And for the first time since she turned into this lust-crazed succubus, Lyra reacted.
She squirmed.
She moaned.
Not just some weak little sigh or girly moan. Nah. This was a full-blown, primal fuck-noise tearing out of her throat.
Her whole damn body went stiff then limp then stiff again, like a puppet getting yanked around by strings made of orgasm.
Earlier, she was cocky, smug even.
Took the nipple-twisting like it was foreplay. Took the finger-stuffing like a daily vitamin.
Deepthroated his cock like she was in a slurping contest and gunning for gold.
But now. Oh boy. Now her brain was being scrambled like eggs in a sex fryer.
Every. Single. Inch of her—was being tongue-fucked, vacuumed, teased, and jerked at the same fucking time.
Nipples, clit, thighs, belly, ears.
All getting played like instruments in a damn orchestra of filth.
And suddenly—boom—she snapped.
"There..."
