The manor’s brilliance had begun to feel like a beautiful, suffocating cage. Every lantern shimmered too brightly, every portrait leaned too far from its frame with knowing eyes, and every enchanted whisper seemed to carry Elara’s name on a breath of accusation. She moved through the corridors with careful grace, her steps measured, her smile painted on like fragile porcelain. Beneath the composure, however, the weight of what had happened the night before pressed harder with every movement.
Her p***y was still tender and slick. Every shift of her thighs reminded her of how Kaelen had f****d her raw—how he had bent her over his bed, driven his thick c**k deep inside her, and filled her with pulse after pulse of hot c*m while she moaned like a w***e. The memory made fresh arousal bloom bet
