Her thighs were quivering, spread wide from where he'd held her down; her sweaty skin was red with marks from his hands—handprints stamped on her like he'd claimed every inch. Her ass was the same deal, cheeks all red and sore where he'd smacked her hard. Her neck looked rough too, from his fingers where he'd gripped her just tight enough to make her head spin.
Isode's chest heaved, her breasts rising and falling with every desperate breath of air. She looked utterly ruined.
Arkanos leaned down, one hand bracing himself on the bed, the other tilting her chin up so her dazed violet eyes met his.
His voice came out rough, almost a growl, but teasing. "So, priestess," he panted, a smirk tugging at his lips, "tell me—how was it?"
Isode's chest heaved as her lips slowly curved into a radiant smile. "It was…" she whispered, her voice hoarse but warm, "amazing."
