Roxana didn't know what to do. She just stood there, her face was a sticky mess, watching the aftermath. Her body was buzzing with leftover frustration and a weird, hollow feeling.
She looked at Jax, who was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his chest. Even exhausted, he looked like a predator taking a break between kills.
But the thing that really pissed her off? He'd fucked four women raw in front of her and hadn't even glanced her way. Not once even after cuming right in her face.
'Again. He didn't give me a fuck. Not even a pity one. I'm just… furniture. A fucking sex sofa or a potion-holder.'
She stood there, cum drying on her cheeks and chin, feeling pathetic.
Before her simmering anger could boil over, a cool, sharp voice cut through the throne room's heavy air.
"You are not going anywhere."
Jax and Roxana turned.
It was Sylvie.
