Chapter 973. Kissing While Mating? That’s The Best Thing Ever!**

Chapter 973: 973. Kissing While Mating? That’s The Best Thing Ever!**

The psychic torment within Veylor reached a fever pitch that felt like it would tear his spectral essence apart. Seeing Iris, the woman who had always been his moral compass, being physically dominated and silenced was a pain worse than any death.

"NO! STOP IT!"

"IRIS, LOOK AT ME! PLEASE!" Veylor shrieked, his voice a silent torrent of anguish.

He threw himself against the invisible barrier separating him from the living world, clawing at nothingness. "DON’T LET HIM DO THIS!"

"DON’T LET HIM BREAK YOU! IRIS!" But his screams fell on deaf ears.

To Iris and Rex, he was nothing more than a cold breeze in a room already heavy with heat.

Rex, feeling the vibrations of Iris’s muffled cries against his lips, pulled back just an inch, only enough to speak directly into her mouth, his breath hot and reeking of dominance. His hand remained locked around the back of her neck like a vice, forcing her face inches from his.

"And don’t you dare stop fucking me while we’re kissing, understood...?" Rex growled, his eyes narrowing with sadistic intent. "I want you grinding on me while I taste your desperation."

"I want to feel you sucking my cock while you suck my mouth... Now, prove you’re mine."

For a heartbeat, a spark of defiance flickered in Iris’s eyes. Her brows furrowed, her expression twisting into something resembling genuine anger, a flash of the warrior she used to be.

She looked at Rex with pure, unadulterated hatred. But then, she glanced toward the space where Veylor’s presence lingered, sensing the invisible agony radiating from him.

She knew that if she stopped, if she showed even a shred of resistance now, Rex would turn his cruelty toward Veylor’s soul.

She took a shuddering, ragged breath, her chest heaving against Rex’s. Slowly, almost painfully, she closed her eyes.

The defiance died, replaced by a hollow, terrifying resignation.

Then, she did something that made Veylor’s soul recoil in horror.

Iris didn’t wait for Rex to take his turn again. She leaned forward, initiating the contact.

Her hands slid from the back of her head to grip Rex’s face with surprising strength. She pressed her lips to his with a ferocity that was both obscene and desperate.

She began to suck on his mouth, her tongue sliding past his teeth to claim his as she mimicked the very act of passion she was supposed to be resisting.

"Mmmmnnnnnhhh... mmmph!" The sounds she made were muffled by their joined mouths, but the wet, sloppy noise of their tongues clashing was unmistakable.

SLURP. SQUELCH.

Rex’s eyes didn’t close. Instead, he deliberately kept them open, fixed directly on the space where Veylor’s terrified face was suspended.

He wanted the ghost to see. He wanted Veylor to witness every second of her complicity.

A cruel, triumphant smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched the horror unfold in Veylor’s unseen eyes.

Emboldened by her sudden aggression, Rex drove his hips upward with devastating force.

THUD. SQUELCH.

The impact sent a jolt through Iris’s spine, but she didn’t break the kiss. Instead, she rode the pain, her hips moving in a frantic, circular grinding motion that made her cunt milk his cock with desperate hunger.

SQUISH. SLAP. SQUISH.

"That’s it... fuck yes..." Rex groaned into her mouth, his voice vibrating through her skull. "Suck me dry, you fucking whore!"

"Show me how much you love being my slave."

Iris’s hips became a blur of motion. She was pouring every ounce of her grief, her guilt, and her twisted love for Veylor into the rhythm.

Each thrust was deeper than the last, each grind more obscene. The sound of her wetness spraying against his thighs—SPLASH, SQUELCH—filled the room as she surrendered completely to the act of degradation.

Veylor could only watch in silent, impotent agony as Iris, his Iris, became a creature of pure, unthinking lust, performing for a demon while she used her own body as a sacrificial altar to save a soul that could now only watch her burn.

The chamber seemed to warp under the sheer intensity of the violation. Iris had crossed a threshold from which there was no return; she was no longer merely submitting; she was performing with a terrifying, desperate abandon.

Her hips became a whirlwind of motion, her ass cheeks slapping against Rex’s thighs with wet, thunderous echoes.

SLAP. SQUELCH. SLAP.

Each downward plunge was faster than the last, her body seeking to drown out the horror of her situation through the sheer velocity of her arousal.

But it was the kiss that truly shattered the reality of the scene. Iris wasn’t just accepting Rex’s mouth; she was attacking it.

Her mouth was fused to his in a display of grotesque passion that defied all logic. The sounds were wet, obscene, and relentless.

SMACK. SLURP. SCHLUP.

The noise of their saliva mingling and their tongues dancing in a frenzied battle filled the space between their bodies.

Veylor’s mind was fracturing. His thoughts screamed in a feedback loop of pure torment.

’NO! NO! IRIS IS... IRIS IS KISSING HIM!’

’SHE’S KISSING HIM WITH PASSION!’ The realization felt like molten lead being poured into his spiritual veins.

He saw her tongue flicking against Rex’s, not in fear, but in a deep, probing exploration that looked like the language of lovers.

"Mmmmnnnnngh... mmmph... slrrp... mmm!" Iris’s muffled sounds through the kiss were thick with saliva.

She was using her tongue more and more aggressively now, swirling it around Rex’s mouth as if she could taste his dominance and swallow it whole.

Rex roared with sadistic delight at her escalation. "Yes! Take it all, bitch!"

"Take my tongue like you take my cock!" His hands descended from her neck to her ass, his fingers digging painfully deep into her flesh, gripping her cheeks to anchor her as he bucked upward.

He claimed her tongue with renewed violence, biting down lightly on it before sucking her mouth so hard it felt as though he might drain the very breath from her lungs.

SCHLUCK. SMACK.

The wetness dripping from the corners of their mouths glistened in the ritual light as they became a single, panting mass of flesh and lust.

Veylor began to weep not just tears of sorrow but tears of profound, existential horror. His ghostly form wavered and flickered as he wailed into the void.

"It looks like... it looks like the kiss of two lovers!" he shrieked in his mind, his consciousness breaking apart. "They are joining their bodies with such lust, such twisted love... it’s wrong!"

"It’s so fucking wrong!" He saw the way her hips rolled in perfect synchronization with his thrusts, the way her body arched to meet every punishing lunge.

To any observer, it would look like two souls entwined in ecstasy, but Veylor knew the truth: it was a performance of martyrdom so perfect it had become indistinguishable from true desire.

Rex’s thrusts became inhumanly fast.

THUD SQUELCH THUD SQUELCH.

The sound of Iris’s pussy being overwhelmed by his cock was a constant, wet percussion.

"Look at you!" Rex growled against her lips, his voice vibrating directly into her mouth. "Kissing me like you’ve been starving for it!"

"Tell me you want this! Tell me you want to be my whore forever!"

Iris couldn’t answer with words, so she answered with her tongue. She wrapped it around his in a possessive, desperate caress, her hips grinding in maddening circles that forced Rex to thrust even deeper.

The friction was creating a wet, frothy lather between them.

SQUISH, SLURP, SLAP.

"MMMMNNNNAAAHHH MMMPH!!" Iris let out a sound that was half scream, half moan, trapped behind the barrier of Rex’s lips as her orgasm began to build.

Her entire body was taut as a bowstring, her muscles spasming around his cock while her mouth continued its obscene, passionate assault. She was lost in the sensation, the taste of him, the feel of him stretching her apart, and the terrifying knowledge that this performance was the only thing keeping Veylor alive.

She kissed Rex as if she were trying to devour his soul, while Veylor watched his world burn in the heat of their twisted embrace.

The psychological torment reached its breaking point as Rex decided to escalate the spectacle. With a grunt of effort and a sadistic glint in his eyes, he reached down to Iris’s hips, physically maneuvering her body.

He didn’t stop the penetration; if anything, the shift made the friction more intense as he forced her to rotate. He maneuvered her until she was facing forward, her back to him, but her torso twisted unnaturally to maintain the connection.

Now, Iris was positioned in a way that forced her to stare directly into the empty air where Veylor’s tormented spirit hovered. She was forced to meet his ghostly gaze while her body continued its obscene, grinding dance.

Even in this twisted position, Iris refused to break the connection; she reached back blindly, her fingers finding Rex’s jaw to pull his mouth back down to hers.