Veyna's pussy clenched like a spasm, hot and obscene, gripping him like a vice as wetness flooded her thighs, her cursed fire flaring, her small breasts bouncing with each movement.
He growled, his voice rough, "You fail this, you die." His hands dug into her hips, his cock throbbing inside her, his restraint a quiet battle as her tight walls threatened to pull him over the edge.
She grinned over her shoulder, her slitted eyes wild, "Better make me finish, then."
Her voice was a taunt, her pussy pulsing with manic lust, daring him to lose.
She didn't crawl—she ran, her first lunge forward rocking Kota off-balance, her hands slamming into the moss with reckless power.
Her legs kicked behind her, fucking herself backward on his cock with each thrust of her crawl, her plump ass clapping against him—wet, loud, filthy, the sound echoing through the jungle like a primal drum.
