Her hands were shaking so badly that the cloth trembled visibly as she brought it closer.
"Go on," Julian encouraged, his voice almost gentle now.
The centaur bit her lower lip, then finally brought the cloth to touch him.
Her first touch was so light it was barely there, the fabric just grazing his skin. She flinched at the contact, as if expecting him to react violently. When he remained still and relaxed, she tried again, slightly firmer this time.
She began to clean him carefully. Her movements were jerky and nervous at first but gradually became more steady as she focused on her task. The cloth moved along his length, carefully wiping away the evidence of his intercourse with Emma.
Julian watched her work with a smirk, his eyes tracking every movement, every expression that crossed her face. Her breathing quickened despite her obvious discomfort, her nipples hardening beneath the thin cloth, and Julian was well aware of everything.
