Chapter 669 - 668 - Lovely Wife Getting Pounded After Days

Chapter 669: Chapter 668 - Lovely Wife Getting Pounded After Days

The words were directed at the doorway. At Mira. At the naked woman standing there with a demoness behind her. His voice was warm. Amused. The tone of a man who had been caught mid-stroke and didn’t care.

"After running away without cleaning my cock."

Nora’s body went statue.

Every muscle. Every tendon. Every fiber. Locked. Rigid. Her crimson eyes — wide, wider than they had ever been — were fixed on the man. On the body. On the face.

The six-pack abs. The muscles. The lean, pale, defined body that she had seen in the cave. The incubus tail. The cock — the thick, long, twelve-inch cock that she had been forced to lick. That she had been forced to take in her mouth. That her tongue had traced from base to tip while her body betrayed her and her mind screamed.

The cock that had been inside her mouth.

The cock that was currently inside another woman’s ass.

’It’s him.’

’It’s HIM.’

’The bastard. The human. The cock-bearing, collar-wielding, lick-forcing, humiliation-inflicting BASTARD.’

Her whole body broke into cold sweat. The sweat beaded on her forehead, on her upper lip, on the exposed swell of her breasts. Her hands trembled. Her knees weakened.

"You —" she whispered. The word came out broken. Barely a breath. "Aren’t you—"

Viktor looked up. Past Helena’s thrashing body. Past the bed. Past the soaked sheets. His eyes — calm, amused, the same infuriating eyes from the cave — found Nora’s.

He smiled.

"Hey," he said. The greeting was casual. The tone of a man welcoming a guest. As if he weren’t currently balls-deep in a pregnant woman’s ass. As if the demoness he had collared and face-fucked hadn’t just appeared in his bedroom. "Long time no see."

"YOU — YOU HUMAN BASTARD—!!"

Nora lunged.

Her body moved — demon speed, demon strength, three thousand years of combat experience channeling into a single, ’I-WILL-KILL-HIM’ charge. Her hands extended. Crimson energy gathered in her palms. Her fangs — the heavenly demon’s combat form, the elongated canines — extended.

She made it one step.

Mira’s eyes moved.

The glare. The same flat, cold, ’I-am-not-amused’ glare that had made Nora kneel in the scorched field. But this time, it wasn’t killing intent. It was authority.

CLANG—!!

Chains erupted from the floor. Black, iron, the manifestations of the Archdemon Emperor’s demonic authority — the ability to bind lesser demons, to chain them, to subjugate them. The chains shot upward — wrapping around Nora’s wrists, her ankles, her thighs, her waist. The iron links tightened. Her arms were yanked behind her back. Her legs were pulled together. Her body was pulled down.

She hit the floor. Hard. Her knees cracked against the cobblestone. Her chin hit the ground. The chains held her — spread-eagled, face-down, her ass raised involuntarily, her body locked in a position that was less "prisoner" and more "presented."

CRACK.

A crimson magic circle formed on the floor beneath her. The runes glowed — the ancient, binding sigils of demonic contract law. The circle muted her voice. Not silenced — muted. Her scream came out as a whisper.

"I will kill you—" she hissed. The words were barely audible. The magic circle compressed them. "I will KILL you, you bastard—"

BZZZT—!!

Electricity. The crimson circle pulsed. A bolt of mana — sharp, hot, ’punishing’ — shot through the chains into Nora’s body. Her back arched. Her teeth clenched. A strangled, ’I-am-being-electrocuted’ sound escaped her throat.

"AAAAHHH—!!"

The electricity stopped. Nora’s body fell. She lay on the floor — trembling, twitching, her ash-grey hair spread across the stone like spilled silver. Blood trickled from her nose — a thin, red line running over her lip, down her chin, onto the floor. Her crimson eyes were glazed. Unfocused. The shock — physical and emotional — had short-circuited her.

On the bed, the sounds continued.

PAH PAH PAAH PHACK!!

"AAAAHHH~!!♡♡!! YOUNG MASTER — AAANGH~!!♡♡♡!! SLOW — PLEASE — HAAAH~!!♡♡♡!!"

Helena’s moans. The flesh-slapping. The wet, obscene, ’schlick-schlick’ of a cock moving in an ass. The creak of the bed. The splash of milk hitting sheets. The symphony of sex that continued — uninterrupted, unbothered — while a heavenly demon lay on the floor three feet away, electrocuted and chained.

Nora’s ears rang. The electricity had scrambled her senses. Through the haze, through the pain, through the humiliation of being chained and shocked in front of the man who had already humiliated her once—

She heard Mira’s voice.

Not speaking to her. Speaking to Viktor.

Mira had moved. While Nora was being chained, while Helena was being fucked, while the room was filled with the sounds of sex and violence — Mira had walked to the bed. Her naked body — the thick hips, the heavy tits, the post-birth belly — pressed against Viktor’s back. Her arms wrapped around him from behind. Her hands found his hips. Her fingers dug into his skin.

She was helping him.

Her hands on his hips, pushing. Guiding. Adding force to his thrusts. Each push drove his cock deeper into Helena’s ass, the impact harder, the PAH louder.

PAH PAH PAAH!!

"AAAAHHH~!!♡♡♡!!"

Mira moaned. The sound was soft. Warm. The moan of a woman who was enjoying — not the sex itself, but the act of helping her husband fuck another woman. Her body pressed against his back — her tits mashed against his shoulder blades, her belly against his lower back. Her lips found his ear.

"Where you enjoying her until now, dear husband?" she whispered. The Voice of Dominion made the words vibrate through his body. "Darling?"

Viktor laughed. The sound rumbled through his chest, through Mira’s body pressed against his back.

"Yeah," he said. His hips didn’t stop. The rhythm continued — steady, relentless, the machine-gun pace that had been going for what must have been an hour. "I was."

His eyes moved. Past Helena’s thrashing form. Past the bed. To the floor. To the chained, electrocuted, trembling demoness.

"And by the way," he said. His voice carried across the room. Casual. Conversational. The tone of a man discussing dinner options. "You asked how they left my cock dirty after using it. Remember? In the cave?"

Mira’s green eyes flickered. She remembered. The smell of his cock when she had pulled it from his pants — the dried blood, the feminine arousal, the copper scent of other women. Her ’how dare they, they should have cleaned it after using.’

"It was that bitch you have brought," Viktor said. His eyes were on Nora. On the chained, trembling, bleeding demoness on the floor. "She was the one who ran away without licking my cock clean."

Nora’s body jerked. The chains rattled. Her crimson eyes — still glazed, still unfocused — found his face. The rage that surged through her was enough to override the shock, the pain, the electrocution.

"YOU HUMAN BASTARD—!!"

She lunged again. The chains held. The crimson circle pulsed. Another bolt—

BZZZT—!!

"AAAAHHH—!!"

Nora collapsed. Again. Her body hit the stone. Twitching. The blood from her nose pooled beneath her cheek. Her ash-grey hair was matted with sweat and blood and drool. She looked — as Mira would later describe to Kaida — like a roasted worm chicken. Trembling. Glazed. Done.

On the bed, the fucking continued.

PAH PAH PAAH PHACK!!

"AAAAHHH~!!♡♡!! HAAAH~!!♡♡♡!! YOUNG MASTER — MORE — I CAN’T — AAANGH~!!♡♡♡!!"

Viktor’s hips blurred. His cock — twelve inches, thick, veiny — drove into Helena’s anal canal at a speed that made the individual thrusts blend into a continuous roar.