The mirror was a canvas of raw, unfiltered truth, and Orianna was both the artist and the subject of this masterpiece of submission. Her prismatic eyes, wide and dazed, stared at their reflection, taking in the sight of the powerful Demon King holding her limp, sated form.
His golden eyes burned with a possessive light, a stark contrast to her own glazed, blissful expression.
She saw the flushed, sweaty skin, the wild, tangled rainbow hair, the faint, lingering marks of his passion on her neck and shoulders.
She saw the truth of his words, the reality of her conquest, and a fresh, burning wave of desire washed over her, hotter and more intense than before.
Jax could feel the shift in her, the subtle tensing of her muscles, the soft, involuntary gasp that escaped her lips.
He knew what she was feeling, what she was seeing. He knew that the sight of her own submission was the most potent aphrodisiac he could ever give her.
