Maria's wings drooped. Her tail lay limp across the sheets. Her eyes, once glowing with that iridescent pink fire, had dulled to a soft, exhausted shimmer.
She couldn't even move anymore—not her arms, not her legs, not even her fingers.
She just lay there on the ruined bed like a discarded doll, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.
Her pussy also ached. Not in a bad way—more like a pleasant, worn-out soreness, the kind that came from being used thoroughly and lovingly.
Her asshole was stretched, still twitching faintly around nothing.
Her jaw hurt from all the times she'd taken him in her mouth.
She felt like she'd run a marathon, then climbed a mountain, then fought a war.
And Cassius? Cassius looked like he'd just finished a light jog.
He was still hard. Still eager. Still watching her with those intense, hungry eyes that made her shiver even now.
But more then that—he was concerned for her.
"Maria." He said softly, brushing sweat-damp hair from her forehead.
