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Luz already had chills creeping down the knobbed length of her spine the moment she set a foot on the graveyard, but she initially tied it up to the overall spookiness revolving around Halloween and her own anxiety caused by the prior mention of Belos.
However, once she heard the familiar voice behind herself, her heart went stone-still inside her chest and her blood ran cold. Recklessly, she quickly whipped around and let out a startled gasp, almost coming face to face with Hunter.
If that was still what she could call the person standing in front of her.
The pair of piercing, blue eyes kept her helplessly paralyzed in place, her own irises shrinking in overwhelming fright. It still felt too much like a night terror for her to completely wrap her head around the reality of the situation.
Her throat felt strangled, too tight to squeeze any words through the thin pinhole it had been reduced to. Still, she gulped heavily and forced herself to choke out in disbelief, “Y-you… You survived!”
Philip hummed, lips curling in a faint, amused smile. A sense of wrongness washed over Luz at once — somehow merely watching Hunter’s body be without his consent felt like a back-stabbing betrayal. She felt like she should avert her gaze out of respect.
He crossed his arms behind his back and pushed out his chest, straightening his posture and sighing contently at the unsettling sound of creaking joints. Luz flinched, face scrunched up sympathetically. She personally hated how her back popped each time she spent too much time leaning over her desk.
Then he finally answered deliberately, “I did.” If she thought the earlier talk about Belos had her on edge, now she was hanging off of that cliff.
Luz felt like she was going to be sick. Her stomach churned loudly, probably already twisted into all kinds of knots from the stress she was put under. Her heart kept struggling with slowing down from the frantic hummingbird pace it kicked up to in blind panic.
As civil as Philip might have appeared now, an unspoken, unpredictable threat was hanging in the air, she was sure of it.
Luz could vividly recall hugging Hunter a few nights prior. Both were kept up by the weight of their guilt and somehow they had ended up together in the kitchen, each with a cup of steaming hot chamomile tea, when she heartfeltly promised him that Philip would never hurt him — or any of them, for that matter — again.
And there Hunter was now, possessed by the very man who was supposed to be resting in peace — not in pieces, and especially not those that could seemingly travel between realms.
Was Hunter in pain? Did possession even hurt? Luz didn’t know much about it, truth to be told, but maybe if Eda was here…
Tears glistened in her eyes and she blinked them away forcefully before they became too much of a problem. She blew some air through her nose, trying to imperceptibly cool off her rapidly heating-up face and keep her emotions in check.
Luz had to stay strong because there were people worth being strong for — and if not for herself, then she ought to do it for them. For Hunter.
She quickly reached for a glyph from her waist bag, a dual one she drew back at the clinic to keep her skills sharp in spite of lack of magic in the Human Realm. But the glyphs did work now, meaning they had to be very close to the Titan’s Blood.
She mustn’t falter, not now. Not ever again.
Luz decisively activated the glyph, swiftly sending a flurry of thick mist into the air around them. Thinking fast on her feet, she used the distraction to find some cover — she ducked behind one of the gravestones, her next move already being honed inside her head, as moldable and adaptive as liquid steel.
Flapjack caught her attention with a quiet, fearful chirp and hopped towards her.
“Flapjack,” she whispered out gently, not wanting to further scare the palisman. She immediately took it into her trembling hands and pet its feathers soothingly. She had to get Flapjack far away from here.
Think, Luz, think!
She remembered the first time they fought; him playing with her like a cat would with its catch, only seeking entertainment and not having any intent to actually kill. Then something changed and came the scuffle at the Head where she almost met her rapid demise.
But back then he was still Belos. Now the circumstances were different; he was without his staff and — Luz cringed at herself internally for thinking that way — hindered by a human body. That was a whole new situation right there.
New didn’t mean better, however. And definitely not until she at least tried.
She took a deep breath in, perched the palisman up on her shoulder, and pulled out a couple of glyphs to stack them into a neat deck in her hand. It felt weirdly nostalgic in a way, like dusting off an old photo album, and in the same manner the memories flipped inside her mind page by page. Her heart throbbed longingly.
Luz clenched her other hand into a tight fist, suppressing the trembling that seemingly rocked her whole body, and dared to peek from behind her cover only to find out that Philip wasn’t even after her. Instead, he kept threading through the graveyard, sniffing the air and digging into the ground with his bare hands like a hound.
She narrowed her gaze quizzically, pride only slightly bruised. Did he deem her that little of a threat that he actually… ignored her?
Then the realization slapped her crudely across the face and once the thoughts finally clicked, everything was made painfully obvious. He’s looking for the Titan’s Blood, she panicked and her heart stirred up again, rumbling inside her chest like a faulty engine.
The muted sounds of her friends’ voices reached her ears, and she twitched, craning her neck in their direction. She bit her bottom lip. As tempting as sneaking away and returning with backup sounded, she couldn’t.
The last fight they had with Belos they’d have all ended up dead if it weren’t for the Collector. And Hunter… Luz couldn’t just leave him behind with that monster unattended, not when she had already abandoned Eda and King when they needed her the most…
No, she had to stay there and confront him, try to stall him and buy her friends enough time to find them — and then what? But in her mind there was no other viable choice at that moment and no time to ponder.
There was courage to be found in the pain, so she sprung out of her hideout and advanced onto Philip, face tight with determination. Her hand decisively tapped the plant glyph and sent a thick vine twisting his way, hoping to get a lucky hit by catching him off guard. His attention quickly switched from his search to her and his arm, pulsating nauseatingly with the curse, swiftly gained in length and cut through it in one swing.
Agitated, he flailed his arm at Luz with a deep growl — a sound especially unnerving with Hunter’s voice lacing it — and she barely dodged, tumbling down onto the ground with a shriek. Thankfully Flapjack took off before the hit landed and was now safely flapping his wings in the sky, to her relief.
Her hat, now rippled, was laying on the ground alongside her wig and Luz idly thought that it could have been her head instead had she not been quick enough. Imagining that sight alone made bile rise to the back of her throat.
She grabbed another glyph, heart thundering madly inside her chest. It was so loud she was certain Philip could hear it as well, maybe he could even sense its vibrations through the ground. He looked human enough, sure, but it wasn’t his body, she had to remind herself — he was just as much of a beast, a monster, as he was before, so who knew.
If anything, now he seemed to have stooped to a new low, which — considering everything that had happened so far — was just as impressive as it was frightening in Luz’s opinion.
Philip clicked his tongue disapprovingly, eyeing her with a slight lift to his eyebrows. “Easy now. You wouldn’t want to hurt your friend, would you?”
Then, ever the manipulator, he easily mirrored the gentle expression Hunter usually donned on his resting face. The accuracy made her insides squirm dreadfully. What if he was with them for much longer than that — just biding his time, observing them all through unsuspecting Hunter’s eyes?
Luz hated how if she didn’t know any better right now, if his eyes were the same color and a crude pair of antlers wasn’t sticking out from his head, she might have not noticed anything wrong. She wouldn’t be able to sense the eerie quality of some twisted body-hijacker mingling with them right under her nose.
You hadn’t at first, upon entering the graveyard, bounced in the back of her head traitorously.
What did that say of her as a friend?
She narrowed her eyes at him, her glare turning positively venomous. To some extent she could presume Hunter would genuinely want her to do anything it took to end Belos once and for all, even if that meant destroying him in the process.
But, as much as it pained her, she had to agree with Philip.
Luz pressed her lips into a thin line, a muscle twitching in her jaw as she did, and aggressively crumpled the glyph in her hand before shoving it back into her waist bag.
Philip smiled, lazy and coy, with his eyes hooded — an expression that looked so uncomfortably out of place on Hunter’s face, it made an invisible hand clench her guts like a stress toy.
Luz wanted to punch him and wipe that smug look off his face, but she didn’t want to hurt Hunter.
He hummed contently, clearly pleased with her forced compliance. “Human Realm…” he trailed off solemnly, gaze weirdly distant, longing, as if he wasn’t right there already. “Just a few months ago you were so desperate to come back home and now you’re so eager to go back?”
She snorted grimly, eyes focused. “Same as you.”
Philip chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Looks like our goals finally align, don’t they?”
He stalked closer to her so as the obvious consequence she slowly stepped back, maintaining the meager distance between them. Philip moved the same way he talked — leisurely, alluringly, like Luz was one to fall for his charms. Truth to be told, she already had, hadn’t she?
He reminded her of Hunter in a way, the one she met at the very beginning — a cocky, self-assured Golden Guard who wanted to steam both her and Eda above the Boiling Sea. It came almost naturally to her mind to excuse it by picturing that Hunter with pale blue eyes and green blemishes.
She shook her head, pleadingly whisking all those pesky thoughts out.
“Our? Keep me out of your messed-up plans,” Luz basically spat out, infuriated. “You want to, what, continue your killing spree? And, what, maybe you think I will help you achieve that? After everything that happened?” she asked incredulously, voice winding up more insane-sounding with each new question.
His lips curled smugly. “Help me again, you mean?”
Luz’s heart dropped all the way down to her stomach, creating a ruckus in her guts and making her feel like she was about to puke. Don’t think too much about it, girl. It’s Belos. It’s just Belos.
“Yeah, yeah, fine! I won’t help you again,” she spewed her words quickly, a dim flame of irritation licking up her nerves. Then she lifted her eyebrow up, hoping she accurately conveyed You happy now? with that small action.
Philip clicked his tongue, face pinched in that tired, grandfatherly way. Hunter’s face was too young for that. “I’m doing it for the good of humanity,” he said explanatorily, voice calm and soft, as if he still believed Luz’s mind could be changed. Or maybe he just wanted her to think that way.
Meddling in her head, making her mind replay his words, her thoughts weren’t her own anymore — he put them there.
“You’re full of shit,” she replied finally, bewildered. “You talk a big game about saving humanity, but there’s none of it even left inside you!” She furiously brandished an accusatory finger at him, any possible consequences to her actions lost on her in the heat of the moment.
He sighed heavily, then flapped a hand at her. “Look at yourself.”
Luz did, unconsciously, before her mind caught up.
“That hellish realm has changed you, Luz.”
“Yeah, it did change me,” she agreed plainly, then smirked and looked up at him defiantly. “For the better.” Everything considered, she wouldn’t exchange that time for anything else in the world.
Philip stared at her back impassively with those unnerving blank eyes she imagined could see right into the darkest depths of her soul. Finally, his face twisted in visible displeasure — disappointment even, if she were to take a closer look — and he asked, voice heavy with disdain. “So that’s how you want to be?”
Luz squinted, fists clenching tightly at her sides. She wouldn’t grace him with an answer, so she let the silence speak in her name.
“Very well then.”
What happened next took place so quickly Luz was sure she’d miss it all if she had blinked. His right hand backhanded her, and she was sure to fall to the ground had the same arm not seized her right afterwards.
And yet he didn’t look angry in the slightest, that was the scariest part.
He squeezed her carelessly, making her cry out in pain at the bruising force around her ribcage. In that moment she felt especially sympathetic towards all the palismen that met the same — if not less forgiving — fate.
Luz thought inanely about how Philip may not like what would come out of her if he kept up with that treatment. Less desirable than the palisman essence unless he dabbled in some cannibalism lately.
Flapjack rapidly dove down and immediately darted towards Hunter’s hair, pulling at them forcefully and chirping anxiously between the tugs. Usually, it worked like a charm to pull Hunter out of his own head, but this time it was not the case.
Was her friend even still there? Did he feel the control slowly spinning away from his grasp, or was it more like a flip of a switch? As nosy as it might’ve been of her, she hoped they’d both make it out alive so that Hunter could tell the tale.
Philip growled, scrunching his face in pure irritation and by the looks of it — Luz was certain she never wanted to see Hunter get genuinely angry. He caught the bird with his other arm and the palisman chirped in distress.
Heart almost jumped all the way up to her throat when a green fog obscured the view in her mind’s eye. Disregarding her own safety, Luz struggled in his hold frantically, furiously scratching and digging her nails into Philip’s cursed flesh, leaving behind a field of small, crescent imprints.
Sorry, Hunter.
Did he even feel anything?
The palisman thrashed as well, clenched in his iron grip, its chirps were growing more desperate and as a last resort, Luz braced herself and bit him. She pressed her teeth down and clamped her jaw, fully prepared to rip out a piece of his flesh if a need be.
He tastes like a moldy sandwich, she thought before gagging and lolling her tongue out in disgust. It’d take more than mouthwash to get rid of that aftertaste, she was sure of it already.
Philip’s arm shook as if with a spasm and loosened its hold on Luz enough for her to wrangle her way out. She dropped onto the ground with a loud huff. Then the other arm let go of Flapjack in favor of clutching his right forearm. He sounded pained, but Luz couldn’t find any compassion left for him inside her.
It tweeted again and swiftly flew away, steering in the direction of the equally concerned calls of the search party. They were slowly inching closer.
Luz allowed herself a small sigh of relief — Hunter’s palisman was safe and sound, but now she seemed to have a bigger problem at hand. Philip recovered from whatever turmoil had temporarily compromised him and was scowling at her.
She gulped audibly. Hunter was right saying she didn’t always think things through.
His hand clenched erratically a couple of time, famished curse reacting to the fantom flow of a cracked palisman’s soul. Not today, Belos, she thought triumphantly.
He straightened his back, labored breathing shallowing once again; Luz could hear some faint whistles, probably caused by Hunter’s tooth gap. She’d get them both out of here, she promised.
Right now, though, it seemed that she has slipped down a slope she couldn’t climb back up.
“I’ve given you chances time and time again to retreat from that damned path,” Philip said, none of that fake pleasantries he tried to fool her with before remaining. His tone was so cold, it gave Luz goosebumps. “But if you so deeply desire to keep affirming with those witches… Then perhaps it’s about time you get treated like one.” Hatred, thick like molasses spilled out of his mouth.
Months ago being compared to a real witch — being seen as one, even — would be nothing short of thrilling for her. Even now those words flared something inside her, but from Philip’s mouth they were more of a curse than any sort of a blessing.
Oh, to be a witch standing an arm’s reach away from a witch hunter.
Luz’s heart stuttered, sweat dripped down the slope of her back in thin cascades, and her body was pulled taut like a string. An uncomfortable prickling sensation cramped her muscles as she once again recalled the fight on the Day of Unity — she almost ended up petrified. She hugged herself reassuringly with her own arms, providing herself with an ounce of much-needed comfort.
She shook in her boots, but she blamed it on her costume failing in the low temperature.
Then Philip moved and although she should have known better, pushed by the suddenly overwhelming fear clawing at her guts, she turned around on her heels and bolted, almost slipping on the damp grass as she ran.
He smiled faintly, watching her with a glint of amusement. His arm struck her from behind with ease — Luz neither fast nor agile enough to dodge it this time — and shoved her down. She lost her step, ankle twisting uncomfortably, and a sharp pain shivered up her leg from her foot. Her whole body tensed protectively and she managed to get one more rushed step in before she completely lost her balance and toppled onto the next nearest thing — a grave. How fitting, considering how Luz was now almost certain she was a dead girl walking.
Her side throbbed and stung scathingly from the gritty friction that rubbed it raw, ruining that part of her dress. She cried out in pain.
Before she could even think about trying to stand up, vigorously praying her ankle wasn’t sprained or even worse — fractured, Philip was already next to her.
He tsked mockingly. “Careful now. You wouldn’t want me to make you some crutches, would you?”
Being petty, she grabbed a fistful of dirt and chucked it behind herself, hoping to hit him in the face. He growled in irritation again and Luz hated how at this point it sounded almost natural in Hunter’s voice.
If they made it out alive, would she be able to look at her friend the same?
A cruel hand gripped her curls and yanked her head up, forcing her to look Philip straight in the eye. Her neck ached, craned at a painful angle, but she sucked it up, not wanting to show him any weakness if she could otherwise help it.
Luz wobbled back onto her feet, supported by the crude and forceful tug of his hand. Then once his hold subsided, she desperately lunged forward again and her leg buckled under her weight, a shudder cramping her muscles and having her collapse onto the same gravestone again.
Philip’s hand, a slimy mess of cursed flesh and gnarly claws, caught her by the throat. Terrified by the very real possibility of having it sliced because of one misplaced move, she stayed still, breathing shallowly through her nose.
“Are you done making ruckus?” he asked with exaggerated tiredness to his voice. As if she was inconveniencing him with her resistance.
Luz laughed, a wet and ugly sound, and some blood spurted out of her mouth. Right, she thought haltingly, he hit me. She tentatively brushed her tongue over her teeth and felt one wobble under the slight pressure. She winced.
He hmphed, shrugging nonchalantly. “Very well, stay silent. You’re only doing me a favor.”
Philip’s free hand seamlessly sliced through the thin fabric of her leggings, the claws grazing her skin in the process and making some blood bubble up shyly to the surface. She let out a tremulous breath, throat bulging against the hand clenched around it. Then he made quick work of her panties, leaving her bottom completely bare.
That same hand splayed itself over her quivering pelvis — only then did Luz notice her body shaking against him. Philip’s pinky finger nudged her clit with a sharp claw, making her breath hitch again as she squirmed, legs trembling.
The dull throbbing in her foot was a mere afterthought now, shoved somewhere deep and forgotten.
Suddenly he rested his head on her shoulder, Hunter’s hair tickling her neck — it has gotten so long already, maybe this time it’d be her turn to trim it? She knew Willow was quite fond of that particular duty, but it was only fair to share, after all.
It started to look so fluffy since Luz introduced him to the hair conditioner. It was a shame Hunter was very… peculiar about having his hair touched.
A familiar voice pulled her out of her own head. “What’s wrong, Luz?” It sounded almost identical to Hunter’s and it made her sob. It’d be so much easier to have Belos’ monstrous frame pressed up against her back instead of her friend’s body.
Despite her better judgment, she peeked at his face and was rapidly forced to do a double-take, eyes widening in shock. She was staring right into a pair of magenta eyes, briefly taking note of the confused furrow and twitch of his brows.
Luz forced her swollen tongue to move, quickly stumbling over her words, “H-hunter!”
The abrupt movement caused one sharp claw against her neck to pierce through the tender skin. It was a minor and shallow cut, nothing dangerous, but tears flowed to her eyes all the same. She ignored them.
His feverish eyes reacted to her voice, narrowing cautiously and darting to her own glance as he spoke up again absentmindedly, “Luz…”
“Y-yeah, it’s me,” she choked out, face blotched red and wet. “Don’t worry, I’ll— I’ll get us out of here,” she added weakly. She wasn’t quite sure if she was necessarily saying it to him or herself.
Hunter’s face twisted in pain, his breath quickly turning labored and desperate. His whole body was trembling, moving staggeringly as if he wasn’t used to the feeling of steering his own flesh and bone. Sweat dripped down his pinched brow.
Luz was once again struck in the chest by the blunt volatility of their situation. “Oh, no, no,” she mumbled under her breath. “Fight him off, Hunter! I know you can!” she cried out in desperation.
The only thing left for her to do was rooting for him in that internal battle.
He whined, a gut-punching and wet noise that made Luz wince in sympathy. His head hung lowly and she observed mutely, too scared to even take a breath.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity for her, Hunter gradually raised his head — her heart skipped a beat — and cracked his neck, and then as the blue glow seeped back into his eyes, he was once again Philip. His face was tense, nose scrunched up in annoyance.
This grimwalker was a persistent one, wasn’t he?
He huffed lightly, brows twitching here and there — he was probably fatigued from beating Hunter up into some desolate corner of his own body — and only then did he turn his attention back to Luz.
“Let’s begin, shall we?”
She didn’t even fully process the previous situation, and she was immediately plunged into another. “N-no, wait— Bel— Philip, please—” She almost bit her tongue, feeling his hand slide between her legs.
Two of his fingers bracketed her clit, making her gasp involuntarily and try to squirm away. The space between her legs was far too narrow to accommodate the entire size of his hand, causing the rest of the claws to dig into her thighs, leaving behind a hot sting.
Then he rubbed her nub insistently, roughly kneading the soft flesh under his fingertips; working her up for a reaction, as if he hadn’t drawn enough of those out of her already. Luz sobbed, her chest heaving with panic.
In spite of the breathless flow of her No, no, no, please! Philip forced two of his digits inside her pussy, brutally pushing them inside, accompanied by her pitiful struggling. To her scant comfort, she realized he scaled them down and dulled his claws. He refused to feel thankful for it, however.
As soon as they sank in, he forced them apart, roughly scissoring and working her cunt open. It hurt in the same way she imagined having a knife twisted into your guts would. She whined again, both hands tightly pressing over her mouth to stifle the gurgles coming from her throat.
Philip chuckled faintly, taking an idle note of her actions, and said with a glint of amusement, “Suit yourself.”
His fingers prodded around her walls carelessly, drawing a whimper after a body-shuddering sob from her strained throat, and making upset tears trickle down her flushed cheeks. She wasn’t enjoying herself, a far cry from it, actually, but her body didn’t care about the nuances of how, it only registered how his fingers shifted inside her hole, prodding a bundle of sensitive nerves that made her hips buck against her own will.
Then the fingers slipped out and he removed his hand from between her legs altogether, but her relief was short-lived since he then forced it into her mouth. She whined around the mass straining her mouth to a severe degree, the taste of her own slick being rubbed into her tongue and making her shudder.
Her jaw began to ache and she groaned around Philip’s hand, the mustiness of his cursed flesh made her mouth feel swollen and got her stomach churning threateningly. She clenched her eyes shut, helplessness making them leak like two broken faucets.
The hand pulled out, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste and a few blots of green sludge which Luz might have unknowingly swallowed some of. Philip squished her tear-stained cheeks together, claws painfully digging into her soft skin, and watched attentively as her face contorted and her lip wobbled each time she stole a glance of him.
She gripped the stone slab tightly with both hands, knuckles nearly turning white, trying to distract herself from the dire situation with the gritty drag of the uneven surface, small grains bulging under her fingertips.
It wasn’t much of a relief because, while grounding, it was nowhere near enough to tune out the way Philip forced her down, the top of the grave painfully pressing onto her stomach and making her nauseous. Luz was dangerously balancing on the ridge — one too harsh of a shove and she could tip over and fall onto her face, so she kept her back arched to hopefully balance it out.
Philip finally worked his pants open — probably struggling a bit with a more modern type of a zipper, if she were to point out a reason — and then tugged the briefs just low enough to free his hardening cock. He used the cold saliva still coating his hand to lube himself up, although it was far too little to actually do anything to ease the sure-to-be painful friction.
It was performative, just like everything else he ever did, wasn’t it?
He hunched over Luz, Hunter’s body not that much taller than her own so her quivering back fit snugly pressed against his solid chest — not all muscle anymore, though, since Camila was feeding them well, Hunter the most of all. Philip lined himself up, insensible to her panicked breathing and loud sniffing. Her face must have looked all kinds of gross now.
She had no one to blame but herself for this. He gave her a chance, far too many of them, just like he said, and she made her choice.
Luz shut her eyes.
She tried to retreat into some quiet place inside her mind, some empty crevice she could temporarily abide in until her torment came to an end. She began thinking about the newest Azura movie she had watched snuggled into Amity’s side, then her loathed History homework waiting for her on her desk, next she zapped by to her vault of worried thoughts dedicated to the entirety of the Boiling Isles.
But Philip’s presence against her back was too much to tune out, so all that was left for her to do was to play the cards she was dealt.
Her eyes flickered under her eyelids when Philip began to unapologetically force his cock right to the hilt in one brutal thrust. A sob got stuck inside of her throat and all that came out was punched-out, warm air.
In her mind’s eye, she was still bent over a grave, but instead of Hunter’s possessed body, pressed tightly to her back was Belos himself — the monstrous form more akin of a demon or a wild beast than a human. His one enormous hand — paw? — was more than enough to keep her whole body effectively pinned down without a chance for escape.
The beast didn’t whisper mockeries into her ear, slippery tongue tracing the sensitive shell. In fact it was too tall and bulky to even crane its neck low enough to get on the level of her head. And it was the better reality.
Belos grunted, low and guttural, as he brutally thrusted his hips into her. Luz whined again, wanting nothing more but to curl up into the fetal position in her own bed and cry to her heart’s content.
A hand traveled her clothed chest and roughly grabbed one of her perky breasts; the reality jarring with her fantasy. Her body shuddered, the overwhelming urge to scratch the places he had touched to blood began spreading inside her like a wildfire.
Philip’s arms entangled under her chest and yanked her tighter towards him in a poor imitation of a Heimlich maneuver. Frankly, at that point, she wasn’t quite sure what else he would want to choke out of her except for her soul.
His pace quickened, thrusts in and out of her becoming more desperate and sloppy with each shove. A hand forced itself between Luz’s legs again and assaulted her swollen clit. She sobbed, muscles stiffening, bracing themselves for the sharp sensation of claws that’d make her bleed once again, but none of the sorts came.
After what felt like eternity, Philip’s breathing against her neck finally labored — sounding to her own ears like nothing more but growls and bellows — and he plowed into her harshly for the last time before biting down on her neck, leaving behind the imprints of Hunter’s crooked teeth.
Before long, she felt her own orgasm tingling low in the cradle of her hips, but she couldn’t help but feel cold when he finally slipped out of her and a messy dribble of his come mixed with her blood frothed out of her abused hole, leaving her abdomen cramped with awful, acute pain.
Luz allowed tears to flow down her face freely this time, fully conscious and approving, and her limbs twitched, trying to keep her upright now that Philip moved away from her.
“Now.” He straightened his back — the loud crack of bones reaching Luz’s ears, but not fully registering in her brain — before he asked idly, stroking his chin, as if he had truly forgotten, “Where were we?”
A truly inane thought suddenly popped up in her mind when a gust of wind brushed against her arm — her costume's sleeve had ripped.