Had declared it sweet. Had said that consuming it bound her to the duke, elevated her status, made her something more than a commoner.
I looked at Lira. Her eyes were on the cum pooling in her palm, her pupils dilated, her lips parted.
'It looks like — the book said it was pearly white, thick, like warm honey — and it said it tasted — the heroine said it tasted—'
"Do you want to lick it?" I asked.
Lira's head snapped up. She looked at me. Looked at Sera. The awkwardness in the air was a living thing — thick, electric, the embarrassment of two sisters who were being asked to cross a line that could not be uncrossed.
'Lira — do not —' Sera's internal voice was sharp.
But Lira's tongue was already out. She brought her palm to her mouth. Her tongue — small, pink, trembling — touched the cum.
She licked.
