Marry The Knight update

Mei Wing entered the hide-out of her gang, the Golden Dragons, bearing the suitcase of coke she had promised them. One more piece of the puzzle: it would lead to more money to spend, more territory to control, and a higher placement for her in the Triads that sponsored them. All part of her mission as an undercover cop. And as an undercover, she could see all the evils of this, while the good was far away. Nearly invisible.

Perhaps it was lost in thoughts of this, of her inner conflict over doing evil to do good, that she did not notice the silence until she was engulfed in it. The hide-out had been trashed, her men systematically beaten into unconsciousness. It had happened fast: some were face-down in the takeout they had been eating, never having even seen what had undone them. Lynx drew her gun, but all of a sudden the silence broke with a whisper of movement. Someone or something—she did not know if it was even human—hit her from behind, bearing her against the wall with her gun-hand twisted behind her back, tough leather gloves barricading the trigger.

“That’s no way to greet a guest,” Robin said in her ear, holding her fast. He’d moved quickly enough to put her in a hold before she knew she was in a fight; still, Mei struggled. She had not become the Lynx to be manhandled.

“How can you do this?” she demanded of him, relinquishing the gun into the gentle tug he gave it. He stepped back, disassembling it in quick gestures, while Mei remained facing the wall. “They will ask questions when conscious again! My cover—“

“If you are an HK cop,” Robin said, “you’ve been under too long. You say you started when you were a teenager, for the Chinese? Cop or criminal, you’re in over your head. It’s time to come in.”

“My superiors decide that!” Mei insisted, spinning on him. “Not you!”

“Your superiors will keep working you until you’ve ended up with a bullet in the head. There are other ways. Better ways.”

“Like what?”

Robin kissed her suddenly, running his hot tongue into her mouth. Mei felt her paralyzing anger melt into lust, his body against hers, she felt him all over, loving his hard, lithe male body.

“You’ve been offering,” Robin said. “Allow me to take you up on that offer. The Golden Dragons are finished. When the cops get here, the drugs will be enough to put them all away for a very long time. Come with me. I’ve read your file, you’re One-Percent-Fertile. You marry me and all the outstanding warrants go away. You can live a normal life.”

“Cops?” Mei asked. “You ruin everything, I’ll never get close to the Triads—“

“You never would’ve,” Robin told her. “There was no big bust coming, no point where you’ve done your job and get to go home. You were a chit they kept around for the day they could sacrifice you for something. I can show you the files. They came close once or twice. They would’ve blown your cover and made you a martyr without a second thought.”

“I… no… this can’t be!”

Robin produced a card from his belt. “Think it over. There’s an number here. You can call me, when you’re ready.”

Then he kissed her again. She kept her eyes closed afterwards. When she opened them, he was gone.

***

Tim put a check next to Lynx’s name—the file on his laptop synced with the one on the Batcomputer containing his plan, so although he was in the kitchen of the apartment that had so recently been commandeered by Cass, Steph, and Pru in addition to his own bachelor pad needs, he might as well have been in the Batcave, doing the kind of work Bruce would be up to on a night like this.

He’d let the Golden Dragons linger for too long out of deference to Lynx, but he couldn’t keep giving her rope to hang herself with forever. They were ripe and now that they were off the scene, the gangland of Gotham had taken a serious hit. Not bad for a night’s work. He reviewed her hacked police files again, generously donated by Oracle, looking for any insight into which way Mei Wing’s wind would blow.

“So, this is what the fuck the crack team that foils Ra’s’s every plot does on a Friday night?” Pru asked, digging through his fridge for anything not macrobiotic. “Fucking homework?”

“It’s important to have a cohesive strategy,” Tim told her. “Can’t be stepping on Nightwing’s toes, or anyone else’s. The entire team’s been giving me leeway to handle Lynx, now I’ve handled it.”

Pru found a bottle of beer Dick had left over from the housewarming party. “Yeah, into Asian chicks, huh? You’re a total cliché.”

“It’s not like that,” Tim protested. “This would get her off the police’s radar without blowing her cover. And if you and Cass and Steph do all want to marry me…”

“You are fucking rich,” Pru pointed out.

Tim briefly inclined his head. “We need a cover story.”

‘Cover story?” Steph asked, coming in through the window, loosing her cape from her cowl and then losing the mask as well. Her purple body armor remained extremely flattering to a physique that didn’t need much flattering… “We’re hot, you’re a boy. Does this really need to be more thought out?”

“And how did we all meet?” Tim asked her. “I’m the playboy heir to the Wayne fortune—I’m supposed to marry a socialite, a model, an actress, not a few random, average citizens.”

“Thanks a lot!” Steph replied, hands on her hips.

“You know what I mean. Someone like Julie Madison. If people start asking how we all know each other, that could be a problem for our extracurricular activity.”

Steph sat on the kitchen table where Tim worked his laptop, swiping Pru’s beer from her. She drank and made a face at the bitterness. “Okay! So, what’s my smartypants boyfriend got up his sleeve? Something smart and pantsy?”

“He’s fucking pansy, alright,” Pru muttered.

“Is that what you thought…” Cass began, having entered the room as silently as a shadow being cast. “When you were… cumming?” She stumbled over the unfamiliar word. “Your brains out.”

Tim gaped at her. As did everyone else. For Cass wore not a stitch. Her body was not at all what one would expect, lithe and firm with muscles, scars crisscrossing it like graffiti on a priceless statue, yet these spots of garish ugliness were like beauty marks, not detracting from her sensuality. It was as if by sheer force of will, she blotted them from the mind, leading the eye instead to her supple limbs, her well-trained muscles, her sleek but succulent breasts. Her girlish, adorable face was somehow of a piece with this hardened, warrior’s body, her look fitting with how she carried herself: with supreme confidence, but no bravado or posturing. She was simply at peace.

“Steph,” Pru said softly, “were you and Cass telling secrets?”

“My costume was… sweaty,” Cass replied. “Going to take shower. What’s… the plan… anyway?”

Tim was lost at sea for a moment. Her body, with its unabashed, unashamed nudity, did more to arouse him than any pose or come-on. He wanted to go to her—to trip her that final inch into open sexuality, arouse her body the way it aroused, transform her nudity into something passionate and erotic. He forced himself to concentrate. “Well, we, uh, we, we, we hack the Gotham police files, give Cass and Pru records, retroactively insert the paperwork to get them released to me under the bride deal. And we’ll cover it with a few other women, no one crazy, people we can handle. Who’ve lost their way. It’ll look like I’m doing exactly what Bruce did, take advantage of the deal to, uh, to… with women.”

“How many other women?” Steph asked.

“Two…” Tim said, staring at Cass. “I mean, at least two.”

“They better be cute if they want on my squad.”

“And no one with a shaved head,” Pru added. “That’s my thing.” She sat down beside Tim. Under the table, she grabbed his thigh. “Told ya,” she whispered. “Asian chicks.”

“Quit it,” Tim whispered back, and moved to brush her hand away. She lifted it to avoid him, then settled it down upon his angry erection, full of hot blood. Pru grinned, feeling its contours tenting his pants.

“Why don’t you let me do something about that?” Pru mouthed, wagging her head mockingly.

Tim typed on the laptop to cover it. “I’ve already put out a feeler to Lynx… the second Lynx, that is…”

“Must’ve been a big feeler,” Steph said, looking to where Pru’s arm disappeared under the table.

“And there’s also the first Lynx, Ling—she’s in lock-up right here in Gotham. I can pay her a visit…”

“As Tim Drake,” Steph suggested. “With Batgirl accompanying you for protection.”

“That won’t be necessary—“

“If you’re picking out an ex-con trophy wife, I want to be there.” Steph clapped her hands together. “They might have Killer Frost! We should totally marry Killer Frost!”

“I think Tim likes the idea,” Pru said, stroking him a little more firmly.

“We should find a bigger place though,” Tim said, sweating now. “I’m a little tired of all of you squeezing into my room.”

“Not all of you is tired…”

“Cass and I can go house hunting,” Steph said. “It’s not that late. C’mon, Cass, let’s find you some pants.”

They disappeared out the door, Tim helpless not to follow Cass’s swaying buttocks with her eyes—Steph’s hand around her waist, almost touching them.

Pru scoffed. “Any interest in white girl pussy, or does it have to be sideways?”

Tim reached between her legs, cupping her cunt. Wet, right through her jeans. “You talk too much, Prudence.”

“Give me something better to do with my mouth?”

***

The watcher observed the purple one and the daughter of Lady Shiva as they left the apartment, then moved her gaze inward.

“Is he alone yet?” her sister asked.

“No. He is with the traitor. He is… making use of her.”

“His seed cannot be wasted! Move in. I want him now.”

***

Tim gripped her, squeezed, and she shot up, him catching her. They fell to the kitchen table together, barely missing Tim’s laptop, and Tim devoured her. Tongue in her mouth, hand soaking underneath her panties. With Steph, with Cass, there was a desire to be gentle and to make love. With Pru, he just wanted her. He groped her body as he liked, arousing her to his seething lust, his cock wetting her fingers as she jacked it. With her other hand she pulled at her own clothes, ripping herself out of them as Tim focused only on feeling her, using her. He took what she needfully gave to him, squeezing her tits, her ass, fingering her cunt again the moment she’d pulled her panties away from it. He didn’t give her his cock, though. He made her wait for it.

“Fucker, I’m ready!” she yelled at last. “I’m ready to fuck, goddamnit!”

She pulled his cock to her cunt and Tim surprised her by suddenly ramming forward, into her, so hard the table legs scraped across the floor. He started fucking her without missing a beat, no longer playing with her tits or clit, just driving himself into her again and again. Pru didn’t care. She liked getting fucked more than getting eaten, getting fingered, more than anything. And he was fucking her hard.

“Unhh, don’t stop!” Pru gurgled, throwing her head back against the breakfast table, rattling it as hard as Tim’s thrusts were doing. “Fuck me forever!”

Tim pistoned into her, making her slim body shake, nearly fucking her off the surface of the table. She clawed at its edges to keep in place as he fucked her harder, faster, moving into high gear. She could hardly wait to have him at his roughest.

“Yeah, fuck me hard, fuck meeee!” she whined.

Tim pounded her, getting rougher by the second. Pru was no longer able to taunt, no longer able to tease. She closed her eyes and waited for him to hammer her over the edge, bring her a meltdown of an orgasm, filling her cunt so full he would pour from her stuffed pussy and gush down her thighs.

“Gonna fucking come!” she said weakly. Teetering on the brink…

The click of a gun being cocked might not have been enough to bring Tim from his pleasure of her. But the click of two guns…

Tim pulled out of her, to Pru’s shock and disappointment. She’d been only seconds from coming, and now her body felt absolutely cold. She whirled around to stare at Tim, off the table, holding his hands up. She was furious.

“Fucker!” she followed his line of sight to the woman that had entered the room. “Fuck you too!”

Promise ignored her, save for the gun that covered Pru. “Will I have to deal with her?” she asked Tim, bemused to find him half-dressed in his Red Robin costume, his cock falling from his unzipped fly.

“No,” Tim said firmly. “Pru, get in the pantry.”

“Motherfucker, I should cut your dick off and—“

“Pru, it’s the Daughters of Acheron! You don’t mess with these people!”

“I know who the fuck they are, I was in the League of Assassins, bitches—“

Promise fired a quick, silenced round at Pru’s feet, missing her but sending shards of linoleum flying into her bare feet. Pru winced, but refused to give Promise the satisfaction of crying out. She hobbled to the pantry, its jar-lined cupboard as large as a walk-in closet, and gave Tim the finger as he closed the door behind her.

Promise was a lithe, toned woman, her body much the same as Pru’s, just as trim and well-honed a weapon. Tim had to admit, though, that the long brown hair that fell from Promise’s head made her a bit more tempting to him than Pru’s punkish, blunt demeanor and shaven head.

Promise gestured him away from the door, then drew a chair to it, leaning it underneath the doorknob. “If I hear anything from behind this door,” she said in a raised voice. ”I will fire through it. I have a lot of bullets, and you’re not that thin.”

“Fuck you, bitch, I’m on the Atkins Diet!”

Promise cocked her weapon again. “That will include vocal outbursts. Please, pretend you are gagged. You are familiar with the experience, yes?”

Inside the pantry, Pru was silent, but even that had an air of sullen loathing.

Tim’s hands were still up. “You mind if I put this away?” he asked Promise, nodding downward.

Promise’s eyes did not stray and give him the opening he was looking for. “No point,” she said. “Once before, my sister and I paid you a great honor. You were to continue the line of Ra’s al Ghul.”

Visions of a firm, effortlessly sexual body danced before Tim’s eyes. He’d tried not to look, but still, he remembered—he also remembered Russia, tracking Promise from her attempted assassination of Viktor Mikalek. Finding her taking a shower…

He’d tried not to look then, either. But as a detective, he noticed a lot of things without trying—and he had a good memory.

“A woman with your looks shouldn’t need a gun to find a man. Much less two.”

Promise scowled at him. She could follow his line of thought, his insinuation. “I will not bear your seed, much as you might like it—planting your little tracker on me, enjoying planting it on me…”

Pru was never going to let him hear the end of this.

***

Pru was standing naked in new boy toy’s pantry, listening to him talk with Promise—a distant ally of the League of Assassins, but one with the ear of Ra’s al Ghul, able to call upon the League’s resources at any time for any reason. Pru guessed the rumors were true—she was part of the Demon’s family, traveling the centuries with him, the ultimate honor.

What a cunt.

Then she heard a third voice. Tim’s, Promise’s, and another woman. Pru’s anger won out—she wanted to at least know who it was she was so pissed off at. Dropping to her belly, she looked under the door. She almost gasped aloud.

The newcomer she had seen very rarely, and never heard in all her years with the League. Her body statuesque and intimidating within her robes, golden dark, the alluring softness of a harem beauty rather than Promise’s soldiering leanness. Her hood and shawl of the same making as Ra’s garments, simply with a more feminine cut and coloring. Similar features to Promise, but a difference in heritage. Whereas Promise was wholly Slavic, this woman had some of the Middle East in her—the sharply pronounced heritage of Ra’s, of Talia, of Nyssa. Ra’s’s sister, it was said, with Promise her half-sister. Only a child of this newcomer would be in the lineage of Ra’s al Ghul.

“Once again, you are offered the opportunity to give the world the heir of the Demon. Seeing as you are so willing to breed with mongrels and traitors, you should be relieved that you are still considered a worthy suitor, and not merely killed for your audacity.”

“You’re going to kill me either way,” Tim pointed out. “All ethics aside, talk about performance anxiety.”

“There have been other considerations,” the woman said. “Your master, the detective, now consorts with those beneath his station and cannot be trusted with the privilege he is offered. That offer has now been withdrawn, and even now my nieces prepare his destruction. Thus, though you have spurned my offer before, I will be lenient and grant you this honor again.”

Tim scratched his chin. “So, uh… what if it doesn’t take?”

“Doesn’t… take?”

“The babymaking. Even if we go through all the ins and outs, so to speak, it’s not a guarantee you’re going to get pregnant. What if we have sex, you kill me, and then you’re still not pregnant? You’re out a suitor.”

The woman smiled. “You are valuable. Not indispensable. If your seed is not able to conquer my womb, another candidate will be found.”

“With Batman gone too? Seems like you’re going to be real short on heirs. That could be a problem, right? Give people ideas. I mean, Dr. Darhk alone…”

The woman gritted her teeth. “Do not speak his name to me!”

“Perhaps he has a point, sister,” Promise said. “He has proven himself formidable. Perhaps… other means of persuasion…”

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “You worry of ‘performance anxiety’? Very well. Give me your seed and I will spare your life until I am certain of a viable heir. Not just growing within me, but delivered into the world. That gives you at least nine months of life, enjoying the knowledge that you have birthed the future leader of the League of Assassins. Reasonable?”

“Fair enough,” Tim said. “And you leave Batman—“

“That is between him and my brother. I do not intrude in his affairs, as he does not interfere in mine. Only the greater dealings of the family bring us together. Now, do you accept my generous offer or will you die here, in this hovel, with your cow?”

Tim looked around. “I keep this place pretty tidy, you know, I hardly think it’s a hovel—“

Promise leveled her guns at him. “Answer her!”

“Alright, alright! But can I at least get your name?”

“My name?” the woman asked.

“I like to know little things like that when I’m sleeping with someone.”

“Miranda,” she answered. Then she disrobed, as simply as undoing the clasp of her robe. Her hood swooped off her head last, revealing her terrifyingly beautiful features—her hair was long and black, as black as her eyes, cupping a sensual face, black lips. “Now… give me a child.”

Tim looked down. “That might be a little difficult.”

“Difficult?” Miranda traced a hand over her body. “Here is my body, awaiting your seed. You are male, I am female. What is the difficulty?”

“Geez, lady, I don’t know, waving guns around and talking about killing people doesn’t really put me in the mood, I don’t know how it is in Eth Alth'eban…”

Miranda looked to Promise. “Prepare him.”

Promise was quick to obey, dropping to her knees, grasping his flaccid cock with an unsure hand, as if surprised it was really as large as it seemed, even limp. She raised it up, her glistening pink tongue shooting from her lips to lick his length. Tim thought she acted like was starving for it.

Straining his ears, he could hear her moan at the taste.

***

Pru didn’t know what the fuck to do. She’d never intended to spy on the most intimate, most secret affairs happening at the very highest level of the League of Assassins. But it wasn’t like she could leave the closet. And even if she didn’t watch, she’d still be able to hear that whore gobbling cock like she was at a fucking buffet. And she wasn’t about to stop watching. She was very curious to know how Ra’s al Ghul’s sister fucked.

She just didn’t know how she could record this shit without her phone. Shame. Steph would’ve loved to see this going down.

***

Tim’s gaze shifted to Miranda, who looked on impassively as her half-sister licked Tim to hardness. Her hot little tongue was all over his shaft, racing up and down it, coating his growing hardness in warm saliva. Miranda noticed him watching her, eyes tracing her body, adding to his lust as Promise attended him. He seemed to have forgotten all about Pru stashed in the pantry.

As Tim’s cock swelled and stiffened, Promise licked even faster, soon shocked to find a pillar of engorged flesh challenging her tongue. Thick gobs of precum ran from his cockhead, and Promise lapped up the salty liquid with hungry gurgles. Tim petted her hair and Promise looked up angrily at him, which only caused his substantial prick to flop down across her face, sticking to her from chin to hairline. She pulled away from it and it bobbed up, rock hard, taunting her.

She licked her lips, slickening them, then slid her mouth down Tim’s huge, hard cock.

“You don’t let her get out much, do you?” Tim asked Miranda, now fully leering at her nudity.

“Our vengeance against Mikalek must take precedent…”

“Not tonight,” Tim groaned. “Tonight, it’s all about this cock…” He looked down into Promise’s eyes. “Isn’t it?”

Her mouth ratcheting up and down his cock looked a lot like nodding.

***

Pru felt saliva dripping down her chin and found that she was drooling.

She wasn’t jealous of Promise. She didn’t care who Tim fucked. She was just turned on, watching him fuck another woman. Hearing the lewd, wet sucking of her nominal superior at the League of Assassins now eating dick. It was enough to make her play with herself.

She didn’t think she could take the risk, though. She got pretty noisy, jilling off, and Tim was pissing those stuck-up bitches off enough that they’d take any excuse to ventilate her. She’d wait until they left. Then she’d have Tim all to herself.

***

“That’s enough, Promise,” Miranda said haughtily, observing her sucking lips spread wider and wider by Tim’s growing cock. “I said that’s enough!”

Promise pulled away from Tim’s spit-soaked column, watching it stand at attention, her eyes wide. It had felt gigantic in her mouth, her throat, but she’d had no idea it was really so big. “Oh God,” she muttered, staring. Imagining how gigantic it would feel elsewhere…

Miranda stepped past her, grabbing Tim and pulling him into a kiss. “Useless whelp,” she said, staring down at Promise as Tim’s body molded to hers. She impatiently rubbed her wet cunt at Tim’s stiffly standing cock. “I should let him have your ass, that way—“

Tim grabbed her sensuously rounded waist, fingers sinking into the soft flesh, and pulled himself into her hungry, hot cunt. Miranda’s head fell back, her eyes rolling, feeling him ease into her further and further. She moaned and gurgled with ecstasy as he crammed her needy sex.

“You should let me have her ass,” Tim said, “after I’m done with you…”

Then he began to thrust.

***

Pru’s molten juices ran down her thighs as she watched. She didn’t even have to touch herself. It just happened. Tim had backed Miranda into the refrigerator, hoisting her up so that she was straddling him as he thrust into her, starting her off in a slow, sinuous way that had her whimpering with delight.

Pru knew just how she felt. She lay there and watched and felt dizzy with lust. Watching people fuck was almost as exciting as doing it. And now, the urge to play with herself was truly irresistible…

She could keep quiet if she tried, she knew she could. She reached down to her clit, sliding her index finger over the throbbing button—felt so damned good—she was wild with need. She had to come or she’d scream.

***

Promise undressed. Watching Tim fuck her sister, it just seemed the natural thing to do. She dropped her clothes carelessly on the floor, though neither Tim nor Miranda noticed her nakedness. Only Pru did, thinking what a beautiful body she had, fashion-model slim, but curved in all the right places, tits the size of apples riding high and firm. They jiggled only slightly as she walked to where Tim had her sister plastered against the refrigerator door like a good report card.

“You’re fucking her good,” she whispered in Tim’s ear. “I can tell. Fuck her as hard as you can. She needs it.”

Pru reddened. She’d said pretty much the same thing to Tim just minutes ago. He was fucking one horny bitch after another. It was a good thing for the League of Assassins that he was so well-hung. What would the roll call do without him and his tireless cock?

Slowly, Tim began to use faster strokes as he fucked upward into Miranda, making her bounce up and down on his cock. Her large breasts flew now, bounding with every thrust, jiggling until they blurred at the edges.

“Yes,” Promise panted, “fuck her. Good and hard.”

Miranda was still carefully silent. She almost didn’t squeal. Her lips buttoned shut as cream poured from her reamed sex. Promise could smell it. So could Pru. She rubbed herself in perfect time to his fucking.

Pru’s index finger drilled into her wildly throbbing clit, her other hand rubbing fitfully at her pussy, a steady buzz of pleasure. She reminded herself to keep perfectly quiet when she came. If Miranda could do it, so could she.

“Is that what you want, Miranda?” Tim asked, still bouncing her atop his cock. “To be fucked hard?”

Miranda stared imperiously at him, her face carefully composed.

Tim began to slow.

“No, you bastard!” Miranda grasped his shoulders in her hands, digging her fingernails into him. “Fuck me! Make me come!”

Tim moved into overdrive, fucking her so hard she could’ve been riding a bucking bronco. Miranda rocked up and down, groaning helplessly now, her dark face turning red. Her eyes closed tight as Tim brought her close to the orgasm she needed so much. Then he reached down between them, feeling out her clit with his fingers, kneading it expertly. Miranda vibrated with pleasure, growling deep in her throat as she held in her satisfaction. She soaked his fingers with her orgasm.

“That’s great!” Promise cheered, watching and standing so closely that she felt Tim’s ass brush against her every time he pulled from Miranda. “Keep doing it!”

Miranda was in no position to disagree, Tim hammering himself into her squirting cunt, rolling her swollen clit between his fingers like he’d done it a thousand times. And Pru watched as breathlessly as Promise was. Unlike her, though, she felt free to rub her clit like crazy.

She was right on the verge of climax, and again she reminded herself not to make a sound. But as she entered herself with her fingers, rubbing her clit from both inside and out, she just couldn’t help herself. She felt a wail of ecstasy rising from her throat. “Oh, God, unnnhhhh!”

But she was in luck. At that exact moment, Miranda came again. And this time, she couldn’t deny how good it was. She drowned Pru out with a blissful cry. “Oooooooh, FUCK, SHIT, HOLY FUCK, HOLY SHIT!” she babbled. “FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME!”

“Tim, you did it!” Promise cried shrilly, sounding orgasmic herself as Tim fucked Miranda through her body-wracking climax.

It was all his now. He burned all over, his body at ecstatic heights as he pulled high and close to his own moment. He kissed Miranda hotly, swallowing her surprised scream as pleasure gripped his body like a fist, all his flesh locking up tight with need, with energy, with sudden power. With a wounded grunt, he held himself at that ecstatic peak. Then it was over, dizzyingly over. He felt leaps of pleasure as his body relaxed into her, all his tension poured out from his loins, propelled into Miranda. So much, a sea of cum running in throbs from him. Miranda clung to him weakly, his hands stronger, gripping her tightly to his belly as he filled her with all his virility, pouring every drop deep, deep into her belly. Miranda’s eyes fluttered in surprise as she felt him shoot inside her again and again, echoes of satisfaction battering her to and fro like a cat with a toy.

“How can there be so much?” she asked, voice fading as she sank down on top of him, panting for breath that she finally found in long, slow inhalations.

Tim carried her from the refrigerator, her sweat-slick skin peeling off it, and laid her on the table. She was out cold. Promise looked from her warmly satisfied body to the still-stiff cock that Tim pulled out of her.

“You know,” she said, “if you were to fuck me in the ass, there’d be no children. No pretenders to the throne. And… and… you should really fuck me in the ass.”

Appropriately enough, that was when someone started pounding at the backdoor. Promise hurried to Miranda, trying to shake her awake, but Miranda only moaned and kept sleeping.

“She must be hidden!” Promise said. “The family affairs of the Demon’s Head cannot be known!”

Tim mulled it over. “Well, there is somewhere…”

As he walked to the pantry, Pru tried desperately to wipe her wet fingers off on her naked body.