“Give me those fingers,” he commanded. I knew perfectly well what he meant by that; I wasn’t even remotely self-conscious as I reached out to his mouth and painted myself all over his lips. He groaned, eyes flashing with need, when I pushed my index and middle finger into his mouth. “Suck,” I told him. His eyes rolled back into his head, and Kingfisher of the Ajun Gate, slayer of the last dragon and Lord of Cahlish, obeyed me.
No im feral
