Invincible Blood Sorceror

Chapter 107: Hunt the sand beasts

Katisana dropped eagerly, her eight-foot frame folding to kneel before him. Her golden eyes stared up as she opened her mouth wide—elf mouths were flexible, but even she struggled. She wrapped her lips around the head, tongue swirling over the slit, tasting herself on him.

Jorghan grabbed her silver hair, yanking her forward.

”Deeper. Choke on it.”

She gagged as he forced more in, her throat bulging visibly around his girth. Tears streamed down her red cheeks, but she moaned around him, vibrations sending shocks up his shaft. He face-fucked her mercilessly, hips pistoning, balls smacking her chin. Drool poured from her lips, coating his length in sloppy strings. Her massive tits bounced with each thrust, nipples hard as diamonds.

”Fuck your mouth,” he grunted, pulling her hair tighter.

”Take every inch, you slutty elf.”

She did her best, hollowing her cheeks, sucking like her life depended on it. Her hands cupped his balls, massaging them gently in contrast to his roughness.

Jorghan’s thrusts grew erratic, but he held back, wanting more.

He yanked out suddenly, strings of spit connecting them.

”Bed. Now. Spread for me.”

Katisana scrambled onto the massive bed, lying back with legs splayed wide. Her pussy was a sight—swollen lips glistening, clit peeking out like a pearl. Her asshole gaped slightly from the pounding, a testament to his size.

Jorghan climbed over her, his six-foot body dwarfed by hers but dominant in every way. He rubbed his cock along her slit, teasing.

”Beg for it,” he demanded.

”Please, Jorghan... fuck my pussy. Breed me with that stallion cock. Make me your lover forever.”

Jorghan smirked at her desperate plea, enjoying the power he held over her.

With a low growl, he thrust into her with force, claiming her completely as his own. The sound of their moans filled the room, echoing the intensity of their passion.

Her cunt was hotter and wetter, stretching around him like velvet fire.

She screamed, back arching, tits flopping wildly. He pinned her legs back, folding her in half despite her height, and pounded downward—deep, grinding thrusts that hit her cervix with each blow.

Her ass and thighs and her big mounds jiggled wildly with every stroke of his.

”Yes! Destroy me!” she wailed, nails raking his back.

The bed creaked under them, furs flying.

Katisan seemed to enjoy his hold over her; she liked being submissive to him, and the way he used his tool to make her shudder made her glee in pleasure.

Jorghan’s pace was brutal, sweat dripping from his skin onto her red curves. He leaned down, biting a nipple hard, sucking it into his mouth while hammering away. Her pussy clenched rhythmically, milking him.

But his ass kink called again.

He pulled out and flipped her onto all fours. ”Ass up, face down.”

She complied, presenting that glorious rear.

He plunged back into her pussy from behind, one hand spanking her cheeks redder than her skin. The jiggle drove him insane—each thrust sent waves through the flesh. He alternated holes now, pulling out of her cunt to ram her ass, then back, making her a sloppy mess of juices.

”Switching like that... you’re a beast!” she gasped.

Hours blurred. He fucked her mouth again on the bed, sitting on her chest while she tit-fucked him with those enormous boobs, his cock sliding between them into her waiting lips.

Then back to pounding—missionary, doggy, sideways.

He came first in her ass, flooding it with thick ropes of cum that leaked out in white rivers.

But he didn’t stop; the sorcerer’s stamina kept him hard.

”More,” he growled, flipping her to ride him.

Katisana straddled him, her weight pressing down as she sank onto his cock.

She rode hard, ass bouncing on his thighs, tits slapping his face. He grabbed them, twisting nipples, slapping her ass until it burned.

They rolled, positions shifting endlessly. He took her against the wall again, lifting one of her legs despite the height difference. Then on the floor, she was on top, grinding. Cum dripped from every hole—ass overflowing, pussy creaming around him, mouth swallowing load after load.

Finally, after what must have been the third or fourth orgasm for him—each massive, painting her insides—he collapsed beside her on the bed.

Katisana curled against him, her curvy body molding to his, her hand stroking his still-hard cock lazily.

”You’re mine now,” she whispered, kissing his neck.

”Lover. Forever.”

Jorghan smirked, slapping her ass one last time. ”Damn right. That ass... we’ll do this every night.”

The next day,

The group had again gone into the trenches, and this time, they ventured deeper into them.

The deeper trenches were where the sand beasts made their territories.

They emerged from burrows carved into the sandy ground, predators that had adapted perfectly to the specific conditions of the dunes.

The first one appeared thirty minutes after they resumed their journey—a creature roughly the size of a small cart, with armor-like plates covering its body and four jointed legs that moved with unsettling grace.

It was ugly in a way that transcended normal design. Its head was mostly mouth, with jaw structures that suggested it could unhinge to swallow things much larger than seemed possible. Its eyes were small and predatory, fixed on the group with an intensity that suggested they’d been registered as potential prey.

”Perfect,” Ski’ra said.

”Not too large, not too small. Good hunting grounds here. Everyone spread out and circle it.”

What followed was remarkably coordinated.

The Nuwe’rak warriors moved with practiced precision, their magic creating barriers that prevented the beast from retreating back into its burrow.

Swana and the Sik’ra moved to flank positions, weapons ready to exploit any opening.

Jorghan took central position, ready to move toward or away as the situation developed. He could have killed the beast single-handedly, but he didn’t to spoil the fun for his cousins.

They had been spending their time hunting, eating, drinking, and chatting away. And Jorghan felt like he was at home, peaceful. He felt like he could relax after a long while.

He had been having his time with Sarhita; Katisan and Scarlett seemed to be interested in him too, but she wasn’t like Sarhita or Katisan.

He didn’t want to make any moves on her, and if she was interested in him, she would come to him; he thought as much.

Jorghan focused on the sand beast.

The sand beast charged.

It moved faster than Jorghan would have expected something that large to move, covering the distance between itself and the group in what felt like seconds.

Ski’ra rolled to the side, letting the creature pass, and one of the Nuwe’rak warriors struck at its flank with a blade imbued with magical force.

The blade scraped against the creature’s armor plating but didn’t penetrate.

The sand beast twisted, its oversized jaw opening impossibly wide, and lunged at the warrior who’d struck it.

”Now!” Sarhita called out, and the coordinated attack began in earnest.

The Nuwe’rak warriors pressed their magical advantages, each strike calculated to weaken the creature’s armor or force it to turn defensive.

Swana attacked from flanking positions, looking for vulnerable spots—the joints where the armor plates didn’t overlap, the softer areas around the creature’s eyes, and the exposed belly if they could somehow get it to roll.

Jorghan moved in, assessing.

The sand beast was powerful and armored, but it was also slow in ways that mattered. Its turning radius was large. Its predictability was absolute—it followed patterns in its attack that were easy to read if you knew what to look for.

He saw the opening he needed—a moment between attacks where the creature’s full attention was fixed on one of the Nuwe’rak warriors.

Jorghan sprinted forward, not toward the beast’s heavily armored front, but toward its rear legs.

”Jorghan, what are you doing?” Swana called out.

Jorghan didn’t answer.

He was moving, sliding under the creature’s body, positioning himself directly beneath it.

The sand beast tried to turn, but its own armor worked against it—the heavy plating that protected it made rapid directional changes impossible.

Jorghan pulled a knife from his belt—a simple blade, nothing magical, just sharp steel—and drove it upward with a simple motion.

The blade found the gap between armor plates, the soft flesh beneath, and sank deep.

The sand beast screamed.

It was a sound that didn’t belong in any natural language, a shriek of pain and fury that echoed off the stone walls of the trench.

It spun, trying to dislodge whatever had wounded it, but Jorghan was already rolling away, sliding out from under its body just as it collapsed onto its side.

The creature thrashed once, twice, then went still. Its large, predatory eyes stared at nothing. Its armor-plated body twitched slightly as residual nervous impulses fired through its system.

For a long moment, nobody moved.

Everyone was staring at Jorghan, who was covered in the blue-grey blood of the sand beast, breathing heavily.

”Well,” Swana said finally, ”that was absolutely insane and incredibly impressive.”