Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 116: Taming the Ice Queen [R18]

Chapter 116: Taming the Ice Queen [R18]

John (POV)

March 18th, 20xx — 3:23 PM

Zone 3A-Δ – Tenth Floor — Jiang Roulan’s Apartment

———

Her top slipped over her head.

She stood bare above the waist — pale, scarred, flawless in the way only women who fight to live are. Her chest rose with each breath, nipples already firm from the cold and the adrenaline, her skin flushed along the collarbone.

I looked down at her, realising just how much smaller she was.

Then I stepped forward.

She barely had time to react before I wrapped my hands around her hips and gently turned her.

Her back met the edge of the soft chair behind her — the one I’d dropped into earlier. It wasn’t much, but it supported her well enough.

"Sit back. Relax."

Then I knelt in front of her.

She looked at me with wide eyes, her pupils dilating and her mouth half open, breathing growing unsteady.

"Don’t move."

I pushed her thighs open, slowly but firm, so she didn’t press back.

She let them fall apart under my palms, breath catching as the cooler air hit her skin.

Her shorts slid down with a single tug. No resistance.

And she was already wet.

Not dripping. Not obscene. Just soft, swollen, flushed — the kind of arousal that built over time and brewed in Qinglan’s abdomen while she fought to stay angry.

I leaned forward.

Her scent hit me first — sharp and clean, like heated metal and salt and something faintly sweet beneath it, the flavour of her skin.

Then came the warmth.

My breath brushed her inner thigh. She jerked slightly, fingers digging into the arms of the chair.

When I licked her — one slow, deliberate drag from her opening to her clit — her hips twitched.

"J-John—"

Her gasping voice made my spine tingle... the qi in my stomach pulsing from our resolution... when we returned from hell, I bought a meditation technique for Mu Qinglan.

An ice-type that would help improve her survival rate.

The Ice Orchid Sutra was a mirror to my Titan’s marrow... her ice would lower her internal temperature, reduce pain, and make her body emit a sweet scent.

"Quiet."

I said it without cruelty.

Then did it again.

Longer this time.

My tongue pressed firmly into her folds, parted her just enough to taste the heat rising from inside her. She tasted like sweat and something deeper — primal, womanly, alive.

She whimpered.

I shifted my grip, sliding my hands beneath her thighs to pull her closer. Her ass barely stayed on the edge of the chair now, thighs wide, pussy glistening under the light that spilled from the window.

I licked her again — this time circling her clit with the flat of my tongue, then flicking it gently with the tip.

Mu Qinglan’s breath came fast.

She tried to hold it in.

But she was unravelling.

"F-Fuck..."

Her voice cracked.

I kissed her again — not her lips, but the soft flesh just above her entrance. Suckled lightly. Let my breath roll over the wetness there until her hips started grinding into my face.

She tasted like salted honey.

She smelled like sweet and tarty yoghurt.

Every shiver that passed through her thighs, I felt against my palms.

And I didn’t stop.

Didn’t rush.

I made her feel it.

One slow swirl at a time.

Her thighs trembled.

Not violently — just enough that I could feel it in the way her muscles clenched under my hands. The kind of tremble that only comes from someone trying not to let go. Fighting it.

Even now, Mu Qinglan resisted.

Even with my tongue buried between her folds, lips sealed against her clit, slow circles dragging small gasps from her throat — she tried to hold back.

But I wasn’t giving her the choice.

"Don’t run from it," I murmured against her.

She twitched. "I-I’m not—"

I pushed two fingers inside her.

She choked on her next breath.

Tight. Slick. So warm I could’ve melted into Qinglan. Her walls clenched around my fingers immediately, fluttering with each pulse of pressure. I angled upward — just slightly — and the moan that left her throat was closer to a cry than a word.

I didn’t tease anymore.

I fucked her with my fingers while I licked her clit, slow and steady, curling upward with every thrust until I felt her legs stiffen, her breath catch again, her heels scraping against the floor.

Mu Qinglan’s head fell back against the top of the chair.

Her hands weren’t gripping the armrests anymore.

They gripped my hair.

Tight.

Desperate.

Pulling me closer, like she couldn’t decide whether she wanted me to stop or keep going forever.

"J-John...!"

Her voice cracked again. This time, sharper and raw.

"I— I’m—!"

Her walls clenched around my fingers the moment they entered — like her body was already begging, even if her mind hadn’t given up yet. I angled upward, curling deep. Her voice cracked — a high, breathless moan, sharper than before.

But I didn’t let her finish.

Not yet.

I pulled my fingers halfway out. The soft, slippery sensation of Qinglan’s wet folds dragging against my fingers made me aroused.

The throbbing beat of her heart felt as I slipped back inside her swollen, flushed pussy.

She gasped — her hips twitching.

Then again.

Deeper. Rougher. Faster.

My fingers curled perfectly with every motion, dragging across that soft spot inside her over and over. Her thighs trembled. Her breath hitched. Her whole body pressed back against the chair like she was trying to escape, even as her hips rolled to meet every thrust.

Her hands clawed at the seat.

Then she let out a high, trembling cry.

"J-John—!"

And I stopped.

My fingers froze inside her, tears forming in her eyes.

Her body bucked, desperate — needy — but I held her there, just shy of the edge, my other hand pressing against her stomach to pin her down.

"Not yet," I said quietly.

She whimpered.

Her walls pulsed around my fingers, clenching hard, still wet and needy, begging for the final push.

But I didn’t give it.

Instead, I leaned in — my mouth brushing her inner thigh.

"You feel that?" I whispered. "That edge you’re hanging on?"

She nodded, breathless.

"That’s mine."

She bit her lip.

"Your pussy’s mine. Your orgasm’s mine. And you too..." I thrust my fingers in again, once, hard, making her cry out. "You don’t get to cum until I say so."

Her hips jerked.

Her body shook.

But she obeyed.

Even when her voice cracked, she didn’t beg. Not yet.

I slipped out with a pop while sucking on her clit, coating it in drool, flicking softly over it with my tongue, making her twitch again and again.

"You’re worried about the others," I said, breath warm against her slit. "About Roulan. About Mei. About whoever else wants to crawl into my lap."

She didn’t answer. Just panted.

"Let them."

Another sharp flick of my tongue.

I shoved my fingers deeper.

"You’re the one I make scream."

Her mouth fell open. No sound came out.

"You’re the one I want to break every night before I sleep."

Another thrust. A curl. She was writhing now.

"You’re the one I’d fuck all night until swollen and raw if I lost control."

She shuddered. Her back arched.

"And you love it."

Her hands gripped my shoulders. Her thighs locked around my head.

But I stopped again.

"Say it," I whispered against her soaked folds. "Say it’s mine."

She trembled — voice shaking — lips parted.

Each time I scolded her, or spoke dirty Qinglan’s silky folds clenched down on me, her pussy tightening like a hand desperate to keep me close.

"...It’s yours."

Her voice cracked. Vulnerable. Unmistakably real.

"I’m yours..."

I licked her again.

And this time, I didn’t plan to stop or edge her.

Her voice barely finished the words before I plunged back inside with a lewd, wet squelch, my fingers curling against her soft walls.

She was soaking wet and trembling — her thighs clamped tight around my shoulders like she was holding herself together with sheer will.

But she couldn’t.

Not now.

Not after that.

Not after saying it.

My tongue pressed flat against her clit as I fucked her with my fingers — deeper, faster — curling up with every thrust, hammering into that spot that made her whimper and cry and twitch like she was on the edge of tearing in two.

Her hands clutched my hair. Her moans weren’t words anymore — just sounds, desperate, high, caught between sobs and screams.

"J-John—!"

Her hips bucked wildly.

I pinned her down harder, mouth sealed around her clit, sucking rhythmically as I fucked her with three fingers now — no mercy, no pause, just brutal, focused pressure building inside her like a dam about to snap.

And then—

She broke.

Her whole body convulsed, legs kicking once, back arching violently.

"Ah—ahhh! F-fuck—!"

She squirted.

Hot liquid gushed over my fingers, splashing down my wrist and chin, her inner walls fluttering around nothing as she came harder than I’d ever seen her — raw, uncontrolled, helpless.

The sound she made was wild.

Like her soul was being torn out through her mouth.

She didn’t just cum — she spilled herself for me.

Every inch of her face flushed. Her arms trembled. Her legs quivered on either side of my face, twitching with aftershocks, as the last waves of her climax rippled through her body in sharp, aching pulses.

She collapsed into the chair, gasping, arms limp.

Soaked.

Shaking.

Eyes dazed.

And I didn’t move.

I stayed kneeling between her legs, licking the mess off my fingers, my mouth, slowly — enjoying the sigh of Mu Qinglan looking so weak and defeated.

Like sealing the contract.

Her eyes fluttered open, barely focused.

"...You really... meant it..."

I kissed her inner thigh.

"Every word."

And finally, she looked at me, and Mu Qinglan smiled. She looked at me like she didn’t know whether to kill me... while covered in sweat, and panting... or maybe she would climb into my lap and never leave.

But I knew what she would choose.

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