Cruxius watched her—her lips swollen, her throat bulging slightly as she fought to take more of him. Her eyes stayed locked on his, glassy with tears, shimmering with that sickening, sacred blend of shame and need that only she could wear like this.
He wanted more.
No—he wanted everything.
And she had it to give.
With a slow, calculated movement, he pulled back, letting his cock slide free of her mouth with a wet pop that left her gasping, lips slick and parted, strings of saliva connecting her mouth to his length.
But only for a moment.
Because before she could inhale fully, before she could ask what was next—
He climbed up.
Straddled her face.
Knees planted on either side of her head.
And then—he lowered himself.
Balls-deep.
His thick shaft dropped back into her mouth with a wet thud, the weight of it pushing past her lips again, heavier now, his balls settling onto her chin and throat as he seated himself fully, completely, right on her face.
She whimpered under him.
