Free Web NovelChapter 532: Chapter 531- Keep Going
At Eliantra’s ass spreading and clapping and spreading.
At the sound filling the room.
Something moved through Rihana’s body that bypassed thought entirely — the pure, trained, pavlovian response of a woman whose hips had spent a night learning one rhythm — and before she had consciously decided to do it, she was ’moving.’
She crossed to him.
Both arms wrapped around his back from behind. Her heavy, full breasts pressed flat against his shoulder blades, the nipples dragging against his shirt fabric. Her hips found his ass and she ’pushed’ — driving herself forward with each of his thrusts, adding her weight to his, slamming herself into his back so the combined impact drove him deeper into Eliantra with each stroke.
PAAH!!
"AAAANGHHH~~!!! NGH—NGHHHH~!!!"
The depth changed.
Nine inches found ten.
The cervix, already kissed, was now ’pressed’ — held there, his cockhead seated fully against the tight entrance of her womb, the pressure of Rihana’s weight behind him keeping him there for the half-second between thrusts.
Eliantra’s fingers tore one of the papers.
Her hips tried to move backward — the instinct of a body trying to create distance from something too large and too deep — and found Rihana’s weight behind Viktor pressing him forward, no retreat available, pinned against the desk with nine inches of cock seated against her cervix and a woman behind him making sure it stayed that way.
"I—IT’S TOO—NGHH~!! PLEASE—HAAHH~!! PLEASE WAIT—"
PAH PAH PAH PAH!
"HAAANGH~!! AAHHH~!! NGHIEEE~!!! MNNGH~!!!"
The floor was wet.
The spray of her — her pussy producing in the excessive, continuous way a thoroughly fucked woman’s body produces when it’s been healed and fucked and healed again — ran down the insides of her thighs and dripped from her knees and pooled on the floorboards below the desk in a spreading, glittering stain.
The shadow on the desk shifted with each thrust.
The shadow of her bent form, visible to seven downturned sets of eyes — her heavy breasts now fully visible in shadow-form as they bounced free of the desk surface with each impact, the outline of a woman being fucked with comprehensive thoroughness printed in morning gold light across the paperwork they’d brought to bury her with.
Viktor looked up from the back of her head.
At the room.
At seven men who were white-knuckled and sweating and not looking and listening to a woman they had all wronged being made to scream at a desk ten feet from them.
PAAH!!
"AAANGHHH~~!!!"
"Now," Viktor said. freeweɓnovel.cøm
His voice was not strained. It was not even particularly loud. It carried clearly through the sound of slapping flesh and Eliantra’s continuous, broken crying and Rihana’s own soft, rhythmic ’"Mnh~— Mnh~— Mnh~—"’ with each thrust she added her weight to.
"Continue."
The silence stretched for one beat. Two.
Then, from the far end of the table:
"I — supply—"
The voice broke immediately. The man — narrow-shouldered, with the perpetually apologetic posture of someone who has spent years being useful to powerful people — cleared his throat and tried again.
"I supply the Torvaine Viscounty with information. Merchant movement. Trade routes." A pause. The sound of wet flesh and a woman crying. "Names of traders who cross into Hartfield territory without — without declaring cargo."
PAH PAH!
"NNGHH~!! HAHN~!! MMPH~!!!"
Eliantra heard it.
Through the fog of being fucked, through the overwhelming, full-body occupation of Viktor’s cock driving through her rebuilt walls and the hot press of Rihana’s chest against his back amplifying each thrust — she heard it.
’Names of traders.’
Her fingers tightened on the desk edge.
"Continue," Viktor said again. Still moving. Still driving forward and back, the rhythm unchanged, his voice carrying the same boardroom calm it had maintained since the meeting began.
Another man. Dagger Lom, voice stripped of its usual dock-side authority down to something that was simply trying to make words.
"The — the harbor exemptions. I have three officials. On payroll. They wave through shipments that—" He stopped at a particularly loud impact. ’"—that bypass customs inspection entirely. The goods include— include items that should—"’
PAH PAH PAAH!!
"KYAAHH~!! NGHAAAHH~!! HAAIIEENGH~!!!"
The inkwell went over the edge of the desk.
Shattered on the floor.
Black ink spreading across the wet floorboards, mixing with Eliantra’s juices in an abstract pattern that nobody in the room was in a position to appreciate aesthetically.
Eliantra’s face was fully destroyed.
Her cheek pressed against the papers, her mouth open in a continuous, broken stream of sound that wasn’t quite moaning and wasn’t quite screaming and wasn’t quite begging and was all three simultaneously.
"Haahh— haahh— nghh~— please— HAAHH~!! I can’t— I can’t think— ngh—"
"You don’t have to think," Viktor said, from directly behind her, his hips still working, each thrust sending her breasts sliding and bouncing along the desk surface. "Just feel."
’Feel.’
She felt his cock pressing through the remaining halfs each time — the healing warmth of them turned electric by the friction, her walls clutching and releasing and clutching, the rebuilt muscles finding him with the fresh, enthusiastic grip of something new and overwhelming.
She felt her womb being knocked open and pressed closed and knocked open again.
She felt Rihana’s heavy, warm breasts moving against his back with each shared thrust, felt the rhythm of another woman adding her body weight to make the fucking deeper, the sick, intimate knowledge that she was being held in place by a woman behind a man inside her.
She felt her thighs soaking.
She felt everything.
PAH PAH PAH PAH PAAH!!
"AAANNGH~!! HNNGH~!! NGHIEE~!! AAAAHH~!! MNNGHHHH~!!!"
Renwick, at the table, had his hands flat on the wood and his eyes closed.
His cock.
Limp. Cold. Absent. The thing that had fueled months of planning and careful sabotage — every manipulated ledger, every dismissed servant, every whispered rumor — was simply gone. Not there. As if the man in that room had reached into him during the night and removed the mechanism responsible.
He opened his mouth.
His voice came out steady only because he had nothing left to lose.
"The servant removal. The arrangements." Each word placed carefully. "I worked with four houses in the neighboring counties. The goal was legal abandonment — if the territory could be shown to be operating below minimum noble maintenance standards, the holdings could be petitioned to the crown for redistribution." He paused. "I had buyers arranged."
PAAH!!
"AAAANGHHH~~!! NGH— NNGHHH~!!!"
Eliantra heard that one.
Her eyes, rolled and blurred, focused for a moment with the clarity that certain information produces regardless of circumstance.
’Buyers.’
’Her territory.’
’Arranged.’
A sound came from her that was different from the moans — a lower, harder sound, somewhere in her chest. Not a moan. Not a cry. The sound of a woman who has just understood the full shape of something.
Viktor felt it.
He felt the change in her body — the tightening that wasn’t from pleasure, the way her hands re-gripped the desk edge, the small, involuntary forward press of her shoulders.
He looked down at the back of her head.
At the sweat-damp hair spread across her cheek.
His hand moved from her hip to the back of her neck.
Not choking. Holding. The firm, grounding weight of a hand that is simply present.
Her body responded immediately — the chest-tension releasing, the shoulders dropping slightly, the hips resuming their overwhelmed, helpless press backward into each thrust.
He continued.
PAH PAH PAH!
"Mmnh~— HAHN~!! Ngh— nghh~!!"
"Keep going," Viktor said. At the room. At Renwick. At all of them.
