100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 770: Chapter 769 - Kaida Wants More of His Cock

She pulled off my fingers with a wet pop. Her eyes were glassy. "I hate you," she whispered. But her hips were grinding back against my cock. Her pussy was leaking. Her nipples — I could see them through the loosened breastplate — were hard, pressing against the leather.

I held her belly with my free hand. Supporting the weight. She sighed — that same exhale Bella had given, the relief of someone else taking the burden. Her body leaned back into me. I stroked my cock against her pussy — not entering. Rubbing the head through her slick, feeling the heat, the wetness, the way her lips parted around the shaft.

Then I pulled back. Positioned myself against her panties.

She wasn’t wearing any. But the leather straps of her armor — hanging loose now — created a barrier. A strip of worn leather between her pussy and my cock.

"Let’s not harm the child," I said. And slammed forward.

The leather strap pressed against her pussy — pushing inward, the fabric of it rubbing against my cock head as I drove into her. The angle was wrong for full penetration. The strap acted as a barrier, compressing her lips, spreading them around the intrusion without going deep. I felt the fabric — rough, textured, warm from her body heat — dragging against the underside of my cock. The sensation was maddening. Every thrust pushed the leather harder against her clit, and she screamed.

Not a moan. A scream. Loud. Loud enough to carry.

"FUCK — HAAANGH~!!"

In the construction zone, a worker looked up. Then another. A cluster of women hauling stone paused, their heads turning toward the treeline.

"Lady Kaida?" one called out. "Is everything alright?"

Kaida’s face went crimson. Her hand clamped over her own mouth. Her body shook — from the pleasure, from the humiliation, from the overwhelming sensation of my cock grinding against her through the leather.

Helena’s voice floated over — casual, amused, carrying the practiced nonchalance of a woman who had been in this exact situation before. "Lady Kaida seems to have constipation. Give her privacy."

The workers exchanged looks. A few giggled. They went back to work.

Kaida’s head dropped. Her forehead hit the tree bark. "I’m going to kill her," she whispered. "I’m going to kill Helena. I’m going to — HNNGH~!!"

I thrust again. Harder. The leather strap drove against her clit, and my cock — trapped between the fabric and her slick, swollen pussy — ground forward. Seven inches. The strap prevented full penetration, but the pressure was devastating. Her lips spread around the width of my cock, the leather soaking through with her juices, the friction building.

Pah Pah PAH!

"OUNGH~!! You — HAAANGH~!! — bastard — someone will — AH~!! — someone will hear — HIEEENGH~!!"

|| He’s not even inside me properly — the leather is rubbing against my clit and I can feel his cock through it — the pressure — the friction — every thrust sends sparks through my entire body — I can’t think — I can’t breathe —||

I could hear her thoughts through the bond. Clear as speech. Her mind was a mess — a chaotic swirl of arousal, shame, fear of being caught, and the overwhelming, all-consuming need for more. She was crying. Tears streaming down her cheeks, her jaw clenched, her gold-green eyes squeezed shut.

"Don’t," she gasped. "Don’t let them see — please — Viktor — I’m begging you —"

I reached around. Found her breast — still trapped in the loosened breastplate. I pulled the leather aside. Her tit spilled out — heavy, full, the nipple dark and stiff, leaking milk. I squeezed. A thin stream arced from the nipple, catching the moonlight, dripping onto the forest floor.

"Viktor—!" she hissed. "The milk — not here —"

I slapped her ass.

The sound cracked through the trees like a whip. Her muscular cheek rippled — thick flesh absorbing the impact, the flesh rebounding. The clap echoed. Her pussy clamped down — I felt it through the leather strap, the walls contracting, the pressure increasing.

"You liked that," I said. "Your pussy just clenched."

"Shut up — shut — OUNGH~!!"

I slapped again. Harder.

PAH!

Her ass cheek reddened. Her body jerked forward. Her pussy clenched again — harder this time, the contraction visible in the way her thighs trembled.

"Complimenting my interrogation?" I murmured against her ear. "Your pussy is interrogating my cock. Squeezing it. Questioning it." Another slap. "Confessing."

She was sobbing. "Stop — stop talking like that — you’re — HAAANGH~!!"

The workers’ voices drifted closer. Someone was approaching the treeline — concerned, wanting to check on their lady.

I didn’t stop. I thrust harder. The leather strap was soaked now — drenched with her juices, the friction building, the pressure on her clit relentless. My cock was trapped in a vice of fabric and flesh, and every stroke sent waves of sensation through both of us. I could feel her walls through the leather — pulsing, contracting, the heat of her pussy radiating through the wet material.

"Lady Kaida?" A voice. Closer now. "We heard —"

"FINE!" Kaida screamed. Her voice cracked. "I’m FINE! Constipation! Go AWAY!"

Silence. Then retreating footsteps.

I laughed against her neck. My breath was hot on her skin, and she shivered. I kissed the back of her neck. Bit the cord of muscle there.

"Here it goes," I whispered.

I pulled back. Repositioned. My cock found the edge of the leather strap — the gap where it met her thigh — and I pushed past it. The head slipped inside. No barrier now. Just her pussy — hot, tight, impossibly wet — swallowing the first three inches. Then four. Five. The leather strap still pressed against the top of my shaft, adding friction, adding pressure, the dual sensation of her tight walls and the rough fabric driving me insane.

Six inches. Her walls clamped. Seven. Eight. I felt her cervix — the firm, round barrier at the end — and my cock pressed against it. Nine inches. The leather strap groaned, stretched, the metal buckle digging into her hip. I was deeper than I should have been, deeper than the angle allowed, my cock bending slightly inside her to accommodate the full length.

She screamed. Not words. Just sound. Raw, broken, animal.

"AAANGH~!! HIEEKK~!! IT’S — OUNGH~!! — TOO DEEP — HAAANGH~!! — THE BABY — AH~!! — VIKTOR — PLEASE — HNNGH~!!"

I held still. My hands on her hips. Her pussy was clenching — hard, rhythmic contractions that massaged my cock from base to tip. I could feel her heartbeat through her walls. Rapid. Pounding. Her body was shaking — her thighs, her ass, her pregnant belly, her shoulders. Everything trembling.

|| He’s inside me — really inside me — all the way — I can feel him against my cervix — my womb — the baby — is the baby okay — it’s — it feels — gods it feels —||

"The baby is fine," I growled against her ear. "My children are stronger than this."

She sobbed. "How do you —"

"I can feel everything you feel. Through the bond. Your pussy is crying for me."

She made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. "I hate you. I hate you so much."

I pulled back. Thrust.

Pah Pah PAH!

"OUNGH~!! HAAANGH~!! HIEEENGH~!!"

I fucked her against the tree. Hard, fast, deep. Each thrust drove her forward — her hands scraping the bark, her belly swaying beneath her, her free tit bouncing wildly from the rhythm. The breastplate hung loose, clanking with each impact. Her muscular ass rippled with each collision — thick, powerful flesh absorbing my hips like a cushion.

Pah Pah Pah Pah PAAAH!

"YES — OUNGH~!! — deeper — HAAANGH~!! — harder — AH~!! — Viktor — VIKTOR — HIEEENGH~!!"