The atmosphere in the clearing had reached a point of absolute, feverish delirium. The air was thick with the heavy, musk-laden scent of sweat and the unmistakable, cloying aroma of spilled seed.
Rex was no longer just fucking her; he was performing a ritual of total psychological and physical deconstruction.
With his telekinesis, he kept Ignivara's body suspended, her hips tilted at a sharp, agonizing angle that allowed him maximum access to her tight, pulsing asshole. As he drove himself in with a rhythmic, bone-deep force, he reached out with one massive, calloused hand and began to slap her swollen, sensitive abdomen.
SLAP! SMACK! SLAP!
"GYAAAAAAH! REX! THE PRESSURE! AHHH! IT'S... IT'S TOO MUCH! GAAAAH!"
The impact of his palm against her stomach sent violent ripples through her internal organs, forcing his cock to slam even harder against her cervix. The sound of the slapping flesh mingled with the wet, suctioning noises of his entry, creating a chaotic, carnal percussion.
