Many emotions passed through Dancer's eyes as Pride fucked her-fear, pain, shock, devotion, disgust, self-loathing-but all of it was a mere spark compared to the incredible, all-swallowing, rush of pleasure that proceeded from when he began to thrust. Her huge, sensitive breasts were mere playthings for his clawed hands, to be moulded and tweaked as he desired. For all the pleasure and skill he showed her in manipulating her teats, though, it was nothing compared to the powerful orgiastic pummeling he delivered to her weeping cunny.<br/><br/>Again and again he slammed in, causing her whole body to quiver and jiggle in his grasp, her limbs spasming where his powerful grip allowed. The wet slap of his body onto hers continued unabated, smearing her with the blood of her companions, but she didn't care. All she could feel was him. All she could see was him. All she wanted was him. After her fourth orgasm (or was it fifth? she was losing count), she impulsively reached up to seize his neck and drag him down into a passionate kiss, her tongue twisting coyly against his, begging him to take her mouth as he had before.