She might have blacked out for a moment, or perhaps lost herself within the safer corners of her mind while training her senses towards his cock. It shoved deeper, harder, emitting heavier moans that surfaced without end. But those sounds were muffled by a scarlet tasted, dragging her back to reality to remind her of the torn limbs. Pupils dilated while her chest tightened, she would have felt nauseous had the intense sensations not held her in place.<br/><br/>Iris felt her hand become sandwiched between their mouths, blood pooling between her lips and spilling a stream down her chin. Her eyes widened, tearfully watching Roan while his hold refused her any escape. His thrusts became relentless, stretching her ass wider just as his tongue parted the sliced muscle and flesh. She shrieked against the back of her hand, shoulders shaking while attempting to shake her head. But he wouldn't let her, he wanted to continue to play and bring her more agony.<br/><br/>Fresh tears followed a trail that now almost seemed natural down her face, and her fingers curled unwillingly once he poked his tongue against several tendons. The angel lowered her free hand, leaving a coating of red upon his cheek while the destroyed limb fell to the unsteady table. Pleasure, tension, agony, it was overpowering. It destroyed her mind and sent screams to widen her mouth and accept his tongue, all while her body jerked and quivered against his. Her legs kicked for freedom, to release any amount of torment that she could, but none of it helped.<br/><br/>As the torture became too much, the fallen woman felt a pit in her throat as she weakened. Eyes grew hazy, signs of being faint passing over her gaze as her body demanded a break from the horror. No longer was she wailing, and the push against his hold now felt nearly as if she were resting her head back. Darkness drifted over her as she passed out, weakening to allow her body to move more freely with the violent thrusts of his hips.