CHAPTER 52: [R18] CLASH OF CROWNS(2)

Nia rose from her knees with a slow sway of her hips, eyes glinting as she straddled Nash on the sofa.

Her thighs pressed against his, her heat hovering right over the wet, glistening length she had just worked over with her mouth.

She let her eyes drop to it, thick, flushed, slick with her spit and still twitching with need, before curling her fingers around it again.

The warmth and weight filled her palm, the steady throb making her smirk.

She liked it like this, messy, wet, and hard, just the way she’d left it.

She stroked lazily, as if savoring the state she’d put him in, her thumb brushing over the slick head to smear more spit along the shaft.

She tilted her head, lips curling.

"You know... most guys need a good while to get hard again after a finish like that." Her tone was teasing, but her hand kept stroking him, steady and slow.

"You..." she dragged her nails lightly up the underside, watching him flinch, "are already ready for round two."

Nash smirked, letting her take the lead, but he could feel his pulse still strong, his body primed.

She teased him with a few slow pumps, eyes locked to his, before a tiny hitch in her breath gave her away.

Her thighs clamped tighter around him and a faint shiver ran up her spine.

Nia’s lips parted in a surprised, almost breathless laugh.

"Oh... fuck..." she muttered, rocking her bare, wet pussy over his slick shaft, feeling the mess coating him smear against her folds.

Her gaze sharpened, the usual smug curve of her mouth curling into something far hungrier. She didn’t know why her body was suddenly blazing, only that it was.

"Mmm... fuck... you’re making me so hot."

She ground against him harder, the sensitive skin of her clit dragging over his length in slow, dirty circles, her breathing breaking into needy little moans.

"God... you have no idea what I want you to do to me right now," she rasped, her tone rough.

Her hands slid up his chest, nails scraping through the fabric, hips rolling with more force, grinding her dripping slit along the thick ridge.

"I want you to pin me down... tear my clothes off... fuck me so hard this sofa breaks."

Her voice was shamelessly vulgar now, each word dripping with raw, aggressive lust.

Nash, until now letting her play, suddenly realized the heat in her eyes, the flush on her skin, it wasn’t just lust.

His passives were working. Without moving a muscle, he focused, bringing up her stats in his mind:

[NIA VALENCIA – Bond Status]

Type: Playful Predator / Risk Addict

Affection: 64%

Lust: 100%

Trust: 59%

Bond Sync: 2/5 – Controlled Chaos

Trigger Conditions:

Prolonged teasing

Risky or public foreplay (crowds, semi-private rooms, daring locations)

Sudden shifts from her dominance to being physically overpowered

Physical taunting, grabbing, lifting, pinning without warning

Treating her as "a sexual toy"

Matching her playful energy but escalating to dangerous tension

→ In-Scene Trigger Events:

• Let her control the pace before suddenly breaking it with force → Lust +12%

• Physically overpower her at the peak of her dominance → Lust +20%

• Destroy the room in the process of fucking (knocking over furniture, breaking items) → Affection +8%, Lust +10%

• Make her climax several times in one session → Affection +5% per climax

• Challenge her "queen of the game" vibe and make her yield → Affection +10%, Lust +10%, Trust +5%

• Ignore her provocations or refuse to engage in her "games" → Affection -10%, Lust -20%

• Acting timid or apologetic after she pushes the vibe sexual → Trust -5%

→ Risk Factor:

• Nia thrives on high-tension play but loses interest fast if her control isn’t challenged.

• Overpower too late and she’ll already be bored.

• She respects boldness, if you hesitate during a risky move, she’ll take back control and her affection will drop.

Nash’s eyes narrowed as he felt the shift. Nia’s hips ground down harder, her wet slit dragging against the length of his cock with a sloppy, smearing heat.

She was talking dirtier now, her words sharper, filthier, more demanding.

"Pin me down... fuck me until I scream... make me your toy," she hissed, nails digging into his skin. She didn’t realize the cum she’d swallowed was setting her on fire inside, every grind making her clit throb harder.

She just knew she wanted more, now.

Her pussy rubbed in slow, forceful circles, coating him in slick. Every few rolls, her hips would shudder, a quick gasp tearing from her throat. She was right on the edge, but she wouldn’t stop, she kept smearing herself over his length, eyes locked on his with that wild, taunting fire.

"You’re not ready for me," she growled, but Nash had already made his decision.

His hands shot up, gripping her hips hard enough to make her gasp. He yanked her down, grinding her against him with his strength, matching her force and pushing back.

"Oh, fuck—" she moaned, fighting for control, but Nash wasn’t giving it.

Their bodies slammed together in a dirty rhythm, the wet slap of her folds against his shaft filling the room.

She ground harder, faster, trying to outpace him. He rolled his hips upward, forcing her clit to drag along his cock’s ridge.

She cried out, the sound sharp and high, her back arching and her thighs shaking as her orgasm tore through her.

Hot, wet release spilled out over his shaft, coating him in a fresh, slippery mess. Her whole body trembled, but she didn’t let up.

Even with her pussy still pulsing and clenching from the climax, she pressed down harder, grinding in rough, urgent circles that smeared every drop against him.

Her hips snapped forward with almost violent force, making the wet slap of skin louder—SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!— each collision echoing through the room, the heat between them almost unbearable.

"Yeah—yeah—just like that—grind me raw, Nash."

He caught her jaw in one hand, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"You want it?" he growled.

"I want you to wreck me," she spat back, panting. "Right here. Right now."

He lifted her slightly, the head of his cock pressed right against her entrance. Her breath hitched, her whole body tightening with anticipation.

Then he drove in.

"FUUUUUCK!" she screamed, voice breaking, nails raking his shoulders.

Her pussy clamped around him instantly, the wet heat squeezing tight. Nash gritted his teeth and thrust again, harder, pulling another ragged scream from her lips.

"Don’t stop," she begged between gasps. "Fucking ruin me."

Nia rode him like she was trying to break him, hips snapping, wet heat grinding over every inch of him. Her breath came in ragged bursts, sweat streaking down her neck as she leaned in, palms flat on his chest, smirking like she owned him.

"You’re just holding on," she taunted, rolling her hips slow to drag every tight inch over him. "I’m running this."

Nash let her play queen for a moment, studying the sway of her breasts, the slap of her soaked folds meeting his base.

SMACK... SMACK... SMACK.

Then he moved, hands snapping up to catch her wrists. In one pull, she was under him, their weight slamming into the sofa, cushions groaning and frame creaking.

Her laugh came out breathless.

"Oh, so you do bite back?"

"More than bite," he growled, locking her wrists over her head as his hips drove forward.

The sofa moaned beneath them, every thrust scraping the legs against the floor, the frame shifting under their sweat-slick bodies.

Nia met him thrust for thrust, sharp little gasps turning to guttural moans, her ass slapping against his thighs.

"Harder!" she barked, eyes flashing. "If you want to take it, TAKE it!"

He lifted her off the sofa mid-motion, carrying her to the wall. The impact rattled frames loose, a lamp clattering down, a glass shattering on the table.

Her legs cinched around him, heels digging into his back, plaster trembling from the pace.

"This your idea of control?" he rasped in her ear.

"Shut up and fuck me!" she screamed, nails dragging fire down his back.

Her orgasm hit like a snap, eyes flying wide, mouth dropping open in a twisted mix of shock and bliss.

Her brows pulled tight, lips trembling as a raw cry ripped free.

A shudder ran from her shoulders to her toes, legs locking around him as if to keep him buried deep.

A hot, gushing spill poured down his length in sudden splashes, wetting his thighs and the ground beneath them, the mess spreading as she convulsed.

He didn’t ease up, driving through every pulse, making the climax crash over her again and again.

He dropped her onto the sofa again, the frame thudding into the wall, cushions sinking deep under her arched body.

He hooked her hips up, tilting her so her ass was high, the curve round and taut in his grip.

His cock slid in from behind with a wet sound, and he drove forward hard enough to make the table beside them skid and rock against the floor.

The cushions sagged deep under her, the springs giving sharp squeaks, while the table legs gave a dull bump-bump each time his hips met hers.

The air between them felt heavy, steam rolling off their skin, the heat sticking them together.

The wet clap of their bodies came in steady, deep rhythms, mixing with the sofa’s strained creak and the faint rattle of plates on the table.

Her ass jiggled with every thrust, cheeks parting around the base of him, the soft flesh bouncing back into his hips.

Her moans tumbled out in jagged bursts, high, breathless, needy, breaking into raw, wordless cries that lifted and cracked as he pushed her harder.

"Say it," he ordered, fist in her hair, the other hand smacking her ass with a sharp crack that made her hips jump. She gasped, shuddering hard, the table behind them shaking with every thrust.