The atmosphere in the chamber shifted from mere lust to a state of pure, unadulterated carnage. Rex was no longer just fucking Cassandra; he was attempting to break the very concept of her existence.
He increased the violence of his movements, his hips moving with a frantic, piston-like speed that turned the wet slapping of their bodies into a continuous, deafening roar of "PLAP PLAP PLAP PLAP!"
His left arm, thick with corded muscle, tightened its grip around her throat. He wasn't just choking her now; he was controlling her very breath, forcing her to take in the air in jagged, desperate gulps that only served to fuel the fire in her veins.
His right hand remained buried in her hair, pulling her head back at a punishing angle so he could look down at the beautiful, ruined mess he was making of her.
"MY LORD! HAAH... MY LORD! AAAAHHH!"
The words spilled from Cassandra's lips in a broken, rhythmic chant. She wasn't calling him a conqueror or a king; she was calling him Lord.
