"Hic?" Bella's breath hitched, her hands trembling over her mouth as she watched the thick, purple glans bobbing in the air, angry and weeping clear fluid.
It was terrifying—a weapon of flesh that had just brutalized the woman she admired.
Mira lay there, ruined. Her body was a mess of sweat and bruises, her legs still spread wide in a vulgar display of submission, her chest heaving as she choked on air.
"Angh... Hah... Hah... H-Honey...?"
Viktor didn't answer. His eyes were dark, focused entirely on the way her pink, abuse-swollen pussy lips twitched, trying to grasp a phantom cock that was no longer there.
His grip tightened. He began to stroke. Fast. Ruthless.
SCHLICK-SCHLICK-SCHLICK!
"Nothing," Viktor commanded, his voice a guttural growl as his mind had become more clear now.
He needed an answer and if indulging was an answer then, let's give a show to his naive Bella. "Just a small show I want us to put up, Mira."
