of my vocalization draws an immediate response—his hips jerking slightly with involuntary reaction despite judicial attempts at controlled participation. His breathing grows more labored as my technique improves through practice and feedback.

That's when Riot's hand connects with my ass in sharp slap that sends pain and pleasure cascading through interconnected sensations.

The impact creates a perfect counterpoint to his gentle tongue work—contrast that intensifies both sensations through comparison and tactical variation. My pause in oral technique earns immediate correction through the physical reminder of multitasking requirements.

The sting radiates across my skin with warmth that somehow enhances rather than detracts from mounting arousal.

Pain transforms into pleasure through that I don't fully understand, nerve endings interpreting impact as stimulation rather than threat. The heat spreads across my skin like liquid fire while his tongue resumes its devastating exploration with renewed intensity.

"Don't you dare stop," Riot's voice carries a muffled command against my folds, breath creating additional sensation that makes my thighs tremble with barely controlled restraint. "Keep working on his cock while I devour this sweet pussy."

His crude language sends electricity racing through nerve endings already hypersensitive from dual stimulation.

The way he claims ownership of my body through possessive description creates belonging that transcends simple physical contact. Not just sexual engagement, but territorial marking through verbal dominance and possession.

I resume movement along Sable's length with renewed enthusiasm despite the overwhelming sensation building between my legs.

My lips stretch around his considerable girth while throat muscles accommodate impressive depth that challenges normal anatomy. Each stroke creates friction designed to build pleasure while maintaining sustainability for extended performance.

Riot's hands massage my ass cheeks with surprising gentleness that contrasts beautifully with his aggressive oral technique.

Large palms knead sensitized flesh while thumbs trace patterns that speak to appreciation rather than simple positioning. The tender contact provides a grounding sensation amid overwhelming stimulation—an anchor point that prevents complete sensory overload.

His tongue continues its relentless exploration with precision that suggests comprehensive anatomical knowledge.

Each thrust penetrates deeper while his lips create suction that draws soft tissue into an optimal position for maximum nerve stimulation. The technique transcends random exploration to encompass pleasure delivery designed to build toward inevitable climax.

My body begins trembling with intensity that speaks to approaching a heightened threshold.

Muscles clench involuntarily as pleasure builds beyond comfortable parameters, each pass of Riot's tongue bringing me closer to the edge that promises comprehensive satisfaction. The pressure coils in my abdomen with growing urgency that demands immediate release.

Desperation bleeds into my movements as the need for climax threatens to overwhelm tactical consideration.

My pace along Sable's shaft increases beyond sustainable parameters, technique sacrificed for speed as imperative overrides conscious control. The approaching orgasm makes concentration nearly impossible despite the understanding of multitasking requirements.

That's when Sable's hands thread through my hair with sudden authority that stills my movement with judicial precision.

His fingers tangle in magenta and teal strands before gripping with pressure that borders on painful yet somehow intensifies arousal rather than creating genuine discomfort. The grip provides control that overrides my increasingly frantic rhythm.

"You can't cum until I do," he states with authority that acknowledges my obvious desperation while establishing clear behavioral parameters. "I want to watch Riot slurp every bit of your release."

The command hits with devastating force that makes my pussy clench around Riot's tongue with involuntary response.

Delayed gratification transformed into exquisite torture through judicial oversight and control. The promise of eventual satisfaction somehow intensifies current sensation while creating anticipation that transcends simple physical pleasure.

My whimper of protest emerges muffled but unmistakable around his considerable length.

The sound carries genuine distress at denied release despite intellectual understanding of his reasoning and tactical advantage. Rooted imperative wars with judicial authority in conflict create an additional layer of psychological stimulation.

Rather than acknowledging my protest, Sable presses my head further down his shaft with controlled pressure that eliminates the remaining distance.

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