Apocalypse King: Recruiting S-Tier Beauties With My Ruler System
Chapter 54: The Moment After - First Blow [R18]

Chapter 54: The Moment After - First Blow [R18]

March 17th, 20xx, 01:15 am.

—

The apartment became quiet when we returned.

No gunfire or shouting. Just the soft click of the locks sliding back into place.

Qinglan stepped in first. Her bat leaned lazily across her shoulder, her steps unhurried. Dried blood on her cheek. Her jacket hung open, revealing a glimpse of her collarbone, pale and flushed. Her fingers brushed along the edge of the bedroom door, holding it for a moment before heading inside.

I followed her in silence—neither of us spoke after returning.

The smell inside felt different now—sweat, smoke, alcohol and faint metal. And underneath it. That warm, jasmine-salt scent that hadn’t left my mouth since Qinglan kissed me.

She let the bat fall. It hit the floor with a muffled clunk. She didn’t look at it.

Instead, she walked towards the centre of the room, her boots landing softly on the wood, while gazing back at me, with her lips slightly parted.

She stopped at the bed, turned, and sat on the edge.

Her thighs parted slightly, just enough.

"I haven’t forgotten," she said in a smooth, soothing voice.

Her fingers reached up, and with a snap she untied her hair. I watched on the spot as her hair fell across her shoulders in a slow, cascading wave. The glossy raven strands shimmering in the moonlight.

We both watched each other in silence.

Then... she tilted her head.

"Well?" she whispered. "Or do you only know how to shoot?"

Finally, I stepped forward.

The Type-9K vanished from my back in a flick of motion, stored in my inventory.

I crossed the room slowly until the space between us disappeared.

Qinglan reached up first, fingers twisting my shirt, dragging me forward by the collar and forcing me to her level.

Her lips brushed mine, softer this time.

The kiss deepened slowly, her tongue slipping past my lips again, warm, wet, tasting faintly of copper and her breath. She moaned just barely, her thighs shifting against mine, the heat between them unmistakable.

She pulled back, eyes half-lidded. Her cheeks flushed deeper, her lips swollen from the earlier kisses.

"Now," she whispered, "take your time."

Qinglan’s fingers slid under the hem of my shirt and dragged it upward, deliberately testing my reactions.

The fabric lifted across my stomach, grazing my already tightening muscles. Mu Qinglan’s eyes lingered on my chest as she peeled away slowly... one button at a time, like unwrapping something dangerous.

When she put it over my head, she tossed it behind her without looking.

Her fingertips came back next—bare skin on bare skin. She traced along my ribs, following the dip of my abdomen, her touch like warm fears brushing along me. She paused just above the waistband of my pants, her thumb grazing the edge.

I could feel her breath on my stomach, shallow at first but growing faster.

Mu Qinglan leaned forward and opened her mouth, and kissed the centre of my chest. It felt warm, wet... and tickled, making my muscles tighten from my thighs to my abdomen.

Then lower.

Then kissed me again, just below the sternum.

Then lower still.

Her hands grasped my hips as she slid off the bed and knelt between my legs, and flicked out her tongue once, tasting the skin just above the button of my pants.

She looked up at me, and her voice came out with a breathy sigh. "Still no moving?"

"Waiting," I said. "You told me to."

Her lips curled slightly.

"Good."

Qinglan struggled with the button for a second before flicking it open... the zipper followed, a slow but loud sound in the silent room.

My breath caught in my throat.

I exhaled through my nose, the pressure against my groin finally easing.

My cock, already hard, strained against the now-loosened fabric. I didn’t look down—I looked at her eyes. They were focused, just slightly glassy.

Her eyes lowered when she reached inside, and her breath caught softly.

When her fingers wrapped around me—bare, skin to skin—my whole body jerked.

"Ah—fuck..."

The word slipped out before I could stop it.

She stilled.

I felt her breath catch again.

Then she dragged me out, slowly, deliberately—exposing my swollen cock to the air, to her gaze, to her hands.

I heard her inhale sharply, a subtle sniff.

Her reaction wasn’t loud.

It was quieter.

She just stared.

A flush bloomed across her cheeks. Her lips parted. Her eyes flicked from the tip down to the base.

She exhaled, just barely.

"...You weren’t lying," she whispered.

Her thumb brushed the underside, slow, dragging up the thick length, then circled the tip where my precum already beaded and smeared onto her delicate fingers.

She let out a soft, almost reverent sound. "Oh..."

My breath came sharply through my nose.

"Shit," I muttered, voice low, tight.

Her fingers curled more tightly, and she gave a slow, deliberate stroke from base to top. Then again. Then again.

My hips tensed beneath her hand.

Every motion made my thighs tense. My fingers clenched at the edge of the bed.

She leaned in, her voice a murmur. "Tell me when you can’t take it anymore."

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t have to.

She leaned in—tongue out, breath hot—and kissed the head.

A shiver ran straight down my spine.

Her tongue flicked across the slit. Licked it clean, my precum now smeared on that soft pink tongue flattened against the crown and dragging downward, leaving a hot, wet sheen behind.

She exhaled against it... A warm, humid air made it swell further, and then wrapped her lips around just the tip.

"Fuck," I whispered, low.

Her eyes flicked up at the sound.

She sank lower.

An inch.

Another.

Her warm mouth tightened, tongue shifting as she moved. Her cheeks hollowed slightly with every pull. The wet, obscene sound of her sucking filled the room—slow, deliberate, hungry.

Her fingers gripped tighter around the base, stroking in rhythm.

I groaned, deep in my chest. "You’re going to kill me..."

She pulled off with a wet pop, her tongue curling to taste me again before she swallowed.

"Not yet," she murmured.

Then she took me deeper.

More confident now, more pressure, her throat flexing slightly around the tip as she bobbed her head, slow and steady.

My hand moved instinctively, slipping into her hair.

Qinglan’s eyes shone, as my hands grabbed her glossy raven locks tight, and... I wanted to mess up that pretty little face.

She hummed in her throat, and the vibration rippled through me like heat in a fuse.

I looked down at her—her mouth full, eyes dark, saliva beginning to drip from the corner of her lips.

And that’s when I stopped holding back.

My hand slipped into her hair.

Her mouth stayed wrapped around the head of my cock, warm and soft and wet, her lips parted just wide enough to take me in.

She sucked gently—barely moving. Just her tongue, swirling under the crown, slow, smooth, lazy.

My stomach tensed.

She pulled back, not with a pop, but a slide, dragging her lips along the length, tongue gliding after it like she didn’t want to let go. Saliva clung to the tip in a glistening strand as she sat back, breathing heavier now.

She licked her lips, eyes locked on me. Her voice came soft. "Was that too slow?"

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled—not hard, just enough to let her feel it.

"Open," I said, voice low.

Her eyes flicked up, and without hesitation, she parted her lips wider, tilting her chin up, submission written in the soft flush of her cheeks and the way her knees pressed tighter together.

I eased forward, pushing deeper into her mouth.

Her eyes widened—just a flicker—before her lips parted again automatically, welcoming.

I pushed forward.

She moaned before I even hit the back of her throat.

"Yeah," I muttered, breath low. "Open wider."

My grip tightened in her hair, holding her right where I wanted her. I rolled my hips, sliding deeper. Saliva spilled from the corners of her lips, dribbling down her chin as I began to fuck her mouth in slow, deliberate thrusts.

Her hands flew to my thighs, holding me, but she didn’t push.

Gluck—slrk—shhhhk—

The room was full of obscene sounds.

"Good girl," I muttered under my breath, not even sure if I meant to say it out loud.

Her eyes fluttered.

I thrust again, this time deeper. Her throat clenched hard around me, and she gagged again, spit bubbling around my shaft. She was drooling now—completely, shamelessly—wet streaks dripping down her chin, pooling on her collarbone.

I pulled back just far enough to let Qinglan breathe.

She gasped for air, spit trailing from her bottom lip, pupils blown wide with heat.

"More," she whispered, voice hoarse. "Don’t hold back."

Her entire mouth glugged and stretched, messy and obscene, strings of spit glueing us together. Every time I thrust, she took it. All of it, wrapping me tight and gagging softly with hollowed cheeks.

My balls tightened.

"Fuck, I’m close..."

Her eyes watching me, lips narrowing each time I throbbed in her hot, slippery mouth.

I thrust harder, unable to stop myself, the pleasure of her mouth turning my brain white.

And I came.

I buried myself in her throat, cock pulsing deep, thick spurts flooding her mouth all at once. I could feel her attempting to gulp—then choke—then gulp again, her throat fluttering around me as I emptied myself down her gullet.

But there was too much.

Cum spilled from the sides of her lips, overflowing from her nose, running down her chin, over her tongue, dripping into the valley of her breasts.

Her mascara ran in thin streaks.

Her nose was wet and glistening.

And I wasn’t done.

I pulled out with a loud pop, dragging thick ropes of spit and seed with me.

She gasped—mouth wide open, tongue still out.

White fluid coated her lips, streaked down her face, stuck to her lashes and chin.

I grabbed my cock and stroked once—hard.

The last spurt landed right across her cheekbone, splashing across her skin, streaking her cheek, her nose, her lips.

She blinked.

Then opened her mouth wider.

Swallowed.

And smiled.

Her voice was hoarse, eyes glazed with pleasure. "So... was that good enough?"

I looked at her—hair wrecked, face painted, mouth dripping.

And my cock twitched again.

"You’re perfect," I said.

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