I grabbed her hair. Pulled. Her head came back, her neck exposed, her mouth open. I kissed her — deep, messy, our tongues clashing. She tasted like iron and tea and need.
My tail tightened around her thigh. My other hand found her pregnant belly — supporting it, cradling it, feeling the taut skin and the life beneath. Her pussy was a furnace. The walls were slick, hot, clenching with every thrust. I could feel every ridge, every fold, the texture of her inner walls massaging my cock as I drove in and out.
She was close. I could feel it through the bond — the tension building, coiling, the pressure in her lower abdomen. Her pussy was getting tighter — the contractions coming faster, harder, rhythmic. Her clit was swollen, grinding against the leather strap with each thrust.
"I'm going to cum inside you," I said. "Right now."
Her eyes went wide. "Wait — not — Viktor — the baby — I can't — if I cum — I'll — HAAANGH~!!"
