Chapter 398: Night with Cleopatra *

Her plump lips moved with fervor, molding against mine with an urgency that bordered on desperation—but it was not weakness. It was intensity. Fire meeting fire. Her hands explored my chest now, palms flat against the firm line of muscle as if trying to memorize the shape of me, to imprint me upon her skin.

I cupped her cheek, the soft curve of her jaw warm beneath my palm, and deepened the kiss. Her scent enveloped me—jasmine, incense, sun-warmed linen and the faintest trace of myrrh. It was intoxicating. Divine.

Cleopatra’s nails curled into my shirt like claws sheathed in velvet, her grip trembling with a tension that lived halfway between resistance and surrender. Her lips, warm and impossibly soft, parted the moment mine met them, and my tongue slid into her mouth like silk threading through flame. She gasped faintly at the intrusion, her breath sweet with wine and spices, the taste of ancient temptation on her tongue.

I didn’t rush. I let her feel every glide, every press, every flicker of movement between our tongues as they tangled in the wet heat of our kiss. I wanted her to feel unraveled, slowly. Our mouths moved together like molten waves, and I caught her moan right in my throat as I sucked her tongue into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks and sealing my lips around her. I drank her in, tongue and spit and the small hitching sound she made that vibrated between our mouths.

“Mmhhnnn…” Her body stiffened and then melted at once, eyes fluttering half-shut as if something inside her just cracked open. The softest tears welled in the corners, not of pain—but of some overwhelming overload she had never tasted before. A queen, now trembling in the arms of something raw and new.

My hands were already there—cupping, kneading the swell of her ass, feeling the curve of it in each palm like sacred weight. She was firm, impossibly firm, yet her skin was silken, white caramel and golden under the moonlight seeping through the veils of her chamber. Her dress was in the way. Far too much fabric. My fingers slid along her spine, reaching the fine seam of her shoulder strap, slipping beneath, and then—ripppp—it gave. The fabric tore beneath my fingertips like papyrus under rain, sliding away to reveal the bare splendor of her flesh.

And gods—those breasts. Full, flawless, with a sheen of arousal beginning to glisten across her skin. Her nipples stood stiff and begging, the color of honey-dipped rosebuds, already peaked from the wet heat of our kiss. I descended slowly, trailing kisses like worship down her throat, then her chest, until my lips hovered a breath away from her breast.

She whimpered. Just that. No words. No commands. Just a breathy, trembling need.

I closed my lips around one nipple, suckling it like a starving man, drawing circles with my tongue across her areola, then lapping faster, harder. I suckled her like a child too hungry to be polite, lips dragging wetly back and forth, the room echoing with the slippery sounds of mouth on flesh. My hand cupped her other breast, squeezing, fingers teasing the tip, twisting it gently, coaxing soft gasps and twitching muscle.

“Haaan❤️… aaah❤️, gods…” Cleopatra’s fingers dove into my hair, tangling like vines, holding me to her breast. She arched her back into my mouth, legs pressing together beneath her sheer skirt, hips shifting helplessly.

I growled softly against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through her breast as I took her nipple between my teeth—gently, a tease—and then sucked it deeper, tongue fluttering fast around the tip. Her legs trembled.

“Y-yes❤️… suck it more… harder… ohhh—”

I didn’t relent. I switched breasts, leaving her skin glistening with saliva as I took the other nipple into my mouth, lavishing it with the same hunger. Her back was arched so far now that only her hips and shoulders touched the bed, her body bowed in pure pleasure.

My hand slid down, beneath the last layers of her clothing, until I found the wet heat hidden between her thighs. Even through her panties she was soaked, slick and hot and throbbing. I pressed my fingers against the fabric, slow and firm, rubbing circles against her clit until she moaned like a woman coming undone.

“Haaan❤️, ahhh, you’re… driving me mad…”

I slipped a finger beneath the fabric, and the moment my skin touched her bare slit, her hips bucked. She was drenched. I dragged one finger from the base of her slit all the way up to her clit, coating it in her juices. Then I leaned down, my mouth still glistening from her breasts, and whispered against her nipple, “You’re already mine.”

With my free hand I stripped the last of her clothes away, and her legs parted instinctively as the cool air kissed her wetness. I kneeled between her thighs, running my hands up and down the soft inner skin, watching her writhe under my gaze.

She was panting, lips parted, breasts heaving, pupils blown wide. A goddess unthroned.

I dipped my head down and kissed the inside of her thigh, then the other, slowly, kissing my way toward her glistening folds. Cleopatra shivered, hands fisting in the sheets, anticipation driving her mad.

When my tongue finally touched her clit, she cried out loud.

“Aaahhhhnnn❤️!”

I licked her softly at first, letting her feel every slow circle, every flick, tasting her, worshipping her. My hands held her thighs open, and I slid a finger inside her as my tongue began to move faster, matching the thrust of my hand.

She bucked. She moaned. Her voice grew high and desperate.

“Mmmhh❤️… gods, yes, yes, like that—don’t stop—”

I didn’t. I added a second finger, curling them inside her, tongue never leaving her clit. I lapped, sucked, moaned into her, my own arousal growing hard and urgent as her juices smeared across my lips. She thrashed on the bed, her body electric.

“Ahhhnn❤️, I—ah—haaah—I’m gonna—”

She came hard, her thighs clamping around my head, her hips bucking uncontrollably as her orgasm ripped through her like a storm. I didn’t stop. I kept licking, kept fingering, drawing her out until she was sobbing with release, her voice breaking into incoherent cries.

Only when she lay slack and trembling, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, did I rise, wiping her wetness from my chin with the back of my hand.

But we were only getting started.

I leaned over her, kissed her again—slow and deep—letting her taste herself on my tongue.

And then I pressed the tip of my cock against her slick entrance, and whispered, “I’m going to fuck my queen now.”

She looked up at me through half-lidded eyes, lips swollen, sweat beading her brow.

She said it—raw and regal—”Fuck me.”

And that was all it took. Her voice wasn’t a whisper, it was a command clothed in silk and desire, trembling on the edge of desperation. I grabbed her thighs and slammed forward, burying myself in her in one deep, wet, unforgiving thrust.

“HAAAaann!” she cried out, her nails digging into the bedding like she was holding onto the Earth itself.

Her pussy clamped around me, tighter than I remembered, soaked and velvet-slick, stretching to accommodate the full girth of my cock. The swollen lips of her sex, flushed and glistening, hugged every inch of me as I drove deeper still. It was the second time she’d taken me, and the first time I’d let go of restraint completely.

Whatever bruising the first penetration had left in her—the sweet ache of her torn virginity—it had only made her tighter, more sensitive, more desperate now. She bucked beneath me like her body remembered the breaking, and craved the shatter again.

I smirked.

And then I started pounding.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

My hips smacked into her ass again and again, the sound of flesh on flesh sharp and obscene in the quiet air of her chamber. I gripped her thighs, keeping her legs lifted, letting me slam into her deeper with every thrust. Cleopatra’s moans became animal.

“HAAN❤️! Haan❤️! Aahh—haaaan!”

Her breasts bounced wildly with the force of my rhythm, dark nipples stiff and glistening with sweat. I dropped one hand from her thigh and caught a breast mid-bounce, gripping and kneading the heavy mound, my fingers finding the nipple and twisting, pulling, pinching.

“S-soo rough—haaah❤️❤️—more! Gods, more!”

She begged. A queen, begging.

Her back arched under me, spine bowing beautifully, beads of sweat rolling down her skin. I leaned over her, not slowing, not even faltering, just hammering inside her while I brought my lips close to her ear, my breath ragged and burning with lust.

“You’re a filthy, greedy queen,” I whispered darkly. I gave her a brutal thrust to emphasize the point.

Her pussy clamped down hard, a ripple of orgasm starting in her core even before she could reply.

“Ahhnn❤️! Haaah❤️! F-fuck!”

I caught her mouth mid-cry, kissing her hard, tongue plunging deep, tasting her, claiming her. She moaned into my lips, muffled and twitching, as my dick continued to drive into her, rhythm never faltering.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

My tongue curled around hers, licking the roof of her mouth, demanding everything. I sucked on her lower lip before devouring her again, our lips mashed and slick, breath tangled.

Five minutes passed. Five minutes of relentless kissing, slamming, groping—until finally I pulled away from her mouth, leaving a string of spit connecting our lips. She gasped for air like she had surfaced from drowning.

“H-How good can you be… haaan…” Her amber eyes glazed, lashes clinging with tears and sweat.

I didn’t answer. I grabbed her arm and flipped her over, watching her bare back and ass roll into view like treasure uncovered from silk. Cleopatra dropped her head between her trembling arms, face flushed, hair tangled and wild, her breath coming in high, airy sobs.

Her ass was flushed, the cheeks quivering slightly from the last assault. I gripped her hips, pointed my cock at her swollen, sopping pussy from behind, and shoved forward.

“Haaannggh!”

She came the moment I entered her, her whole body jerking forward, pussy clenching like a vise around my cock as a fresh orgasm washed through her.

But I wasn’t finished. Not even close.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

Her cries echoed around the stone-walled quarters like the ghost of pleasure, like a prayer being ripped from the throat of a goddess. The bed rocked under us, the silk sheets tangled and damp beneath her. Her moans no longer sounded human. They were guttural, needy, feral.

“Uhnn—haaah—ahhh—more—fuck me—fuck me like that—!”

I grunted as I slammed into her again, and again, my fingers digging into her hips to hold her steady while I speared her from behind. The wet slap of my balls against her slick folds added a rhythm beneath the cries.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

After a long half an hour of building and fucking her from behind finally I felt unable to contain my release.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Inside,” Cleopatra gasped. “Inside me—do it—make me yours—”

That was it.

With one final thrust, I came—hard—deep inside her, hips jerking, body twitching as the flood of release burst inside her womb. She screamed again, another orgasm rolling through her in tandem, her pussy milking every drop out of me.

My dick throbbed, still buried deep as I collapsed against her back, both of us drenched in sweat, gasping for air, her pussy twitching around me.

“Haaan…again,” Cleopatra whispered, breathless before closing her eyes.