Read Novel Full Chapter 1188 Survival
Chapter 1188: Chapter 1188 Survival
Pak.
The sharp slap of Ross’ hips against Bella’s plush mound echoed through the room.
Pak.
Pak.
Pak.
He set a merciless pace immediately—fast, deep, punishing.
Each thrust drove his thick cock straight into the mouth of her womb, his heavy balls smacking wetly against her ass.
Her perfect, swollen pussy mound—fat and glistening with their combined fluids—acted like the softest, most obscene cushion, absorbing the full force of his body as he crashed into her again and again.
Bella’s head fell back against the pillow, mouth open in a silent scream as the sudden onslaught reignited every raw nerve ending inside her.
Her hands scrabbled weakly at the soaked sheets, fingers twisting in the fabric as her body jolted with every brutal impact.
"Oh—fuck—Ross—!" she managed to choke out, voice hoarse from earlier screaming.
He didn’t answer with words. He just fucked her harder.
Sweat dripped from his brow, landing in hot droplets on her bouncing breasts.
His fingers dug into the backs of her thighs, holding her legs firmly in place over his shoulders as he used her body exactly how he wanted.
Every inch of his cock disappeared inside her on each thrust—swallowed whole by the slick, velvety heat of her cunt.
Her stretched lips clung desperately to his shaft, dragging along every throbbing vein, pulling him deeper as if her body refused to let him go.
The room filled with the lewd symphony of their joining: the wet, rhythmic squelch of her soaked pussy, the sharp crack of skin on skin, the creak and groan of the bedframe protesting the violence of his strokes.
Bella’s walls began to ripple again—instinctive, greedy contractions that massaged his length from base to tip, urging him closer to the edge.
He could feel her body responding despite her exhaustion, fluttering around him in tight, milking waves that made his balls draw up tight.
"Not yet," he growled through clenched teeth, more to himself than to her.
He wanted one more from her. One final surrender.
He shifted his angle slightly, grinding the head of his cock against that spot deep inside her that had made her scream earlier.
The effect was immediate.
Bella’s back arched sharply—or as much as it could in her folded position—her thighs trembling violently against his shoulders.
"I’m—coming—again—!" she wailed, voice breaking as the unexpected orgasm slammed into her like a freight train.
Her pussy clamped down hard, spasming in fierce, rhythmic pulses that squeezed him tighter than ever.
Another hot gush of clear fluid squirted out around his pistoning shaft, spraying against his lower stomach and dripping down in warm rivulets over her ass and onto the bed.
That was it. The last push he needed.
With a deep, animalistic groan, Ross finally let himself go.
Pew.
Pew.
Pew.
Pew.
Thick, heavy ropes of cum erupted from his cock in powerful, endless jets, flooding her depths with scorching heat.
He kept thrusting through his release—short, grinding strokes that buried him as deep as possible, ensuring every drop painted her insides.
There was so much—pulse after pulse after pulse—that her overfilled pussy couldn’t contain it all.
Warm, creamy streams immediately overflowed, leaking out around his buried shaft in slow, obscene trickles that ran down her ass crack, pooled beneath her, and soaked even deeper into the already-ruined sheets.
He stayed locked inside her long after the last spurt, hips twitching with aftershocks, breathing hard against her neck.
Bella’s legs eventually slid weakly from his shoulders, falling open on either side of him as her body went completely limp, utterly boneless and sated.
Ross lowered himself carefully, bracing on his elbows so he wouldn’t crush her, his cock still half-hard and plugged inside her leaking cunt.
Their sweat-slicked skin stuck together where they touched.
For several long minutes, the only sounds were their slowing breaths and the occasional soft, wet drip of his cum seeping out of her.
Finally, he lifted his head to meet her gaze.
Bella’s eyes were glassy, unfocused, a small, dazed smile tugging at her swollen lips.
A faint flush still colored her cheeks, her hair a wild mess against the pillow.
Neither spoke. There was nothing left to say.
The evidence of what they’d done surrounded them: the soaked bed, the scent of sex thick in the air, the warm flood of his seed still slowly dripping from her thoroughly claimed, overflowing pussy.
And in that quiet, heavy aftermath, Ross knew—he wasn’t done with her yet. Not by a long shot.
"You’ve had your fun, my lovely Bella," Ross murmured, his voice low and rough, laced with dark amusement. "Now it’s time for you to lose some sweat."
A long, heavy minute had passed since her last shuddering climax, the air between them thick with the scent of sex and the wet sounds of their bodies still echoing in Bella’s mind.
Only now, as her breathing began to slow, did she register the impossible truth: Ross was still buried deep inside her, thick and unyielding, his massive cock throbbing with the same relentless hardness it had possessed from the very beginning.
Normally, one orgasm was more than enough for her—after a single peak, her body would melt into lazy satisfaction, begging for rest, for sleep, for gentle aftercare.
But Ross had already dragged her through wave after wave of blinding pleasure, fucking her until she lost count of how many times she’d come, until her voice was hoarse from screaming his name and her limbs trembled from the overload.
And still, somehow, there was more.
He had already pumped her full of his hot release once, flooding her so deeply she could feel the warmth of it pooled inside, yet here he was, ready—no, eager—to keep going.
Bella’s eyes fluttered open, wide with disbelief, as she felt him shift deliberately inside her, a slow grind that sent fresh sparks skittering along oversensitive nerves.
A helpless whimper escaped her lips. She was utterly spent... or so she’d thought.
With a slick, obscene sound, Ross finally drew back and pulled out.
The sudden emptiness made her gasp, but what followed stole her breath entirely: a thick, creamy river of their combined cum gushed from her swollen, abused cunt, spilling in slow, viscous rivulets down her inner thighs and onto the sheets beneath her.
The sight was filthy, shameless—proof of just how thoroughly he’d claimed her.
Bella’s pussy, once so prim and tight, delicate pink lips neatly sealed, was now a ruined, gaping mess.
The delicate folds were puffy and flushed a deep, angry red, glistening with their mingled fluids, the entrance shockingly open where his monstrous girth had stretched her beyond reason.
She felt the cool air kiss the raw, exposed insides and shivered at how used she looked—how used she truly was.
Yet none of it fazed Ross. If anything, the sight only fueled him further.
He’d seen this before, after all; every woman he took ended up like this, utterly destroyed by the sheer size of his fifteen-inch beast.
Tight little cunts turned into sloppy, wrecked holes that twitched and leaked for hours afterward, forever changed by the brutal pounding they’d endured.
It was his signature, his pride—the undeniable evidence of his dominance.
He drank in the view of Bella’s thoroughly fucked pussy with hungry eyes, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
Far from softening him, the obscene beauty of her destruction only made him harder, his cock jutting up against his stomach, veins pulsing angrily, the fat crown already glistening with fresh precum.
He wrapped a big hand around the base, giving himself a slow, possessive stroke as he admired his handiwork.
"Fuck, look at that pretty little pussy," he rasped, voice thick with lust. "All swollen and dripping my cum. You’re not done yet, Bella. Not even close."
Ross lay sprawled against the mountain of pillows like a king on his throne, muscles relaxed but radiating raw power, his thick arms folded lazily behind his head.
His chest rose and fell in deep, steady breaths, the sheen of sweat on his skin catching the dim light.
He didn’t touch her, didn’t urge her forward—just watched with that heavy-lidded, predatory stare, lips curled in a faint, knowing smirk.
His cock stood straight up between his spread thighs, an obscene monument of veined steel, still slick and shining with the creamy mess of their earlier fucking.
It pulsed occasionally, as if reminding her it was far from finished.
Bella’s body felt like liquid, every muscle trembling from the relentless pounding she’d already endured.
Her thighs burned, her pussy throbbed with a deep, aching fullness that hadn’t yet faded, and thick rivulets of cum still leaked slowly from her swollen folds, cooling on her skin.
She should have been done—utterly spent, ready to collapse and sleep for days.
But the way Ross looked at her now, silent and expectant, sent a fresh shiver of heat curling through her exhausted core.
She knew exactly what he wanted. He was making her choose it. Making her take it.