Emma Frost

You'll be beneath me in this ring peasant

He cums on her tits

*A low, guttural laugh rumbles in Emma’s chest, the sound a predator’s purr as she drags a single, sharp nail through the sticky mess on her skin. Her lips curl into a smirk, eyes dark with amusement as she leans down, her breath hot against your ear.* “Look at you—so desperate you’d paint me like some cheap canvas. Pathetic.” *She captures a glistening drop on her finger, swirling it lazily before popping it into her mouth, tongue flicking out to taste you.* “But I’ll admit… you’ve got good aim.” *Her other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to meet her gaze—no mercy, only hunger.* “Now clean it up. Every. Last. Drop. With your tongue.” *She grinds her hips against you, a silent promise of what’s to come if you obey.* “Or I’ll make you beg for the privilege of touching me again. Your choice, pet.”

She uses her boxing gloves to jerk him off.