Chapter 278- What a Lie... Nano
Chapter 278- What a Lie... Nano
Her small body jolted on the surface, chips packets scattering, her thighs snapping together reflexively.
He chuckled.
"Oh." Flat. Carrying no apology. "My bad."
He pulled them up again.
Slower this time.
The fabric stretching further before the SNAP came harder.
The red mark blooming on her mound, the sting hot and immediate.
"Owww—" "Ahhnngg~!!" "Cruxius, please— it really hurts there— sob—"
Her thighs trembling.
Her entrance clenching.
The wet running from her pussy audible in the quiet between her cries.
He grabbed her breast.
His hand closing around it from below, the flesh bulging between his fingers, the nipple pressing into his palm.
His other hand pressed the crotch of her panties flat against her slit and rubbed.
The wet fabric dragging across her clit with the full, direct pressure of his palm behind it.
"Didn’t you say," he said, "you were going to kill me?"
His voice was low.
His eyes on her face.
"All those screens. All that planning." His palm ground harder. "And here you are."
’Badump. Badump.’
Her heart registering the sentence before her brain caught it.
’He knows.’ ’He knows everything I said.’ ’He heard me through the feed.’ ’The forty-three screens.’
"Please forgive me—" The words came out in a rush, thin and broken. "I was wrong— I didn’t mean it— I’ll do anything—"
"I know." He said it simply. "That’s exactly why I loved women like you."
He rubbed harder.
The panty soaking his palm through.
"One cock near your tight little hole and all that resistance melts."
"You bastard—" Her voice cracked on it. Furious and wet at the same time. "You complete—"
He yanked the panties off.
One motion.
Hooking them around her left ankle so they dangled there against the low surface, a white flag she hadn’t agreed to raise.
Her pussy bare in the full light of forty-three screens.
Pink. Puffy. Glistening.
He positioned a chips packet under her lower back to tilt her hips upward.
He looked at her.
"Watch, Nano." His voice carried no cruelty. Just the flat certainty of a man making a factual statement. "I’m going to deflower you again."
"No—" "Wait—" "Please—"
His cockhead pressed against her entrance.
The fat, crimson head finding the center of her with the accuracy of a body that had navigated this exact geography in a different life.
Her pussy lips spread.
The stretch beginning immediately — the pale pink skin going taut around his crown with the visible, obscene urgency of a body being asked to accommodate something built for a different scale.
’Too big.’ ’I can feel every ridge.’ ’My body is trying to pull him in and push him out at the same time and I cannot control either reflex.’
"Nnghhh—" "It’s stretching—" "So much already—"
He pushed.
One inch.
Slow.
Her walls clenching around the head with the helpless, desperate grip of a cunt finding its absolute limit and discovering it wasn’t.
Two inches.
"Aahh~!!" "Hhnggh~!!"
Three.
The blood came.
The thin, warm thread of it running from her entrance around his shaft, meeting her slick in the filthy, honest evidence of a hymen that had made it to this life intact and had just discovered that distinction was not going to hold.
The bulge appeared on her lower abdomen.
His cock visible through her skin at three inches.
A faint but present outline pushing upward from her flat belly.
"AAAAAAHHH~!!" "Stop—" "It hurts—" "It’s tearing me— pull it out— SOB— please—"
From the console:
"You monster—" Sugar’s voice, hoarse and furious. "You’re hurting her— STOP—"
He glanced at Sugar.
At the collar on her neck.
At the handcuffs.
At her cum-soaked, trembling frame.
Looked back at Nano.
Pushed another inch.
"Hnnghhh~!!" "My womb—" "You’re reaching my womb—" "I can’t take it—"
"Shhh." He leaned over her. His mouth finding her forehead. The kiss landing there with the tender, mockingly domestic quality of a man who had decided that gentleness and brutality were not mutually exclusive. "Feel it, Nano."
He ground slightly.
His cock stirring at the depth it had reached.
"Feel how your tight little cunt is pulling me in."
He started moving.
Shallow at first.
The slow, short thrusts of a man giving a body time to adjust that he did not actually intend to give, the rhythm establishing itself at a pace that still made her cry out with every motion.
"It hurts—" "Even slow—" "Sob—"
"Of course it does." He pressed his mouth against her cheek. "Hasn’t stopped you before."
Her hands found his back.
Nails pressing in.
"In the past life." His voice at her ear. "Didn’t I fuck you every morning?"
Her whole body went rigid.
The memories — the fragments she had sealed under the category of things that could not be verified and therefore could not be acted upon — arriving through the sensation, unlocked by exactly the same stimulus that had created them.
His cock moving in her.
The angle.
The depth.
’Every morning.’ ’The same depth.’ ’His voice in her ear.’
"It hurts—" "Even if it’s not the first—" Her voice breaking. "Even then—"
"But I like the tightness." His hips rolled. "You’re not loose like last life." A pause. The corner of his mouth against her cheek. "Oh my bad. Wasn’t that me?"
Her walls clenched.
Involuntarily.
Furiously.
’You bastard.’ ’You absolute—’
PAH! PAH! PAH!
He increased.
The shallow thrusts becoming deeper.
The deep ones becoming faster.
His hips building from deliberate to relentless in the space of sixty seconds, his cock driving into her at the pace that had demolished Sugar in the SUV and had spent five hours working through three women in Thalia’s house.
He folded her.
Her knees pushed back toward her shoulders.
The mating press — his whole body pressing her into a configuration that maximized depth and left her exactly nowhere to redirect the force of him.
PAH! PAH! PAAAH!
"OUNGHH~~!!" "ANGHH~~!!" "KYAAANNGG~!!" "Too rough—" "You’re breaking me—" "HIIEEK~!!"
Her breasts bouncing with every impact.
Both of them, free and uncontained, jiggling in tight, rapid arcs with each thrust, the brown nipples tracing patterns in the air, the red marks from his mouth and fingers standing out vivid on the pale skin.
The foam appearing at the base of his cock.
White. Present. The evidence of a tight cunt being worked at pace — her walls gripping him with the relentless, unyielding clench of a body that had not been trained to this and was managing it through sheer structural stubbornness.
The bulge rising and falling on her belly.
Visible on every deep stroke — the outline of his cock through her skin, pressing outward, showing exactly where he was inside her.
PAAAH! PAAAH!
"OUNGHH~~!!" "ANGHH~~!!"
"Ahhh~!!" "Deeper—" Her voice had changed.
She heard it before she processed the change.
"No— I mean— it feels—" "Hnnghhh~!!"
Her arms, which had been pushing at his chest, had relocated.
Both wrapped around his neck.
Nails in his back.
Pulling.
Her hips pressing upward to meet his thrusts with the specific, involuntary motion of a body that has passed the boundary between endurance and something else.
"AHHH~!!" "HIIEEK~!!" "OUNGH~!!"
Her pussy gushing.
The slick running down between her thighs, soaking the low surface beneath her, the wet sound of his cock moving through her combining with the chips packets beneath them and Sugar’s intermittent, horrified sounds from the console.
He kept going.
Long, powerful strokes that bottomed at her cervix and ground there before withdrawing, the full drag of his shaft across every surface of her interior walls producing a sound that filled the laboratory with something that the forty-three screens had no category for.
PAAAH! PAAAH! PAAAH!
"AAAAAAHHH~!!" "HIIEEK~!!" "I’m—" "I can’t—" "OUNGH~!!"
He came.
The same complete, full-body surrender of it — his hips pressing to the absolute root, the load releasing in hard, sustained pulses that fired against her cervix with the accumulated force of a body that had come twice this morning and had somehow found more.
"This is your first creampie," he said.
His voice rough at the edges.
"My darling."
"AAAAAAHHH~~!!" "I’m cumming—" "I’m cumming so hard—"
She squirted.
The spray coming with enough force to carry — the stream of her orgasm shooting outward from around his buried cock, arcing across the laboratory in the trajectory of a body in complete, unmanaged release.
Landing on the console.
On Sugar.
"You bitch—" "What are you—" "That’s disgusting—" "AHHH—"
Sugar yelled.
Her skin glistening with Nano’s squirt, her face turned sideways, her handcuffed body unable to move away.
Nano couldn’t hear her.
Nano was somewhere else entirely.
Her pussy spasming around him in long, continuous waves that milked every last pulse of his seed deeper, her walls clenching with the desperate, helpless thoroughness of a body that had been given exactly what it had been building toward and was refusing to let a single drop escape.
He kept moving.
Small, firm pushes.
Through both their orgasms.
His cock working his seed deeper with each thrust.
"You just break," he said. The same even tone. "Like a champagne bottle." His hips pressed. "Beautiful when you squirt everywhere, my dear Nano."
She lay beneath him.
Gasping.
Her petite body entirely limp.
Chips packets stuck to the sweat of her back.
The white panty still around her left ankle.
Her breasts rising and falling in the rapid, shallow rhythm of a woman who has expended everything.
Her eyes glassy.
Her walls still fluttering around him in small, continuous aftershocks.
Blood and seed and her slick running from the junction of them down the edge of the surface.
He leaned down.
His mouth finding her lips.
The kiss slow. Claiming. His tongue pressing in with the same patient, languid possession of the first one.
She kissed back.
She couldn’t not.
"Get ready," he murmured against her mouth.
His hips pulled back.
PAH—
A single slow thrust.
Her walls clenching around the withdrawal and the return with the specific, helpless grip of a body that had been thoroughly used and was already, inexplicably, beginning to want again.
"For round two."
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