10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 202 - Maid Must Serve Her Master

But her stubborn body was finally giving way to him. Incredibly slowly. Deeply, humiliatingly shamefully.

The impossibly tight, frantically twitching ring of muscle slowly began to stretch—slowly, so agonizingly, terrifyingly slow—completely around the massive girth of his cockhead. The thick flesh pulsed heavily against her sensitive walls, incredibly warm and unyielding, parting her tightest seal inch by agonizing inch, forcefully stretching her wide open like her own body wasn’t even hers to control anymore.

"Ahhh—AHHH—fuck it’s—haaah—it’s stretching—nghh—!"

Her desperate cries were rapidly thinning out. High, breathless, and wet with absolute panic.

Her pale thighs kicked—or at least, they tried to—one delicate heel sliding clumsily across the slick muscle of his broad back before falling completely limp again. She was shivering uncontrollably all over now. Her slender arms trembled uselessly above her head, her manicured fingers curled tightly into the tangled sheets as if she had forgotten how to use them.

Her chest rose and dropped in frantic, shallow pulses, her freed breast bouncing helplessly every single time her small frame was violently jerked beneath his weight.

And her exhausted body... was rapidly losing the fight.

Her impossibly tight little hole clenched and fluttered wildly against the blunt crown of him, as if the panicked muscle couldn’t decide whether to forcefully push him out or greedily suck him in.

That tender, forbidden ring was already stretched halfway to its absolute limit—hugging his thick flesh like a vice-grip fist, twitching erratically around the massive girth that was still slowly, inevitably sliding deeper. Every single time he paused his agonizing descent, she shook like a leaf. Every time he moved a fraction of an inch, she let out a broken whimper.

"Nnffhh... h-holy—d-don’t—" she gasped, the desperate words barely forming on her lips. Her voice cracked, ruined by her lack of breath. "Not—no, not more..."

But he was only halfway home.

Cruxius exhaled a slow, impossibly steady breath, his dark eyes half-lidded with dark pleasure. His powerful body didn’t rush the claim. He just leaned his heavy frame a little closer over her—and pushed.

Just a fraction more.

"Hhhhaaah—!"

Her raw scream split through the quiet room—a desperate sound that wasn’t even a word anymore, just a feral, half-choked cry that fractured halfway into a wet moan. Her spine bowed sharply. She grabbed violently at the bedsheets with both hands, her head snapping back into the pillows, her golden eyes impossibly wide, wet with tears, and full of absolute disbelief at the sheer size invading her.

Pah... pah... pah...

Tiny, wet sounds. His heavy hips brushing right against her flushed backside in small, rolling motions. He wasn’t even thrusting yet. He was just applying his crushing weight. Just pure, suffocating closeness. Just letting her fully feel the terrifying intrusion—letting her panic-stricken mind realize exactly how deep he already was, and just how much thick shaft was still left to bury.

Her soft ass jiggled helplessly beneath every small, grinding motion, the pale skin flushed a dark, angry red—not from bruises yet, just from the friction and radiating heat. Her breath hitched and violently stuttered in her bruised throat, coming in wild, sharp bursts exactly like a girl dangling precariously from a rooftop, completely unable to catch her air.

Her dark lashes fluttered rapidly. Her golden eyes weren’t even focused on the ceiling anymore.

A single, hot tear slid sideways down her flushed cheek, soaking into the pillowcase.

Her bruised lips trembled open, her tongue barely visible inside, incredibly slick and wet with saliva. She looked exactly like she wanted to speak again—maybe to launch another furious protest, maybe to finally plead for genuine mercy—but all that managed to escape her throat was a broken, pathetic murmur:

"Hhh—hhk... nnnh..."

Her exposed body started to tremble all over again, not in violent shakes, but in these tiny, helpless ripples of pure physical overload. She was clenched impossibly tight around him, her delicate rim squeezing his girth as if it were desperately trying to hold him perfectly still, but he could clearly feel the exact way her internal muscles were rapidly melting around his heat.

He casually adjusted his angle—just a subtle, dominant shift in his heavy hips.

And smoothly slid the rest of the way in.

Tkk—sklch—

Wet. Impossibly deep. Fully buried.

Her body physically snapped. Her spine arched to its absolute limit. Her thighs jumped violently. Her head jerked to the side like something vital inside her had finally broken completely loose and simply couldn’t be stuffed back into place.

"A-AHHHHHH—!"

Her piercing cry hit the heavy air like a sharp lightning crack—pitchy, high, and bordering on a full-blown sob. Her pale legs trembled violently where they were hooked over his broad shoulders, her delicate ankles slipping and frantically readjusting as her entire frame started to twitch uncontrollably.

Her breath hitched hard. Again. And again. Then it burst out of her in a long, ragged, wet moan—half terrified cry, half complete surrender—as her tight hole squeezed desperately around his massive length, acting as though it couldn’t physically take him, yet absolutely refused to let him slip out.

He stayed perfectly still.

Incredibly deep.

Buried to the hilt.

Her asshole twitched wildly around the thick, pulsing shaft lodged inside her, desperately trying to physically adjust. Trying to make any sense of the impossible stretch. The overwhelming pressure. The localized burn.

Her breathing came in tiny, pathetic sobs now—no more defiant words, just raw sound. Just pure animal survival.

He leaned his heavy chest down over her.

His mouth hovered right near her ear.

His dark voice was quiet.

"You’re not fragile, Lira," Cruxius whispered, his hot breath washing over her damp cheek. "You’re pure fire trapped in a glass. I just happen to know exactly how to pour it out."

Her bruised lips trembled.

Then parted wide.

One last, defeated moan escaped her—incredibly soft. Whimpering. A deeply pathetic sound, exactly like something sweet finally breaking apart under pressure.

"A-ahhh... Cruxius... nnnnnh..."

She didn’t finish the thought.

She physically couldn’t.

Her ruined body was doing all the answering for her now.

Cruxius still didn’t move.

Not quite yet.

He just held her firmly pinned there, buried impossibly deep, the thick, heavy pressure of his cock completely filling her tightest passage in ways her delicate body clearly wasn’t built to accommodate.

Her pale thighs were trembling violently—no longer resisting, no longer trying to pull away—just twitching in these weak, uneven, pathetic jerks that barely lifted off his broad shoulders before falling completely limp again.

Lira’s entire body had gone a deep, flushed crimson, her pale skin completely damp and glistening with sweat. Her spine arched in short, panicked, erratic pulses, each movement making her exposed chest rise and fall in a ragged, breathless rhythm.

"Hhh-hah... ahhh—nngh, f-fffuck... I-I can’t—!"

Her voice was rapidly crumbling into nothing now, barely more than a rush of air. She gasped sharply again, her lips incredibly wet and parted wide, her white teeth catching hard on her bottom lip exactly like she was desperately trying to bite the intense sensation away.

Then he pulled his hips back.

Just a single, agonizing inch.

"AH—!!"

She screamed. It was sharp and utterly shocked. Her manicured fingers clawed violently into the heavy sheets, her knuckles turning bone-white.

Her tight rim dragged heavily along his thick shaft, incredibly wet and instinctively resisting the movement, stretched to its absolute physical limit—it felt as though her body was desperately trying to cling to his flesh, even as the tight ring burned fiercely from the rough friction.