Ken's chest heaved beneath her, each breath deep and ragged like he'd just run for miles. His golden eyes locked onto hers—wide, pupils blown dark with shock and raw hunger, something desperate flickering in their depths. Elara's face stayed perfectly blank, that same mask she always wore, but the poison coursing wild through her veins had stripped away every last careful layer. What remained was pure, primal instinct wearing her skin.
Her fingers twisted his nipple harder, nails digging crescents into the sensitive flesh, pulling the swollen bud until his skin stretched taut and pale around it.
"Aagh—'nngh'!" Ken's back arched violently off the silk sheets, spine bowing beautiful and broken. His hips bucked up wild and uncontrolled, thick cock slapping his abs with a wet smack that left pre-cum glistening across his stomach. The sound that tore from his throat was raw—half pain, half pleasure, all desperation. "'Hnngh'... gods..."
