Her yellow cat eyes were wide open but completely unfocused—teary, hazy, lost. She wasn't thinking anymore. Couldn't think. Just feeling. Drowning in sensation.
Her silver tail—which had been injured before—was now completely healed. The small bandage-like cloth that had covered the wound was gone, replaced by perfect silver fur.
Her tail wrapped around Viktor's hips for support, the soft fur rubbing against his lower back almost desperately, as if begging for mercy.
Viktor's free hand groped her hip, fingers sinking into her soft flesh, holding her in place as his tongue continued its assault on her mouth.
"Mmmph~! Nyaah~! Mmmm~!"
Her claws dug into his shoulders, drawing small beads of blood. Her small body trembled so violently she looked like she might shatter.
"P-please—Young Master—" Helena gasped, her voice breaking with each thrust. "Slow down—I can't—ahhn~!—I'm going to—break—!"
PHACK!
