Chapter 341 | Property of Belle Fox [GT BONUS]
Chapter 341: 341 | Property of Belle Fox [GT BONUS]
I crawled toward Belle on the mattress, my knees sinking into sheets that were already soaked through with Naomi’s milk and sweat. Belle watched me approach with the expression of a woman who had been sitting on a porch for twenty minutes listening to her best friend get fucked through a farmhouse wall while the California sunset painted everything gold.
Her patience, which had never been her strongest quality on the best of days, had evaporated completely somewhere around minute twelve.
"Fourteen seconds," she said.
I grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her hard enough that she stopped counting.
Belle’s mouth opened immediately. No warmth-up, no gentle build. She bit my lower lip and pulled until blood came, then licked it off with her tongue before I could react. The copper taste mixed with cherry from her lip gloss and something underneath that was just Belle, sharp and demanding and never satisfied.
"That’s for making me wait." She bit my jaw. Left a mark I could already feel swelling. "And this is for making me listen."
She shoved me backward onto the mattress beside Naomi, who rolled out of the way with a soft oof and propped herself on one elbow to watch. Belle climbed on top of me before my back finished hitting the sheets, her knees landing on either side of my hips with enough force that the bed frame groaned.
Belle Fox in cow-print lingerie, straddling me while her blue hair fell around her face in damp curtains and her bell chimed with every movement of her chest. The bra was still fastened but barely doing its job, her 38DDs pressing against the cow-print fabric with the heavy, full look that meant her body had been producing milk since she heard Naomi’s first moan through the wall.
She grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head against the pillow.
"Tonight you’re mine." Her amber eyes burned in the Sanctum’s sunset light. "Not hers. Not Aurora’s. Not Addison’s. Mine. And tomorrow when we walk into that gate, every single person on both squads is going to see what I left on your neck and your chest and your shoulders and they’re going to know."
"Belle."
"Shut up." She leaned down and sank her teeth into the muscle where my neck met my shoulder. Not a nibble. Not a love bite. A full, committed bite that sent a jolt of pain through my trapezius and made my entire body jerk upward against her.
"Nngh!" The sound came out of me before I could stop it, and Belle pulled back to examine her work with the satisfaction of an artist appraising a brushstroke.
"Good." She moved to the other side and bit again, this time closer to my throat, right above the collarbone where no shirt collar in my wardrobe could possibly cover it. The mark would sit there tomorrow during the gate briefing like a neon sign reading PROPERTY OF BELLE FOX.
I could have stopped her. C-rank Strength meant I could bench press her entire body weight with one arm. But something about the way Belle needed this, needed to mark me and claim me and carve her name into my skin with her teeth because she’d spent twenty minutes on a porch hearing Naomi receive what Belle wanted, kept my wrists where she’d pinned them and my mouth shut except for the sounds I couldn’t control.
Belle worked down from my throat to my chest, leaving a constellation of bite marks that would turn purple by morning. Each one came with a wet sound of her mouth sealing against skin, then the sharp pressure of teeth, then the release and the cool air against the bruise and the warm satisfaction of Belle’s tongue soothing what she’d just damaged.
From beside us on the bed, Naomi watched with her chin resting on her folded arms. Her pink eyes tracked every movement Belle made with the focused attention of someone studying a combat technique they intended to replicate later.
"You’re staring," Belle said without looking up from my sternum.
"I’m learning." Naomi’s voice carried that specific warmth that meant she was turned on but too polite to say so directly.
Belle laughed against my chest and the vibration ran through my ribs. "Watch this, then."
She sat up, reached behind her back, and unclasped her cow-print bra with one hand. The fabric fell away and her breasts dropped free, heavy and full, already leaking from both nipples in thin white streams that ran down her stomach and pooled in the dip of her navel.
She was so full that the milk beaded and dripped continuously, and the sight of Belle Fox sitting on my lap with milk running down her body in the golden Sanctum light was the kind of image that burned itself into permanent storage and refused deletion.
"You’ve been wanting these since I walked in." Belle cupped herself with both hands and squeezed, forcing twin jets of milk that arced through the air and hit my chest in warm splashes. "So take them."
I sat up fast enough that Belle had to catch herself with her hands on my shoulders. I wrapped one arm around her lower back, grabbed a full handful of her ass with the other hand, and pulled her forward until her left nipple met my mouth.
I was not gentle about it.
The first pull drew milk in a hot rush across my tongue, and I heard the system chime ten points in my peripheral but I was already past caring about the numbers because Belle’s milk tasted different when she was this aroused, richer and warmer with undertones of caramel that hadn’t been there during calmer sessions.
I sealed my mouth around her nipple and sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks and using my tongue to press the sensitive tissue against the roof of my mouth while my hand on her ass kneaded and squeezed with enough C-rank force that my fingers sank deep into soft flesh.
"Aaah, fuck, Monroe!"