The chamber stank of sweat, sex, and surrender.
Elira lay twitching, used and discarded, her ruined hole oozing Kael's load onto the stone like spilled milk. Her eyes were glassy. Her mind was somewhere far, far away, too shattered to scream.
Kael hadn't moved. He slumped like a drunk beside her, cock soft, balls empty, eyes vacant.
But all of that… faded.
Because at the center of the chamber, Allen was still fucking Lady Rhelgar like she was a stolen prize—his cock slamming into her with reckless, punishing force.
SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP!
Each thrust cracked through the council hall like a war drum. Each wet impact sent her ink-smeared ass jiggling, the shame-words across her thighs smearing with sweat and juice. Her once-flawless noble skin was now a canvas of disgrace, trembling with every pump.
