10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 55 - Clapped to Unconsciousness
Water sloshed hard against the walls of the tub, splashing over the sides, running in thin rivulets down to the floor. His hands gripped her hips—fingers leaving bruises she’d count tomorrow—and he fucked her with long, hammering strokes that pushed her forward and dragged her back, each impact a wet smack of skin that echoed off the tiles.
Pah. Pah. PAH. PAH.
"Ahn~!! MNGH~!! AHH~!! HEKK~!!"
"You said you’d kill me," he said, barely winded, low and almost amused even while he was splitting her open from behind.
"I—WILL—" she cried, each word broken by a thrust, tears streaming freely down her face now—not from pain alone, not from shame alone, but from the unbearable, overloading pressure of too much sensation piling on top of itself. "You—disgusting—absolute—AANGHH~!!"
PAAAH.
One deep, long thrust that bottomed out and stayed there.
"HIYAAAHH~!!" Her voice cracked into a near-scream, water splashing violently as her hips jolted forward. Her thighs shook so badly she could barely hold position.
He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, lips finding the shell of her ear.
"Still want me to stop?"
Her mouth opened. Nothing sensible came out. Just a muffled, wrecked, "...no..."
She hated herself for it immediately.
He smiled against her neck. And then his thumb—slick with water—pressed against her rear entrance.
"W-WHAT—" Her head snapped back. "Don’t you dare—that’s—you can’t—"
"Relax," he said simply, and the single finger pressed in slowly, just to the first knuckle.
The dual sensation—him buried thick inside her pussy and his thumb pressing into her rear—made her vision fragment entirely. She made a sound she didn’t have a name for, high and broken and desperate, her hands clawing at the tub edge.
"Cruxius—I—it’s too—I can’t—"
He started moving again.
PAH. PAH. PAH.
"UNGH~!! AHH~!! NNGH~!!"
His thumb worked in slow opposition to his thrusts, pressing in as he withdrew, pulling slightly as he drove forward—and the sensation was so overwhelming, so layered, so utterly too much that tears ran freely down her face and she cried through every single moan.
PAH. PAH. PAAAH.
"AANGH~!! HIEE~!! OHHH~!!"
"C-Cruxius—" Her voice was barely recognizable, scraping out between sobs and gasps. "I c-can’t—please—I can’t—take anymore—please—"
"Yes you can." He pulled the thumb out, gripped both her hips instead, and changed his angle.
The head of his cock dragged across something that made her entire body convulse.
"THERE—RIGHT—CRUXIUS—DON’T STOP—" The words ripped out of her before she could stop them, shameless and desperate, her hips pushing back against him with a need that had completely swallowed her earlier resistance.
He gave her exactly what she asked for.
PAH. PAH. PAH. PAH. PAH.
"Ahn~!! Ungh~!! Hnn~!! AAHH~!! MMGH~!!"
Water was everywhere—over the edge, across the floor, splashing with every brutal thrust, her wet hair whipping, breasts swinging in the water with the force of him. The sound of wet skin and water and her broken, obscene moaning filled the bathroom completely.
He reached forward, one hand winding in her wet hair—and pulled.
Her head snapped back, spine arching, throat bared.
"You’re mine," he said, low and certain, the way someone states a fact.
"H-hate... you..." she sobbed out, even now, even with her pussy clenching desperately around him, even with her orgasm coiling so tight it hurt.
PAAAH. PAAAH.
"AANGHH~!!" "UNGHH~!! CRUX—I’M—"
"Come," he said simply. Like an order.
And her body obeyed.
Her pussy clamped around him in deep, rhythmic pulses—she came hard, wailing, the sound too raw to be embarrassed by, her whole frame shaking as the orgasm crashed through her in waves that went on and on. Water splashed violently over the tub edge as her thighs kicked.
He didn’t stop.
He kept going—through every clench, every sob, every twitching aftershock—until she was crying openly, begging him between gasps.
"P-please—I came—I c-can’t—Cruxius—please—"
"Almost," he said, the strain finally showing in his voice, his grip on her hips tightening to bruising. His pace went ragged, deeper, losing the rhythm in the final stretch—
PAAAH. PAAAH. PAAAH.
"MNGHH~!! AAHH~!! HNNGH~!!"
He buried himself completely—deep, final, shuddering—and came inside her.
She felt it. Every pulse of him releasing, flooding her, hot and unmistakable, his entire body pressing against her back as his hips ground forward with slow, exhausted strokes, working himself through it.
"Ngh..." The sound he made against the back of her neck was low, rough, not particularly dignified.
Thalia could no longer feel her legs. Or her arms. Or most of her thoughts.
She was still shaking.
He turned her again—she barely registered it—and somehow she was back in his lap, facing forward, his softening cock still inside her, her back against his chest, both of them submerged to the waist in bathwater that was no longer warm.
His hands found her breasts again. Just cupping them this time. Still.
"Y-you..." she tried to start something. An insult. A threat. Something.
His thumb brushed her nipple. Just barely.
"...I’ll deal with you..." she murmured, the sentence slurring halfway through.
"Mm," he agreed.
Her fingers moved weakly against his forearm. Trying to pull his hand away. Not quite getting there.
His fingers kept stroking—slow, steady—working her gently now, no urgency, just the lazy drag of his thumb over her sensitive peak again and again until she couldn’t keep a single thought assembled.
Her pussy was still fluttering weakly around him. Soft, exhausted, spent.
He added a second finger—slow, deep, crooking—and she made a sound more like a whimper than anything else, her head rolling back against his shoulder.
"Cruxius..." She whispered his name, but the anger behind it was finally, completely gone. Just the sound of it left. His name in her mouth, small and worn.
Then his hand twisted her nipple—sharp, sudden—
"Nnggh—KYAHH—!!"
She screamed one last time.
Her back bowed hard into his chest, lips trembling, eyes going wide—then empty—her body spasming through a final, obliterating peak that took the last thing she had left. Her pussy clenched, gushed weakly, her moan dying somewhere between his shoulder and silence.
Her hands fell off the edge of the tub.
Her head went limp against him.
Cruxius didn’t speak. He just held her—his hand slowly withdrawing from her twitching pussy, the other still cradling her breast, thumb brushing one last, lazy circle over the peak.
Her breathing slowed. Evened out. Deepened.
The water lapped quietly at the edges of the tub.
And just like that—she was out.
