Transmigrated Into A Women Dominated World

Her bare knees gripped his outer legs. The shift brought her core against the front of his trousers, the heat of her soaking straight through the fabric.

Zaeryn didn’t pull his hand away. He kept his fingers inside her, adjusting the angle now that she was seated, using his thumb to keep a constant, heavy pressure on her clit.

With his free hand he reached up and took both of her breasts, one after the other, cupping their full weight. His palms pressed upward, thumbs sweeping slow circles over the dark peaks until they hardened under his touch. He rolled each nipple between thumb and forefinger, tugging just enough to make her breath catch, then returned to kneading the soft flesh, watching the way it spilled between his fingers.

Only when her back arched did he lower his head. He lifted her left breast and closed his mouth over the nipple, sucking hard, tongue tracing the tight circle of her areola while his hand continued to work the other breast, pinching, rolling, squeezing in time with the relentless rhythm of his fingers below. The taste of her skin was warm and faintly sweet with the lingering scent of her perfume.

Marceline let out a low, shuddering breath that vibrated straight through his chest. Her fingers tangled into his hair, gripping tight, tugging his head closer to her breast rather than pulling him away.

"You’re terrible," she murmured, her voice breathless against his ear as his tongue flicked over her hardened nipple again. "I offer a demonstration... and you turn it into a robbery."

"You offered a thorough inspection," Zaeryn reminded her, his voice rough against her wet skin. He lifted his head, his blue eyes locking onto hers from inches away, still fondling the heavy underside of her other breast. "I’m just being methodical."

"Then be thorough," she demanded softly.

She didn’t wait for him to take the initiative. Marceline reached down between their bodies, her hands moving with frantic efficiency as she tore open the fastenings of his trousers. She didn’t bother fully undressing him. She just pushed the fabric down far enough to free his cock. It sprang heavy and aching against her pussy.

She leaned in and claimed his mouth in a deep, open kiss, tongue sliding hard against his, teeth catching his lower lip and tugging as she poured the wet heat of her mouth into him.

At the same time her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, gripping firm and warm, squeezing once to feel the heavy pulse jump against her palm. She stroked him slowly from root to tip, spreading the bead of precum over the swollen head with her thumb while her tongue fucked into his mouth with the same deliberate rhythm.

Zaeryn’s jaw tightened under the dual assault. She broke the kiss just long enough to drag her lower lip across his, then kissed him again, deeper, messier, as she lifted her hips. She aligned the head of his cock with her pussy entrance, guiding him against her soaked folds.

The wet glide of her juices made the contact effortless, hot, thick, and filthy, as she rubbed him slowly between her swollen lips, coating him thoroughly before she began to sink down.

She took him in until her tight, burning heat completely swallowed his length. She let out a controlled moan.

Zaeryn let out a low groan, his hands gripping her hips tightly to steady her as she seated herself completely, her wet core resting hard against his pelvis.

The sensation was suffocatingly tight, her inner muscles clutching his shaft as though recognizing him instantly.

"There," she whispered, her hands resting flat against his chest, feeling the heavy, rapid thud of his heart. Her green eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, but entirely focused on his face. "Now tell me... how does the fit feel?"

"Flawless," Zaeryn rasped.

"Now, let me take care of you." Marceline smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips, and began to move.

She lifted her hips, sliding up until only his head remained inside her, before sinking back down with a sharp, rolling motion of her pelvis. The friction was incredible. Every stroke squeezed him ruthlessly, the slick sound of their joined bodies rhythmically breaking the silence of the room.

Zaeryn didn’t remain passive. He met her movements from below, bucking his hips upward into her downstrokes, driving deeper into her core. His hands moved from her hips up her back, his fingers tracing the dip of her spine before gripping her shoulder blades, pulling her chest against his.

Her full breasts flattened against his bare chest as she rode him, the rhythm accelerating from measured control into something urgent and demanding. Marceline’s breath came in short gasps against his neck. The refined, distant matriarch was entirely gone, replaced by a woman taking exactly what she wanted before the morning separated them.

He flipped their positions in one movement.

Zaeryn shifted his weight, catching her by the thighs and driving her back onto the edge of the mattress. Marceline’s legs spread wide instinctively, hooking over his shoulders as he leaned over her, planting one hand beside her head and driving back into her with full, unyielding force.

The angle hit deep. Marceline’s back arched off the bed, a sharp, choked gasp escaping her throat as her eyes went wide.

"Zaeryn... Don’t stop!"

He didn’t give her room to talk. He set a hard, relentless pace, his strokes short and heavy, pounding deep into her tight, slick channel. Her inner walls quivered violently around his shaft, contracting in sharp, rhythmic spasms that signaled how close she was to the edge.

Looking down at her as he relentlessly thrust into her, she looked even more irresistible and her lips looked delicious. Zaeryn couldn’t help himself, he leaned down, capturing her mouth in a messy, bruised kiss, swallowing her gasps as his thumb found her swollen clit once more, rubbing hard against the friction of their bodies.

It was too much.

Marceline’s body gave in into him beneath him. Her toes curled, her thigh muscles locking tight against his ribs as a silent, breathless tension gripped her entire frame. She didn’t scream; she bit down hard on his lower lip, a muffled, shuddering groan catching in her throat as her orgasm tore through her.

Her inner muscles clamped around his cock, pulsing in rapid, desperate contractions that dragged him straight over the precipice with her.

Zaeryn groaned, his hips snapping forward two more times, as his own climax hit. He spilled thick and hot deep inside her, his vision going briefly white as the intense release surged through his core.

Marceline locked her legs around him, making sure he was held buried inside her for long seconds as she milked every drop from him.

Gradually, the tension bled out of the room.

Finally she let him go and Zaeryn eased his weight off her, pulling back slowly with a quiet, wet sound that made Marceline let out a soft, satisfied hum. He collapsed onto his side beside her, pulling her unresistingly against his chest.

Marceline rested her head in the crook of his neck, her dark hair splayed across his shoulder. Her skin was flushed, sticky with sweat and their mingled fluids, her breathing slowly returning to a steady, even rhythm.

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Outside, the distant hum of Sector 7’s nocturnal traffic hummed faint and meaningless beyond the heavy curtains.

Marceline reached up, her cool fingertips trailing lightly over the line of his jaw.

"You’re going to be insufferable in the Capital if you carry this much arrogance with you," she murmured, her voice lazy and warm against his skin.

Zaeryn smiled in the dark, resting his hand over hers. Then he remembered that tomorrow he still had to go to the capital and his mood was ruined a little.

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