So Much Trouble Ch. 03

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


Author’s Note: Welcome to the last chapter of So Much Trouble! These chapters are not episodic, so if you’re just finding this here, you’ll want to start at Chapter 1 so things make some sense. 🙂

All characters in all chapters are over 18.

Happy reading!


* * *

He pushed a hand back over the top of his head. The Archregent’s daughter. How would he look Strati in the eye and tell her nothing had happened? Tell her he’d protected Gallea and talked her out of her ridiculous Wish. That the young woman wouldn’t leave her rooms pouting and thwarted would be answer enough.

He made a face and thrust his hands into the basin to catch the spray of water and wash. He took soap from the dispenser. Ohh, he was in trouble. Trouble, trouble, trouble. Argent knew how to handle military problems. Haavet would be nothing compared to this.

He splashed water on his face and scrubbed. Grabbed a plush cloth from the wall to dry. It was not as soft as her skin. Her naked, perfec—


Gallea stood in the open doorway. Her skirt and top were not with her. Argent closed his mouth. Put down the cloth.

“You want a dead admiral in your apartment, that’s a good way to do it.”

A dazed smile softened her face, and she padded the two steps to meet him. Even as she rose on the balls of her feet, Argent still had to look down to meet her eyes. Which were closed. She stretched up to kiss him and, like a bastard, he let it happen. There was probably another bad name for what kind of man he was to slip a hand to the small of her bare back.

And then the tug at his belt.

He froze.

“What are you doing?”

Fingers worked at his fly.

“You’re not done being my first,” she said, the words brushing over his mouth.

Argent huffed a breath through his nose. “Gallea.”

She was jerking his trousers loose. “Smile again, Argent, I want to see it.” Pulling his shirt out. “I want to make you feel like that.”

He caught one of her forearms, but it wasn’t enough. Her other hand burrowed below fabric, and he hissed when her touch found his bare, hard cock.

Then the free air found it. Gallea had him out.

Rapt attention pulled her focus down to what was in her hand, as though it were the first, real live erection she’d ever held. It may well have been.

“So warm.” Utter fascination as she slipped her fingers around him.

“You don’t … nnh.” He closed his eyes. “You don’t need t—”

“Yes, I do.” She took back her arm from his grip. “I need everything. Tonight.”

Argent’s breath hitched when her touch became soft strokes, and he grunted when he let himself look down to see his ruddy prick in her delicate hand.

“You’re going to leave and go to Haavet,” she said. “I’ll never convince you again. You’ll come back and try to ignore me.” Desperation laced her words, her touch.

“No one could ignore you, Gallea.” He sure as fuck couldn’t.

“Then don’t,” she said. “Not now.”

And then she sank to her knees.

Argent stood there like an idiot, jaw slack. He should be doing something. Backing away. Getting his trousers back together. Not letting her angle his hardon lower. Not watching her duck her face close, and Unity, she was brushing him along her cheek like his cock was a caressing hand.

When she turned her head, that hot mouth fell open, and the pink tongue came out to drag along the underside of him. Argent balled hands into fists and tried to breathe.

Gallea swallowed him down. It was no lie; he was her first. Maybe she’d seen some Omnote content somewhere, some woman on a holo projection sucking a dick, but he could tell by the halting movements she’d had no real experience anywhere else.

He didn’t care. That it was happening at all made him silently threaten his balls not to explode down her virgin throat. The entire thing was surreal; it didn’t have to be great. The Archregent’s daughter, knees apart on the washroom floor, doing her unpracticed best to suck and stroke the admiral.

For a man who was supposed to be ending this, he spent a lot of time slack-jawed, watching his dick get eaten. All higher thought left, and he combed fingers into her hair. Wide, foolishly trusting blue eyes stared up at him, and Argent used her mouth.

He wasn’t rough, wasn’t hurried about it. There was only the urge to see that he could. That Gallea would let him feed his shaft past her lips, let him anchor a fist in those gold tresses and take advantage of her. Just a little.

You’ll come back and try to ignore me.

How? How could he do that now?

Frustration had him taking her deeper, slower. The way her sweet face changed when he showed her there was more of him that could fill her mouth, could press her tongue down how he wanted. Control her breath how he wanted.

She was panting, cheeks flushed when he pulled himself back. In a move from academy days, he ducked low and hoisted her under the arms. Put a shoulder into her İstanbul Escort middle and stood, grip on the backs of her knees so she folded over him, pert backside next to his ear, hands clutching the back of his shirt.


Her shock made a thrill course in his veins. Whose Wish was it now, when he strode again to the bed and dumped Gallea onto her back? When he crawled up over her naked body, everything he knew he shouldn’t be?

“You don’t want to be ignored?” he said. “You want all my attention?” He sat back on his bootheels long enough to pull his shirt off over his head, before pushing his knees between hers and sinking low to brace on an elbow.

“This is what all my attention feels like.” He ground his cock between her legs. His fly had fallen in place to cover most of him again, but she would feel the hard ridge bruising her mound.

Gallea’s hands rushed to explore his bare chest, the bulk of his shoulders, the back of his neck. Her breath came short, mouth fell open. Innocent, hungry trust crackled in blue eyes.

“You want this?” he growled, and his thumb smeared over her lower lip. “You want Fleet Admiral Iqarius to fuck you?”

“Unity!” Her hips rolled against him, a fever of want.

He let his weight pin her. Took that same lower lip between his teeth and bit a whimper from her throat. There were humid kisses for her face, her neck. Merciless little pinches for her nipples that made her back bow and quiet sounds of distress plead at his ear.

He came to center, his forehead pressing to hers, thumb digging in over her bare hip.

“I’ll hurt you, Gallea.”

Nails bit his biceps.

“Yes! Yes, I want it!”

How many warnings could this girl ignore? Argent grabbed up her hand and thrust it between them, wrapping her fingers where he ached. “This,” he said, squeezing his grip around hers. “This. All of this, inside you.” Did she understand? “It’s not two fingers, little girl.”

“Plee-hee-hease! Argent!” Gallea was all but sobbing beneath him, hips tilting to get what he withheld.

All of them. All the warnings.

He slipped his fingers between her legs. Smeared them where she was slick. Her eyes were on him, pupils huge, refusing to miss a second of her Wish.

Sweet Unity, I’m doing this.

Argent brushed her hand aside and stroked his now wet hand down his shaft.

Doing this, doing this, doing this.

He paused at the threshold, drinking the sight, the scent.

“I can’t take this back,” he said.

“I don’t want it back.” She shook her head. “Take it.”

He did.

Pretty pink lips plumped around the fat crown of his dick, and he slipped with ease to that deepest point where her entrance waited, eyes down while he angled home. Gallea made lovely, tortured sounds when the head of him sank inside. More of him went, and fingertips dug into his bracing arm.


His focus was on the task: squeezing himself by measures into a tight space that didn’t know how to accept him.

“Yes, Precious?” Wicked disingenuity laced his tone, as though he had no idea what could be flustering the poor girl.

“Unh.” Her eyes squinted closed. Upper lip curled with the struggle. “Argent, I … it’s …”

He dropped down to smash her legs wide with his hips. To brace on his elbow, and drawl out mocking pity at her ear. “Is it too big?”

Gallea whined, and he gave her more, the swell of power making him drunk. He pulled back so he could force-feed her the same hard length again, slow still, but all in one motion this time.

“Is this not what you asked for, Gallea?” A sweet taunt while her soft belly quivered under hard muscle and a dusting of hair. “Everything? Tonight?”

Her breath hitched in her chest. Open thighs twitched at his hips, her core nervous to relax.

“Here,” he said, relentless, “take the rest.”

Bright blue eyes opened wide when Argent filled her with the last of his cock, the small of her buttocks pressing a warm, close cradle around his sack.

She squirmed, tentative. Adjusting.

He kissed her. Smothered her. Weighted her down and let her struggle around the hard organ locking them together. Oh, the hesitant scrabble of her bare feet in the bedclothes. The musical tang of all the desperate little noises she gave up into his mouth. He carved them out with his tongue, like a fiend.

Her first. Unity, he was her first.

Argent let himself be still. Gallea followed, the fingertips of one hand skimming down his ribs to his hip, to the meat of his backside where trousers covered most of him. It was as if she needed to feel it with her own hands to believe it: thighs parting hers, male muscle keeping this rigid thing lodged in her body.

Her eyes shone wet, and she watched him, waiting. Some of the tension melted in her limbs, and Argent pressed his lips to her brow. A thumb brushed along her cheek.

“Now,” he said, quiet patience returning, “tell me your Wish again. İstanbul Escort bayan Tell me what you want.”

“Y-you,” said Gallea. “This.”

“Mmm? Yes?” The thumb moved to the corner of her mouth, tracing. He throbbed inside her, earning a delicious little shudder of breath. “Can you take this cock, Gallea?”

A quick nod came with wide eyes.

He hummed. “Show me.” Pulled back his hips only to ease into her heat again. “Show me what you can take.”

Argent let the motion continue, slow and grinding, and felt the first tilt of her hips up to meet his. A smile curled his mouth on one side. He gave her more, incremental. A little less careful with his strokes, his pace waking up. His right hand found her left and laced their fingers together, pinning her knuckles to the bed. She tensed around him and whimpered.

“Shh-sh-shhhh, Gallea.” He kissed her temple, nipped at her ear, all while stirring between her legs. “Be a good girl and get fucked. Just like you wanted.”

Her eyes rolled back and Gallea bit her lip. Argent drove several short huffs of air from her lungs with subtle jerks of his hips, and her free hand slid to shove his trousers lower, to knead the flexing round of his ass.

Ohhh no, no. You are not in charge anymore, sweetness.

He gave up his hold on her hand to feel around for her knee. To hook it over his elbow when he did, and bear her thigh back toward her wobbling breast.

Her mouth dropped open into a choppy little moan. The new hold spread her further, incapacitated her further, so she was wide open for however Argent chose to pack her full of dick. And at this angle, right away, a deliberate thrust made her yip.

She wriggled, caught, but he pumped his cock in and out of that tight, virgin pussy, shame heating his flesh at just how much satisfaction he got from overwhelming the Archregent’s daughter.

Her heavy tits bobbed, hypnotic, and Argent bent to suck a nipple into his mouth. The move folded her further in half, his length pushing deeper still, and she cried out, bucking against so much at one time.

“Are you being good for me, Gallea?” he said, rising to brace on an arm so he could watch those big blue eyes while he fucked her.

“Y-yes?” Mouth open. Fevered cheeks. She was beautiful. Perfect.

“Say, ‘Yes, Admiral.’?”

Her pupils dilated at this new escalation, and Argent plundered her slick little cunt.

“Y-yes! Admiral.” Gallea repeated it, breathy, letting him lead her to places neither of them should ever be. Places that made his balls tighten and his blood burn.

“Good girl,” he said and brought a hand to cup the side of her face. His thumb shifted to pull at her lower lip. To nudge at her teeth so she’d let him inside.


She did, and it was exquisitely wrong to watch.

Wet, how he wanted, Argent took the thumb back. His palm splayed low over her belly where he could notch the digit, just so, the slick pad finding the place that made her spine curl. Gallea gave a sharp, high moan, and he sought a rhythm.

Thumb circling, mashing her clit, cock sluicing in and out—a slow labor still, as this wasn’t for him. Not just yet.

Now, he wanted her sounds. The pretty contortion of her face with each new part of the experience.

He rutted into her. Worked that little pearl topping the flare of her lips around him. Her free leg speared downward alongside his knee, backside clenching to help her meet his strokes in the small way he’d left her to claim. Her hands spread wide in the dark bedding like pale starfish. Breath came short.

Argent feathered rapid attention over her clit. He frowned, broke stride, and seized his thumb in his own mouth, wetting himself again, only to return to it, slip-sliding and focused.

Gallea’s mouth dropped all the way open. Her back tried to twist, balking away from sensation.

“No,” he said. “No, Precious, feel it.”

His left knee hitched higher to push her thigh wide, and his opposite arm still hooked her other knee back, razing those sweet defenses.

“Feel it.”

She wasn’t going to get away from this. There was nowhere to go. Nothing to bar the precise attack from his thumb. The steady plumb and draw of his cock. Her fingers clutched the covers.


Gallea didn’t recognize it.


And then she did.

A hot grip sucked at him from inside. Her nipples tightened to dark pink points.

Keep going, idiot. Just like this. Don’t fuck this up.

Argent held his pattern in a steel grip, hips hitching regular like a drumbeat, thumb talking to her clit.

Gallea wailed.

Her pussy clutched and released, milking, helpless. Cool air kissed him—he was sliding through a glut of new moisture between her legs.

Deep blue sea!

He drove her through it until a note of panic shimmered across her face, but then took his thumb away. Gallea’s limbs slackened. Her throat bobbed in a swallow.

A Escort İstanbul better man would have stopped then. Would have let her simmer in it, panting. Argent was not a better man, it seemed. He was losing his mind.

With a shift of his right arm, he pushed the knee he’d been trapping to the left, forcing her thigh across her body and her hips to turn.

Gallea watched, limp, while he held her knee to the mattress and fucked into her sideways, her pussy compressed to a taut slit he had to bore his way into. A dark stain had spread on the covers in the place her ass had been.

This was for him now. For him. He slipped a hand up to mold one of her tits, greedy. She reached to touch his groping hand, his arm, in a daze. So soft. So malleable. Argent palmed the cheek of her ass, spreading it just to be lewd.


He pushed her hip to follow the leg, and her shoulders had turn or her spine would twist too far. A single blue eye watched him from under a nervous brow. Argent pressed her to her belly, thighs still split around him, and continued to fuck himself into her yielding body.

Gallea had to drag her right arm out from under herself to flatten. He pinned her at the small of her back with a hand, wallowing in and out, squeezing and spreading her buttocks with his other so he could watch the violation.

Argent smiled at the flush on her face, the crease between her shoulder blades where she tried to struggle to her elbows on the bed.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked between lazy thrusts.

She twisted her neck to look at him. “Are … are you … done?” A pink tongue wet her lips. “You don’t want to … I mean …?”

The innocent confusion was wrecking his self-control.

“Ohh, I want to, Gallea.” Watching himself disappear into the pink of her was a nightmare. He couldn’t take it.

“Please,” she said, hair a mess over the side of her face. “I want it.”

He groaned and caught her by the hips. “Do you?” The grey fabric of his uniform trousers bunched on his thighs where they braced her apart for the taking. “Until I finish?”

She bit her lip, eyes closing with a furrowed brow. “Yes.” Her spine arched, presenting the prize he was already claiming. “Yes, Admiral.”

Argent growled. Out loud. She gasped when he left her, but it was only to make the quickest work of stripping off the rest of his clothes. Gallea had begun to turn to see what he was doing, but he was pushing her legs wide again, mounting her again.

That smooth, pert ass, twitching and vulnerable above his skewering prick, turned Argent into an animal. While Gallea panted under the industry of his fucking, he plied the pale cheeks apart with his thumbs. Lecherous, he let the saliva pooling under his tongue drip down in a silver line to land in her crack and roll toward what came next. He smeared a thumb in it, kneading puckered flesh where her body sealed her tight.

Gallea sucked in air and her eyes flew back open.

Oh, yes.

Argent pushed his spit into the little pink pucker with that thumb.


Her breathy cry made his blood surge, but he had her staked wide with his knees. His thumb worried the knot of muscle guarding the drum-tight hole until he could press it in to the web of his hand and grip her from inside in the filthiest of ways.

Gallea’s panting came hoarse now as Argent penetrated her in both places. Hoisted her ass with that confusing thumb while he opened her pussy below, stroke after stroke. Only when the Archregent’s daughter fell to delirium, a glaze on her eyes like she didn’t know the day of the week, did he slip his cock from her heat.

He was slick, and she was drunk on new sensation. Unguarded. Without the pressure, her body expelled his thumb, and Argent had the head of his dick there to replace it. The pliant hole he’d worked to relax swallowed him past the head before the tight ring snapped in place and Gallea gasped.


The haze burned away from her eyes in a flash. Her fingers grabbed at the bed cover, elbows trying to push her up, buttocks clenching. He massaged the globes of flesh while her bowels tried to push him out. Argent held her in place and sank low to cover her back, knees slipping wider to spread her against retreat.

“Ohh, but this is what you wanted,” he said, kissing the back of her shoulder. “You wanted your first time to be with a grown man. You wanted him to finish.”

Argent let his hips move now, let his fat crown sally in and out, just past her entrance. Her fingernails dug into the back of his hand, where it pressed into the mattress alongside her face.


“Well I’m a grown man,” he cooed, “and I’m going to finish. You want me to put a baby in you? Would you like to explain that to your mother?”

“N-no?” The word rose at the end, light panic at more than one prospect, both of which Argent was threatening.

He combed gold strands away from her cheek so he could watch her face while he pushed and stretched her a little more.

“Then this is where you’re taking my come,” he said, and pressed deeper. “Right here.”

“Argent.” A hiccough of breath followed his name. A mewl and squirm of her thighs, her buttocks against his groin. He pushed hot kisses along her cheekbone.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32