Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 52: How Would That Even Fit...

Chapter 52: How Would That Even Fit...

Her lips pressed into mine, warm, damp and slightly parted. The first brush was soft, almost unsure, but the second... she opened a little wider, her breath spilling into my mouth, human and sweet with the faint taste of cherry and skin.

Not a perfume, but her scent, slightly salty and slightly warm.

But intoxicating.

When she kissed me back, it was slow, uncertain, but warm. She kept missing the centre of my mouth, sliding off to the side before finding her way again, like she wanted more but didn’t want to look too eager.

I could feel the hesitation in her breath, each one blowing into my lips like a quiet gasp she didn’t mean for me to catch.

"Don’t stop..." she whispered, barely audible, her voice breathless, lips brushing mine with every word. "I like it like this..."

Mu Qinglan sighed into the kiss, and her mouth slowly slipped open.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Her tongue peeked out hesitantly. She traced along my bottom lip like she was memorising its shape. The sensation was warm and wet and unbearably tender—just a single slow drag that made my spine arch with need.

I shuddered. "Qinglan..."

Her eyes flickered open halfway.

Just a glance. Just enough for me to see how dark they looked.

And then—softly—she kissed me again. Her tongue slipped between my lips—slow, wet, exploratory. It glided across my tongue, shy at first, then deeper. She tasted like warm air and jasmine sweat, like breath shared through the mouth.

Mu Qinglan clutched the back of my neck, trembling slightly as she deepened the kiss. Her thighs shifted, pressing against mine, and I felt the heat of her body radiate through her clothes, thick, aching, close. Long fingers slid further into my hair, not pulling but holding tight, her palms warm against my scalp.

Our tongues tangled again. This time slower, more deliberate. Mu Qinglan’s tongue curled along mine, dragging, sticky. Saliva pooled between us, warm and slick.

She pulled back a little—just enough to breathe. Our mouths still touched like two marshmallows melting together. Her breath hit my lips in soft, trembling pants. I could feel the saliva from her tongue still clinging to my bottom lip.

Her voice came out low, raspy. "Again," she whispered.

Then her mouth opened again—this time hungrier. She sucked on my bottom lip, slow and firm, her tongue flicking across it. Her hips shifted slightly forward, and I felt the pressure of her against me. Soft. Damp. Insistent.

I didn’t move.

I let her take the lead while learning, observing each touch, taste and movement.

My goal was to learn what she liked, to use it.

For now, I just enjoyed it all.

She pulled back only far enough to speak, her voice a breath. "Don’t move yet... I want to feel you like this. Just this."

I nodded once, barely afraid to break the moment and this feeling of delicate balance of her breath against mine.

Mu Qinglan leaned in again, slower this time.

Her lips brushed mine without closing, like she was dragging heat across me. Her tongue flicked out first, tasting, teasing. Then she kissed me—fully, deliberately, sealing our mouths together like she didn’t want to come up for air.

Her breath caught when I moved just slightly, tilting my head, pressing in a little deeper. I gave her my tongue slowly, gradually, and carefully met hers. The contact was soft and wet, her tongue wrapping around mine, then retreating with a pop. I followed.

She whimpered.

I inhaled through my nose, and her scent filled me. Fresh skin, sweet heat, just under the surface. A trace of soap and something muskier, sticky between us now. The smell of her body reacting.

I moved my hand, finally... just enough to slide my fingers along her waist, under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot, damp, and silky. I didn’t push further. Just held her there, letting her tremble from my touch.

Mu Qinglan’s nose snorted, her kiss becoming more aggressive.

Her tongue circled mine, slow and wet, dragging across every inch. I sucked gently on it, just once—and her hips jerked forward, pressing the damp heat between her legs firmly against me.

She pulled back with a gasp, mouth glossy with spit.

"Like that..." she whispered, and kissed me again before I could speak.

This time, she moaned into my mouth, hips rolling slowly against mine. Her thighs tightened. I felt the damp spot where her crotch touched mine, pressed right against the ridge growing beneath my zipper.

A dull ache was building, tight and pulsing.

I deepened the kiss, moving with her now, guiding her rhythm with the curve of my palm against her waist, tracing the tension in her lower back with my thumb.

She broke the kiss again, panting. "Touch me slower. Don’t rush..."

Her lips brushed mine as she said it.

Qinglan didn’t speak. Her breaths were quick and shallow, with lips slightly parted and eyes locked on mine as if she had decided something.

Then... without a word, she pushed me down.

My back hit the bed, sinking into the soft mattress.

She rolled onto me, her knees sinking into the mattress, her thighs around my waist. Her palms pressed to my chest, fingers spread wide like she was memorising the shape beneath my black shirt.

I didn’t move.

I waited.

Her hands slid down slow. Across my ribs, over my stomach. Down to the band of my pants.

When her fingers brushed the outline of me, she froze.

She blinked once, then looked down, mouth parting just slightly. Her hand moved again, pressing fully against me this time.

"...What the hell..." she whispered.

Her palm moved along the length, and she sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"You’re—" her voice faltered, eyes flicking up to meet mine. "—Are you kidding me?"

I exhaled with a smirk. "Something wrong?"

She shook her head slowly, as if she hadn’t heard the question. "This... this isn’t normal."

Her fingers closed over me, slowly testing the shape, the girth. Her breath grew shallower. "Is this... how are you even hiding this? It’s—"

She bit her lip.

"...No one in the empire is built like this."

I didn’t speak.

It was a fact and something I couldn’t help but thank my father for.

I just watched the way her lips parted again and how her cheeks flushed a deeper red the more she touched me and stared like she didn’t quite believe what she was holding.

Her hand moved up and down with a slow, feather-light pressure.

She leaned in close to my neck, her voice barely more than a breath. "How would that even fit..."

Sometimes Qinglan’s awkward actions were more seductive than she could imagine, as I swallowed the saliva in my throat.

"Let me find out," she whispered.

My words seemed to trigger something in her as she narrowed her eyes like a viper striking, and she kissed me. Much harder and passionate than before. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, wet, sticky and desperate.

Her hand continued stroking, slower but each movement drawing a reaction, like she wanted to feel it twitching against her palm and memorise the weight and shape of it.

I groaned into her mouth, almost unable to hold back anymore.

Then—Crack.

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