16

While wiping the warlord of his own potent cum, River realizes two things; one of them being he holds a beautiful, distinct mole just below his navel, like a dappling horse.

The second is, beneath his intent, lambent gaze the room suddenly swells around her like a bruise. It is just the two of them yet she feels the four wood walls press towards her, like lungs that had breathed in.

As the cloth rubs at his torso, feeling ridges of muscles bump beneath, River focuses on each narrowed breath. The room smells musky and sour at once, as though a thousand suffering people lay sweating in it, and then ground roses into the floor with dirty feet.

She lowers her head further, chin almost brushing her chest, urging the singed strands of hair to curtain her face as fingers of flame slowly wrap around her neck then ears, pinching them red. River blinks hard as the cloth scrapes lower and lower still, sucking her tongue hard as his cock comes to view, limply resting on the