Neo drove his hips forward in a relentless rhythm, the wet heat of Tara’s pussy gripping him so tightly that each thrust left only a blurred afterimage of his cock sliding in and out. Her leopard-patterned skin shone with sweat and oil. Broad shoulders flexed as he held her thighs open. Muscled arms and legs coiled with power. He watched her face twist in pure pleasure every time he bottomed out.
From Tara’s side the world narrowed to the thick length stretching her open, the hard planes of Neo’s chest and shoulders above her, the way his abs flexed with every deep stroke. She felt the heat rolling off his body, the controlled strength in the way he pinned her. Her own curves—full breasts bouncing, narrow waist, heavy hips—moved under him in time with his pace. The slap of skin on skin filled the room.
He came hard, flooding her. The pink mist that had driven her wild began to fade.
Neo lifted her without pause, dropping her onto all fours. He moved behind her, slapped the heavy curve of her leopard-marked ass once, hard enough to make the flesh ripple, then pushed the head of his cock against her tight rear hole. He sank in slowly at first, watching her anus stretch and seal around him like living meat. Once seated he started thrusting again, fast and deep. Her ass cheeks shook with every impact, the black spots on her skin blurring into afterimages. The oiled clap of flesh on flesh echoed off the walls.
Tara looked back over her shoulder. Sweat ran down the ridges of Neo’s muscles. His broad back and powerful thighs worked with single-minded focus. She saw the hunger in his eyes fixed on her ass and grinned. He liked this. She filed the knowledge away for later, already thinking of new ways to use it. She pushed her hips back, relaxing and arching so she could take him deeper.
Neo’s hands gripped her waist. He slammed into her until the pressure built past the breaking point and he came again, filling her ass. The last of the pink mist vanished. He pulled out and watched both of her holes leak thick white cum down her thighs.
He gave her one more loud slap on the ass, then exhaled as the quest-complete notification flashed across his vision. Rewards waited in his inventory. The door to the room swung open. Relief loosened his shoulders.
Neo took a clean strip of fabric from storage, knelt, and carefully wiped both of her openings. From the inventory he pulled a fresh set of clothes—the same style Zita wore. Tight leather pants left loosely laced at the top and a snug leather shirt that hugged every curve. He dressed her, stepped back, and grinned. She looked sharp in them. Then he gently shook her shoulder.
Tara’s eyes opened. She pressed a hand to her forehead.
"What... happened?"
"You lost control and jumped me," Neo said flatly. "I fucked you like a good kitty until the mist cleared."
Color flooded her cheeks as the memories returned. She pushed herself up, still flushed but steady.
"Lead the way to Pyra."
He nodded. They left the room together, Neo in front. The corridor narrowed into a single-path stretch of stone. A massive figure appeared at the far end—a skeleton knight nearly three meters tall. Its armor was pure black, studded with horns and thorns that drank the light. Cold blue fire burned in the empty eye sockets. A frost-coated sword hung in one gauntleted hand.
Neo pulled Tara into a shadowed alcove and waited until the knight fully entered the open stretch. He inspected it. Star level one. No easy win. He needed the right mix of skills.
Torch Man mode flared around him. Heat and speed surged. He opened a transport portal aimed at the knight’s chest. The blade flashed and carved the portal cleanly in half before it could form. Neo switched to Steal. The skill simply failed to take hold.
The knight charged, sword rising in a high arc. Neo barely had time to throw himself sideways. He thrust out a palm and unleashed a concentrated beam of pyro energy. The beam struck the black armor and did nothing. Instant weakness flooded Neo’s limbs.
He checked his status. Dead Frost Curse. Every attribute-based attack, including Torch Man mode, was heavily suppressed.
"Shit."
He dropped the mode and shifted into Dark Monarch. Power of a different kind settled over him. He sprinted straight at the knight. The great sword came down. Neo caught the knight’s wrist with both hands, locking the swing. He triggered Heavy Like the World. The knight’s mass multiplied a thousandfold in an instant. Neo transferred that crushing weight into his own fist and drove it forward.
The blue eyes widened. The armored body exploded into black shards that clattered across the floor.
Tara’s eyes went wide. She ran to him and crushed her mouth against his, tongue sliding deep. Neo slapped her ass hard enough to sting.
"Not now. Basement."
They moved on and soon reached the next threat: a long hallway carpeted with tiny rocks the size of rice grains. Each one carried a sensing spell. The slightest movement would set off a chain of explosions, and the moment the rocks detonated, twin iron plates studded with a hundred sharp horns would slam shut on the spot, turning anyone caught there into perforated meat.
Tara activated her racial speed skill and became a blur. She crossed the hallway in a heartbeat and landed safely on the far side. Neo stared at the trap. Torch Man speed relied on rocket-force from his feet; using it here would scatter the rocks and trigger everything.
He sighed, then remembered the frantic sex in the earlier room. The system window opened under his fingers. He scrolled and found the new skill sitting in his list—Speed, copied cleanly. He grinned, activated it, and shot across the hallway in the same perfect blur.
Tara’s eyes widened again.
"Since when do you have the same racial skill as me?"
There was no anger in her voice, only surprised pleasure at the shared ability. Neo explained the copy blessing in a few short sentences. Her mouth fell open.
"One day we should visit a brothel in the devil kingdom," she said, already thinking ahead. "I can pick out demon girls with rare skills. They’d be useful for you."
Neo nodded. They continued deeper.
At the bottom of the final stair the corridor opened onto a wide chamber. In front of the heavy prison door stood a guardian larger even than the knight they had just destroyed. He held two swords and wore no armor at all—only a simple shirt and long pants. The pressure rolling off him was immense.
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