Allen exhaled slowly, the warm air thick with sweat, spit, and the heady stench of degradation.
Veyna's head bobbed faster now, her lips swollen, mascara streaking her cheeks as she moaned around his shaft. But just as her rhythm started to build—just as the slurping grew wet and wild with urgency—Allen's hand stopped her.
"Enough."
She froze immediately, like a trained animal. Lips kissed the tip of his cock one last time before she pulled back, panting, eyes foggy with obedience and cumlust.
And then, from below…
"Please, Master… let me taste you… I need it…"
Nyra had her mouth open wide, tongue lolling out like a bitch in heat. Her ass trembled, carrots jiggling with every shaky breath, her face the very portrait of ruined nobility. Her golden eyes shimmered with tears—but not from shame.
From need.
Her voice cracked, thick with filth and desperation.
