“The motor on this is more powerful than you’re used to, so we’ll go slow,” he told her, taking up the control dials. “Hop on, witchling. See how you like it.” Ivy swallowed, trying to ignore the nervous tremors in her stomach. She wasn’t sure why she felt timid—she was already naked and sweaty, arousal smeared on her inner thighs from her previous orgasms. But this was new, and something about how Silas settled back into his seat with the remote with his eyes locked on her made her feel like a small woodland creature stunned and frozen in the beam of floodlight.
