The Moonlit Masque had transformed the manor’s grand outdoor pavilion into a dream of silver moonlight and drifting black lace. Guests wore elegant half-masks and moved between columns wrapped in moonlight silk, the air filled with soft violin music and the scent of night-blooming roses. This was one of the final grand revels before the deepest solstice rites — a night for hidden desires to surface beneath the mask of propriety.
Elara moved through the crowd in a midnight-blue gown that clung to her body like a second skin, the deep neckline and thigh-high slits leaving little to the imagination. Beneath the silk, she was a sticky, throbbing mess. Kaelen’s repeated thick loads from the Silken Frost Revel had left her p***y constantly swollen, creamy, and leaking. Every step made the warm
