"Mmm..." she moaned softly, eyes fluttering half-closed. "So much already leaking for . Are you going to give more, husband?"
She didn’t wait for an answer.
She took him back into her mouth—deeper this ti.
Her throat opened for him, relaxing as she swallowed around the head, letting him feel the tight, rippling squeeze of her throat muscles.
She held him there, nose almost brushing his pelvis, eyes watering slightly from the stretch but never breaking eye contact.
Then—slowly—she began to bob.
Not fast. Not frantic.
Long, wet, luxurious drags.
Pulling off until just the head remained trapped between her lips, then sinking back down until he was buried to the hilt again.
Each descent was accompanied by a soft, needy hum that vibrated straight through his cock and into his spine.
Aiden groaned, low and ragged.
"Fuck, Nayla... look at you taking like that..."
She pulled off with a wet pop, lips swollen and glossy, strings of saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth down onto his shaft.
"You like watching choke on you?" she teased, voice wrecked and dripping with lust. "Like seeing your new wife on her knees, drooling all over your cock while the others pretend to sleep and listen to every filthy sound?"
A soft whimper ca from sowhere near the edge of the bed—soone (probably Luna) trying and failing to stay quiet.
Nayla’s smile turned downright sinful.
She licked a slow stripe up the side of his length, then wrapped her lips around the head again—sucking hard enough to hollow her cheeks, tongue flicking relentlessly against the sensitive underside.
Aiden’s hips jerked.
"Careful," he growled through clenched teeth. "Keep that up and I’m going to fuck your throat raw."
"Promise?" she whispered against him, then took him deep again—deeper than before.
This ti she didn’t stop when he hit the back of her throat.
She pushed further, relaxing her throat completely, until her lips kissed the base and her nose pressed flush against his pelvis.
She held him there—throat convulsing around him in rhythmic swallows—then slowly dragged herself back up, letting him feel every inch of her tight, wet heat releasing him.
When she finally pulled off, gasping, a thick strand of saliva stretched from her lower lip to his glistening cock.
She looked utterly debauched—hair mussed, lips swollen dark red, chin shiny with spit and precum.
And she was still smiling.
"You’re trying to kill ," Aiden rasped, voice wrecked.
"Not yet," she purred. "I want to play a little longer."
She shifted higher on her knees, bringing her massive breasts into perfect alignnt with his cock.
Then—without breaking eye contact—she cupped them in both hands and pressed them together around his shaft.
The heat. The softness. The impossible weight of them enveloping him completely.
Aiden groaned so deep it was almost a growl.
"Fuck... look at that..."
Nayla slid her breasts up and down his length—slow, slippery, obscene.
Her nipples dragged along his shaft with every stroke, stiff and dark against her sapphire skin.
She squeezed tighter, creating a perfect, plush channel for him to fuck into.
"Feel how heavy they are?" she whispered, voice dripping sex. "How soft? All that ascension did was make them even bigger... even fuller... just for you to bury yourself between them."
She leaned forward, letting the head of his cock peek out from the top of her cleavage with every upward stroke.
Then she dipped her chin and flicked her tongue across the tip each ti it erged—teasing, tasting, never letting him forget her mouth was still hungry for him.
Aiden’s hands found her hair, fingers threading through the midnight strands—not forcing, just holding on as his hips began to rock in shallow, helpless thrusts.
"You’re gonna make co like this," he warned, voice strained.
Nayla’s eyes glittered with triumph.
"Good," she purred, squeezing her breasts even tighter around him. "Then co. Paint my tits. Mark your new Sovereign wife while the others listen and pretend they’re not dripping wet from the sounds."
She sped up just a fraction—still slow, still torturous, but with more pressure, more friction.
Her tongue kept flicking the head every ti it erged, lips brushing it, sucking lightly when she could catch it.
The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the room—obscene, rhythmic, impossible to ignore.
Sowhere on the edge of the bed, another soft, stifled moan slipped out.
Nayla’s smile turned feral.
"Co for , Aiden," she whispered, voice velvet sin. "Cover . Let them sll it on my skin tomorrow morning. Let them know exactly what their turn feels like when it finally cos."
She squeezed one last ti—hard—and dragged her breasts down his length in one long, slow, perfect stroke.
Aiden’s control snapped.
He ca with a guttural groan—thick ropes of cum painting her chest, her throat, dripping down between her breasts in hot, sticky lines.
Nayla moaned at the feel of it—warm, heavy, claiming.
She milked him through every pulse, never stopping the slow glide of her breasts until he was spent, shuddering, cock twitching between her tits.
When she finally released him, she looked down at the ss she’d made of herself—cum glistening on sapphire skin, dripping slowly toward her navel.
Then she lifted her gaze to his, licked a stray drop from her lower lip, and smiled.
"Welco ho, husband," she whispered.
Nayla’s crimson eyes glead with wicked satisfaction as she watched Aiden shudder through the aftershocks, his release still warm and sticky across her chest.
She dragged one finger through the thick ropes of cum between her breasts, bringing it to her lips and sucking it clean with a slow, deliberate hum.
"Mmm... so much," she purred, voice low and dripping with filthy pride. "You marked so well, husband."
Aiden’s breathing was still ragged, chest heaving as he stared down at her—debauched, glistening, utterly ruined in the most beautiful way.
But his cock hadn’t softened.
Not even close.
It twitched against her sternum, still hard, still leaking, still hungry.
Nayla noticed imdiately.
Her smile turned darker.
"You’re not done yet," she whispered, almost reverent. "Good."
She shifted lower again, settling between his thighs once more.
She wrapped both hands around the base of his shaft—still slick with her spit and his cum—and angled him toward her waiting mouth.
Aiden’s hand shot out, fingers threading into her midnight hair—not pulling, just holding.
"No tits this ti," he rasped, voice rough with fresh need. "Mouth only. I want to fill your throat. I want to feel you swallow every drop while the others listen to you choke on ."
Nayla’s pupils blew wide.
A soft, needy whimper escaped her before she could stop it.
"Yes..." she breathed, voice trembling with want. "Use my throat. Fuck it. Fill it. Make take it all."
She opened her mouth wide—tongue flat, lips stretched—and took him in one slow, deep glide.
No teasing this ti.
No pulling back.
She sank down until her nose pressed flush against his pelvis, throat opening completely, muscles rippling around him in rhythmic swallows.
Aiden groaned—deep, broken.
"Fuck... just like that..."
He didn’t thrust yet.
He let her set the pace—slow, torturous, luxurious drags up and down his length.
Every ti she reached the base, she held him there—throat convulsing, milking him with rhythmic squeezes—then pulled back inch by glistening inch, letting him feel every flutter of her tongue, every ripple of her throat releasing him.
When only the head remained between her lips, she sucked hard—hollowing her cheeks, tongue swirling relentlessly—before plunging down again.
The wet, obscene sounds filled the room: gluck-gluck-gluck, soft gags, slick slurps, her needy little hums vibrating straight through his cock.
Aiden’s grip tightened in her hair.
"Gods... you’re perfect," he growled. "Taking so deep... so fucking greedy for it..."
Nayla moaned around him—loud, shaless—the vibration making his hips jerk.
She pulled off just long enough to gasp, strings of saliva and precum dripping from her swollen lips.
"More," she begged, voice wrecked. "Fuck my throat. Use . I want to feel you pulse... want to taste every drop when you flood ..."
She dove back down—deeper, harder, faster now.
Aiden couldn’t hold back anymore.
He began to thrust—shallow at first, then deeper, hips rolling in slow, controlled strokes that buried him to the hilt every ti.
Nayla took it all.
Her eyes watered, tears clinging to her lashes, but she never looked away—never stopped moaning, never stopped swallowing around him like she was starving for it.
The bed creaked faintly with each thrust.
Sowhere in the darkness, another stifled whimper—then another.
The others were breaking.
They couldn’t pretend anymore.
Nayla’s throat worked him relentlessly—tight, hot, rippling—milking every inch.
Aiden’s breathing grew ragged, hips snapping harder.
"Fuck—Nayla—I’m close—"
She humd—deep, needy—encouraging.
He thrust once, twice more—deep, possessive—then buried himself to the root and held.
He ca with a guttural groan, thick spurts flooding her throat.
Nayla swallowed greedily—over and over—throat working visibly, milking him dry while her crimson eyes stayed locked on his, shining with triumph and lust.
When he finally finished, shuddering, she pulled back slowly—letting his softening cock slip from her lips with a wet pop.
A thin strand of cum and saliva connected them for a heartbeat before it snapped.
She licked her swollen lips, tasting the last traces of him.
Then—voice hoarse, wrecked, utterly satisfied—she smiled up at him.
"Welco ho... again," she rasped.
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END OF Chapter : 211 : NAYLA’S BLOWJOB!
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