10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 128 - The Running Cinderella

Her glazed gaze fell lower, to her most intimate center. It was visibly swollen, plump, and deeply raw, the clear sight of her well-used folds making her heart pound like a trapped bird. Highly hesitant, she parted the slick, swollen petals with trembling fingers, hissing sharply at the intense, overwhelming sensitivity.

’So completely empty now.’ The heavy memory of his girth surged violently back—hot, wildly pulsing, stretching her so wide, tearing away her virginity in a fevered, bloody rush that still felt like a chaotic, erotic dream. Her fingers lightly grazed her swollen, ultra-sensitive rosebud, and she whispered,

"Am I still... me?" The heavy question hung in the steam, her body a total paradox of profound loss and wild awakening, incredibly sore yet constantly electric.

She brushed the aching bud again—now forever unclaimed by anyone but him—and a soft, dirty moan slipped completely free, her body instantly responding with a flood of slick heat that both deeply frightened and intensely thrilled her.

Turning slightly to the side, she caught a distinct, crescent-shaped bruise high on her smooth inner thigh in the mirror’s haze.

’He bit my thigh too?’ Her wet fingers pressed the mark, instantly sparking the vivid memory of his mouth—hot, absolutely relentless, his wet tongue teasing her most sensitive skin right before he pushed inside her.

’I totally didn’t stop him. I begged him.’ A heavy, shameful flush spread completely across her chest, her body absolutely alive with the undeniable echo of his dark hunger.

"Why do I desperately want... more?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice breaking entirely, caught helplessly between her deep guilt and a ravenous desire that set her bare skin ablaze.

She stood frozen, completely lost in the foggy reflection, her stunning body a literal, physical map of Cruxius’s rough touch—bruises, deep bites, fading scratches, each a raw, undeniable testament to that unforgettable night.

’He thoroughly marked me, and I let him. I desperately wanted him to.’ The thought was a completely silent, filthy confession, heavy with shame and dripping desire, her skin literally singing with the vivid memory of her total surrender, her intense awakening. Her body was clearly no longer just hers alone, but something permanently shared, violently claimed, and finally alive.

BZZZZZTTTT—! The phone’s sharp, blaring ring sliced violently through the heavy steam, instantly shattering the erotic spell. Her hands dropped immediately from her body, gripping the cold porcelain countertop. Her reflection stared back—heavily flushed, incredibly vulnerable, a gentle, professional woman teetering completely on the dangerous edge of something wild and totally uncharted.

Her heart pounding with sudden adrenaline, she snatched the vibrating phone, highly flustered, pressing it quickly to her ear.

"What!?" Seleyena’s dark eyes instantly widened as if she had just heard something catastrophic on the call. The lust entirely vanished, replaced by sheer, clinical terror. She sprinted frantically out of the steamy bathroom without even taking a bath, desperately grabbed her silk bathrobe, and sprinted right back into the bathroom while inquiring in a sharp, incredibly panicked voice,

"What did you just say!? What happened to Cruxius!"

-----

Hospital Corridor – Afternoon

Seleyena sprinted through the pristine hall, her heels clacking in a frantic, echoing rhythm. Her breath was ragged, her generous chest heaving heavily against the tight buttons of her silk blouse with pure panic. Her glasses slid down her nose, fogged with the sudden heat radiating from her flushed skin, but she didn’t care.

She bumped hard into a passing nurse, stumbled against the white wall, almost fell—but kept going, her skirt riding up her thighs with her desperate strides.

’Accident... they said it was a fatal accident—what if he’s in critical condition? What if he’s unconscious?’

Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She didn’t even know the medical details. She hadn’t bothered to ask. She just heard the terrifying word accident, heard Cruxius, and absolutely everything inside her shattered into chaos.

’He can’t die. Not like this. Not after... after that night—’

But her treacherous body wouldn’t let her forget.

She had fiercely protected her innocence, saving herself for the gentle man she would eventually fall in love with... but she had surrendered something so precious to a dominant, arrogant man, and now he was supposedly about to die.

Even as her heart raced in sheer terror, a deeper, utterly traitorous pulse throbbed hotly between her thighs—a wet, heavy echo of that night when her body had been entirely stripped of all professional dignity and turned into his personal plaything.

She clenched her long legs together mid-sprint, stumbling slightly.

’Not now—please, God, not now—’

But her hips twitched involuntarily.

That night... the vivid memory slammed into her exactly like a physical punch to the gut. The rough feel of his large hand fisting her hair, yanking her head back exposing her neck. His dark voice vibrating like a hungry growl right in her ear, "You can break now... or I’ll break you."

The agonizing, beautiful way he’d split her open on his thick cock—slow, agonizing inches of ruthless, burning stretch. She’d screamed. Kicked. Cried hot tears into the pillows. It didn’t stop him for a second.

His heavy hands had locked her wrists effortlessly above her head while her bare thighs had wrapped tightly around his narrow waist entirely involuntarily. Her legs had shaken violently as he slammed into her, hard, faster—exactly like he wanted to permanently mold her from the inside out.

And the filthy sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of her own virgin cunt taking his massive length again and again, echoing in the dark room.

’He completely ruined me...’

Her body trembled violently as she ran, her breath catching painfully, her knees nearly buckling under the weight of the memory.

She pressed her thighs tightly together again.

Liquid heat surged heavily through her core, dampening her lace panties.

Deep shame flushed her cheeks a bright, embarrassing crimson.

But she couldn’t stop her sensitized body from remembering exactly how incredibly good it felt after the initial pain finally blurred—how he broke her wide open until absolutely all she could do was beg, entirely mindless, for more of him.

’You absolute animal. He... he made me like this.’

She crashed to a clumsy, sliding halt outside Room 217.

Her hands were visibly trembling. Her swollen lips parted, panting heavily exactly like she’d just run for her life.

’Please be alive. Please be okay...’

She pushed open the heavy door—

And froze dead in her tracks.

Cruxius.

He wasn’t injured.

He wasn’t groaning in pain.

He was entirely shirtless on the raised hospital bed. His golden skin caught the soft, warm orange wash of the evening sun streaming through the blinds. His abs were sharply cut and incredibly smooth, the crisp white sheets pooled dangerously low around his waist, putting his V-line on full display as he sat with his muscular legs wide apart. He held a red apple exactly like it was a royal chalice, entirely casual, completely relaxed—like a king lounging on his throne.

And he smiled.

That exact same damn smile.

The dark, victorious one that had looked down on her as she cried into the tangled sheets with his thick cock still buried deep inside her. The one that silently said, you’re totally mine now.

"Hey," he said, his deep voice rich and effortlessly easy. "How are you?"

Seleyena’s frantic heart stopped beating.

She gripped the metal doorframe tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Her stomach dropped completely.

A massive wave of relief flooded her—but it was instantly drowned out by deep confusion and sheer disbelief.

’You’re okay... thank God... he is completely fine...’