His True Queen - Blog Posts

He gets to his knees, reaching back to push his shoes off and get his trousers and boxers past his feet. Then he rips off my knickers.

“Bra,” he says urgently, reaching under my back as I arch. One flick has the clasp undone, and one yank has if off and on the floor with the rest of our clothes. “Let’s call that foreplay,” he declares, taking his arousal and guiding it to between my thighs. “Does my queen object?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” He sinks in smoothly on a ragged exhale, right to the root. “Oh . . . yeah.”

I sigh, and he settles, hands braced above my head on the arm of the couch. “I’m just gonna stay here for a few moments, so you know.” He kisses my cheek, the swell of him inside me sparking spasms in my muscles, making me clench. “Stop it,” Josh warns.

“I can’t help it.”

“Adeline, I’ll come.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, your pussy is squeezing my dick. Stop it.” He looks at me, his jaw tight as he fights to find control.

I flex my hips, encouraged by the surges of pleasure pulsing throughout me. “I have no control with you.”

“God damn you, woman.” His groin rolls, meeting my flex, taking his depth to its fullest.

His True Queen by Jodi Ellen Malpas