“They would have all liked you very much, you know,” Eridanys went on, as if he knew. “The way you sound. The way you taste. Whimpering and writhing under the hands and mouths of a dozen other merrow, I wonder how long you would have been able to stand it before begging for mercy…” “And you would’ve let them?” Alba snapped back, blood turning his cheeks red as he pulled on Eridanys’ hair. “You would’ve been fine with that? I don’t believe it.” “Hmm,” he considered, chuckling with every tug of his hair. “I would have. But only once.” “What?” “To give them a taste. So they always thought about
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