Vienna and Noella stood just outside the half-open door to Hilga's small chamber, silent as statues in the dim pre-dawn light that leaked through the corridor window.
They had followed the faint sounds—soft gasps, wet slaps, broken moans—drawn by curiosity and something darker, something possessive. Now they watched.
Hilga lay on her back beneath Egon, silver hair fanned across the pillow like spilled mercury. Her legs were hooked high over his shoulders, knees pressed toward her chest, hips tilted so every deep thrust drove straight against her cervix. Her full breasts bounced with each impact, dark silver nipples stiff and flushed. Between her spread thighs, Egon's thick cock pistoned in and out of her swollen pussy—glistening, stretched wide, creamy white rings of their combined fluids coating his shaft on every withdrawal.
Hilga's lavender eyes were glassy, half-lidded, mouth open in a constant stream of breathy cries.
"Master—! Deeper—! Fill me—! Please—!"
