ANWEN'S POVI took a deep breath and crawled toward Rhydan. The furs scraped my sensitized knees, my punished backside stinging with every movement, but I barely registered the discomfort. I knelt before him, looking up through my lashes, my throat tight with uncertainty.I swallowed hard, then reached for the laces of his trousers—already loosened, I realized, already waiting for me. My fingers fumbled only slightly as I worked them free, pulling the fabric down, down...He sprang free, heavy and veined, bobbing slightly with his pulse.I wrapped my hand around the base, marveling at the heat, the silken steel of him. A few clumsy strokes drew a sharp exhale from above. Emboldened, I leaned forward and took him into my mouth.He tasted of salt and musk and something uniquely Rhydan—smoke and embers. His grunt was guttural, involuntary, and behind me, Brammon groaned his approval. I took him deeper, relaxing my throat, moving faster, my head bobbing as I sought to draw out more of th
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