Lucien’s breath coasted over her slit again.
The heat of it made her cunt twitch, made her legs pull at the chains, made the slick between her thighs grow wetter. The altar was cold. Her body was not. Her blood was boiling. Her mind was ash. Her soul already offered.
Lucien stayed there.
Mouth inches away.
Watching her like the beast he was. Like the monster she was born for. Like the prophecy never promised a crown but a c**k and a chain and a ruin that would never be undone.
Then he licked her.
From asshole to c**t.
One, long, devastating stripe of tongue that made her scream through clenched teeth. Her body arched. Her wrists pulled. Her breath shattered.
He groaned.
Like her taste alone was enough to send him into heat.
“Still f*****g sweet,” he murmured into her cunt, voice
