SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Chapter 666: Long Night [II] +18

Cynthia swallowed hard, her courage wavering now that Trafalgar was looking at her like that. It would have been easier to hide against him, laugh it off, and let him take control again, but that was not what she wanted. Not this time.She had asked.

So she forced herself to move before embarrassment could steal the moment from her. Cynthia pushed him back onto the bed, and Trafalgar let himself fall with a faint lift of his brow, clearly amused and clearly interested.

'Does she want to take charge? Well, I'll let her, since she seems keen to do it and has mustered up the courage.'

She climbed over him with a boldness that surprised them both, her face burning as her hands pressed against his chest.

For a breath, she only stayed there, trying to act as if her heart was not hammering hard enough to betray her.

Trafalgar's cock twitched against her ass, hard and impatient, and she ground down against him, relishing the way his breath hitched.

"Like that?" she teased, rocking her hips in slow circles.

"Yeah," he growled, hands gripping her thighs. "I like that a lot actually."

She then reached for his cock, guiding him inside her in one smooth motion, both of them groaning as she sank down. The stretch was delicious, overwhelming, her walls clenching around him as she rode him slow and deep. Trafalgar's fingers dug into her hips, his jaw tight, but she wasn't done yet. She wanted to make him lose control.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, her tits brushing against his face. He didn't hesitate—he captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while she rolled her hips, taking him deeper with every thrust.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his chest, her tits brushing against his face. He didn't hesitate—he captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while she rolled her hips, taking him deeper with every thrust.

"Cynthia," he groaned, voice raw. "You're gonna kill me."

She smirked, sitting up straighter, letting him fill her completely. "Then die happy."

Her rhythm picked up, hips snapping down faster, her thighs burning with the effort. Trafalgar's hands slid up to her waist, then to her breasts, squeezing and kneading as she bounced on him. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with their ragged breaths.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his thumbs circling her clit in time with her movements.

She moaned, her head falling back as pleasure coiled tight in her gut. "Don't stop—"

He didn't. His fingers worked her in perfect rhythm, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her vision blur. She came with a cry, her walls fluttering around him, her nails digging into his chest as she rode out the orgasm.

But she wasn't done.

She slid off him with a wet sound, leaving him glistening and half-hard before pushing him back against the pillows. He raised an eyebrow as she maneuvered him to the edge of the bed, her hands on his shoulders.

"My turn," she purred, sinking to her knees between his legs. "I want to try something."

Trafalgar groaned as her mouth wrapped around his cock, her tongue swirling around the tip before she took him deep. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head, her fingers tracing the vein along his shaft. His hips lifted off the bed, a guttural sound tearing from his throat.

"Cynthia—"

She pulled off with a wet pop, smirking up at him. "You like that, I don't know if I'm doing it right?"

"Yeah, you have a talent for this," he growled, tangling his fingers in her hair.

She stood, biting her lip as she climbed back onto the bed, this time straddling him in reverse. She took him inside her again, gasping as he filled her, her hands braced on his thighs as she rode him slow and deep. His fingers found her clit, rubbing in tight circles as she bounced on him, her breasts swaying with every movement.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough. "Take what you want."

She did. She rode him until her thighs burned, her breath coming in sharp gasps, her orgasm building again with relentless precision. Trafalgar's free hand gripped her hip, his thumb pressing against her clit as she came apart above him, her walls clenching around him as pleasure crashed over her.

She didn't stop.

She leaned forward, bracing herself on his chest, her tits swaying as she fucked him through her climax. Trafalgar's grip tightened, his hips jerking up to meet hers as his own release neared.

"Cum for me," she demanded, her voice husky. "I want to feel it."

He groaned, his back arching as he spilled inside her, his cock pulsing with every thrust. Cynthia rode him through it, milking every last drop before collapsing against his chest, her heart hammering.

Trafalgar wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as their breathing slowly steadied. She could feel his cock still half-hard inside her and stayed against him for a while, her breathing uneven against his chest, her body warm and heavy in a way that made the room feel much smaller than before.

Trafalgar kept one arm around her waist, fingers moving slowly along her back. He did not speak immediately. Neither did she. After everything that had happened that night, silence finally felt useful.

Cynthia eventually lifted her face.

Her white hair had fallen across one side of her cheek, and her golden eyes were still bright, though now there was something shy returning to them. The confidence that had carried her through the last few minutes began to crack under memory, and Trafalgar watched the realization arrive piece by piece.

She remembered what she had said.

She remembered what she had done.

Her face turned red so quickly that Trafalgar almost admired the efficiency.

Cynthia swallowed, trying to keep whatever dignity she had left. "Do you still have energy?"

Trafalgar looked at her for a moment.

"I could continue if you want," he said, voice low, amusement threaded through it despite his restraint. "Though I admit, I did not expect that line from you. Very bold for your first time."

Cynthia froze. 'Cum for me I want to feel it.'

The blush deepened from her cheeks to the tips of her ears, and she lowered her head against him as if hiding there might erase the last few minutes from history. Unfortunately for her, history had already taken notes.

"I was not thinking properly," she muttered.

"Clearly."

"Trafalgar."

"What? I am agreeing with you."

She pressed her forehead against his chest, mortified. "Do not think I am some kind of pervert or anything. It was my first time doing all of that. I do not know why I said those things. I was just… caught up in everything."

Trafalgar's hand continued moving along her back, slow and warm. "Yes, yes. I believe you."

Cynthia lifted her head just enough to glare at him. "You do not sound like you believe me."

"I said the words."

"That is not the same."

Trafalgar's mouth curved faintly, but his hand rose to her hair, brushing it back from her face with more gentleness than the teasing in his voice suggested. "Cynthia, relax. I am not judging you."

Her glare weakened, though the embarrassment remained.

He looked at her properly then, without mockery. "You wanted me. You said what you felt in the moment. That does not make you anything strange."

Cynthia's lips parted slightly, and for once she did not answer fast.

Trafalgar's thumb brushed near her temple. "Besides, after everything you heard tonight, if that is what embarrasses you most, I think your priorities are impressive."

Cynthia stared at him.

Then she gave a small, helpless laugh and buried her face against his chest again.

"You are terrible."

"I have been told."

"By who?"

"Everyone with taste."

She laughed again, softer this time, and Trafalgar held her while the heat between them eased. The night was not finished, not really, but for the first time since Aurevane, Trafalgar didn't seem in a hurry to chase the next disaster.