My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines

Cruxius watched her—her lips swollen, her throat bulging slightly as she fought to take more of him. Her eyes stayed locked on his, glassy with tears, shimmering with that sickening, sacred blend of shame and need that only she could wear like this.

He wanted more.

No—he wanted everything.

And she had it to give.

With a slow, calculated movement, he pulled back, letting his cock slide free of her mouth with a wet pop that left her gasping, lips slick and parted, strings of saliva connecting her mouth to his length.

But only for a moment.

Because before she could inhale fully, before she could ask what was next—

He climbed up.

Straddled her face.

Knees planted on either side of her head.

And then—he lowered himself.

Balls-deep.

His thick shaft dropped back into her mouth with a wet thud, the weight of it pushing past her lips again, heavier now, his balls settling onto her chin and throat as he seated himself fully, completely, right on her face.

She whimpered under him.

Muffled and raw.

"Mmhhghh!"

Her lips stretched to the base, her jaw aching, her tongue pinned flat as he rocked gently, testing how deep he could go without her pulling away. Her hands flew up instinctively to grab his thighs, but he caught her wrists with one hand and pressed them back down against the sheets.

"Stay," he growled. "You wanted to love a monster. So let me wear you like one."

And then—he moved again.

Not just his hips.

His whole body shifted, turned with dark grace, leaning down—until his face hovered above her slick, swollen folds.

Her thighs trembled beneath him, parted instinctively when she felt his breath ghost across her skin. His free hand grabbed her knee, yanking it further open. His other hand still held her wrists pinned.

Her pussy was still sore.

Still glistening.

Still leaking the mess he'd made earlier.

And it only made her more vulnerable—more ready.

He licked his lips.

Then lowered his head.

And sucked.

Directly.

Cruelly.

"HHhnnnghh!"

Her muffled cry exploded around his shaft—deep and trembling, coated in desperation. Lips sealed, throat vibrating, she moaned again. Louder.

"Guuhhnn! Mmn—mmmh!"

Lips sealing over her clit, his tongue flicked like a whip, fast and wet and merciless. Her entire body jolted under him, a choked moan vibrating around his cock, which only spurred him on.

She let out another muffled cry—wet, high-pitched, swallowed by the thick shaft stuffing her throat. Her moan vibrated through him, making his cock twitch as her lips sucked tighter around the base.

He didn't stop.

Didn't give her time to breathe or brace.

He licked her like he owned her.

Like she wasn't just his woman—but his addiction.

His tongue dragged between her folds, lapping up her taste, her filth, the creamy slick that spilled from her hole. He groaned against her pussy, the vibration sending lightning straight through her core.

"MMmmmhhhh—hahkkk!"

Her body twitched violently beneath him, and a long, guttural moan escaped her throat—muted, wet, trembling. The sound shuddered around his cock, making his hips stutter forward slightly.

And still—he fucked her mouth.

His hips rolled slow but heavy, shaft dragging across her tongue with each thrust, the wet slap of his balls against her throat punctuating every motion. She gagged again, her throat clenching as his cock blocked her airway, but she didn't stop.

He only paused long enough to say, breathless against her folds:

"You taste like sin."

Then he buried his face in her again, tongue plunging deeper this time, flicking up against the soft fluttering entrance that clenched around nothing, begging without words.

She was crying now.

Tears spilling sideways from the corners of her eyes, soaking into the sheets as she moaned around him—deep, strangled sounds that bordered on sobbing.

Her voice came out thick, barely there, coated with saliva and cock, every noise she made trapped in her throat and forced to echo up into him.

"HHnnhhhg! Mmmmfffhhh! Fhuugghhh—!"

And still—her pussy dripped.

Still—her body begged.

He suckled harder on her clit, the sounds wet and filthy, and he let out a groan of approval when her thighs clamped weakly around his head, shaking, twitching.

"That's it," he rasped against her. "Give me your tears and your taste."

She whimpered again, high-pitched and desperate—a muffled wail caught around the girth filling her mouth, her body shaking as the sound bled out through her nose and throat in a trembling vibrato.

"MMHHH! MMNNghk… Aahhhmmgh—!"

He fucked her mouth deeper, faster, pressing down on her tongue with the full weight of his cock as he devoured her from below.

Every motion was a contradiction—brutal but reverent, savage but anchored in twisted devotion.

Her stomach convulsed.

Her pussy clenched, already close to another orgasm, the aftershocks from last night never truly gone.

Every suck, every lick, every thrust into her throat drove her closer to that edge of pleasure and humiliation she no longer had the strength to deny.

She let out another muffled, wet cry—a drawn-out moan that vibrated around him like a cry for help and a prayer for more—and it only made him groan against her, tongue plunging in deeper with renewed hunger.

"HHnnnnhggghhh!! MMmmmfffhh—!"

She couldn't breathe—not properly.

Not around him.

Not under him.

His cock filled her throat again, heavier than before, slick with spit and heat and hunger. His balls rested heavy against her chin, warm and damp, the weight of him impossible to ignore.

They slapped faintly as he moved—pah, pah, pah—each slow roll of his hips deepening the stretch, each subtle grind stealing the air from her lungs.

Her eyes blurred.

Tears streamed without resistance.

And still—she moaned.

The sound muffled, broken, desperate. Choked off with every thrust.

"Mmmmhh—ghkk—mmnfff—!"

Her throat clamped involuntarily, trying to adjust to the rhythm, the width, the pressure—but her body had no say anymore. He held her there, wrists pinned, knees firm against the sheets, straddling her as though he belonged there—on her, in her, over her.

Because maybe he did.

Because maybe she wanted it this way.

Because love, in its most perverse form, sometimes meant surrender.

Above her, Cruxius didn't speak again. He just groaned—low and breathless—as he buried his face between her legs. His tongue didn't hesitate. It didn't tease. It devoured.

And that was the worst part.

The way he tasted her like a man starved.

Like this wasn't her body, but his salvation.

His lips sealed around her clit, and her back arched with a sharp jolt.

Squelch. Squelch. Pah.

Her thighs trembled violently. Every nerve ending fired at once. Her body no longer obeyed her; it obeyed him. Her hips twitched as if they could pull away—but only pressed closer.

"Ah—mmfhh—Cruxius—!"

She tried to speak.

It came out a gurgled moan.

His tongue dragged up her folds—wet, relentless—and she felt herself unraveling again. Faster. Deeper. Her core clenched around emptiness, begging, fluttering. It built sharp and thick behind her ribs, an ache, a scream trapped behind the seal of her lips.

Her entire body shook.

Her vision swam.

And then—it broke.

She came.

Not with grace—but with violence.

Her body jolted upward, an electric arc of pleasure bursting through her spine, and she sprayed—helpless, unfiltered, soaking his face in a flood of release she hadn't even known she could give. Her thighs snapped shut around his head, her moan splintered into sobs.

And she kept coming.

Pulse after pulse, her body convulsed.

Every beat of her heart squeezed more from her.

Every breath she couldn't take fed the intensity.

Cruxius groaned against her, rutting against her tongue now, the slick heat of her throat sending him over the edge.

With a gasp—his voice cracking—he buried himself to the base.

She felt it first.

The twitch.

The throb.

Then the heat.

Thick, bitter spurts flooding her mouth, splashing across her tongue, rolling down her throat before she could even swallow.

"Urgghhh—!" She gagged softly, her nose wet with tears and her own slick, her body still shuddering beneath him.

He held her down—until the last spasm passed.

Then slowly, so slowly, he pulled back.

"Hah, that was insane," Cruxius stood, clearly looking toward a Tricia trembling with white fluid coming out of her mouth as he realized that he was here to take her out for food. Slowly reaching his hand before pressing her mouth together, sealing her lips as he said, "Drink it."

While she blinked with her purple eyes, teary, looking toward him as she swallowed, he leaned down near her ears.

She could clearly see fluid dripping down his face, completely wet like sweat, but she knew it was her own body fluid, making her embarrassed. Yet when he arrived near her, the smell of his fluid within her mouth mixed with her own through his face was enough to make her mind go numb and even snap the moment he, in a seductive tone, said—

"Good girl."