24. The Dawn

2532 Words

“Touch me,” Astraea whispered. She never had to ask Fenrir twice, and his hands immediately slid down her silky skin, one grasping her a.ss and the other kneading her breast, eliciting a moan from her. Fenrir’s tongue swirled against her soft flesh, torturously slow and taunting. She had to reach for his hair, lacing her fingers in it to give him a tug, demanding for him to stop the games. The delightful pressure was already building inside her with every stroke he made, her thighs resting on his shoulders. “Mine!” he growled, devouring her, and that word alone tipped her over the edge. “Please!” Astraea hissed her plea, which unleashed the beast in him, and he lapped and sucked at her sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fenrir!” she screamed his name, arching her back… Astrea jolted upright

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