The Ash King flings me backward onto the floor again. His body hovers over me while his fingers slither, quick and merciless and tantalizing, along my folds. His scarlet eyes blaze into mine. “Submit,” he orders. “Your body has already told the truth. Admit that you want me.” I buck against his hand and lift myself on my elbows, pressing my breasts to his chest, my mouth grazing his lips. “Make me.” “Gods-fuck.” His face wrenches with an expression of near agony before relaxing again. “I almost came just then, you rebellious village brat.”
