The woman on his 'face' pressed down with suddenly increased urgency, her thighs squeezing his cheeks, her cunt grinding harder against his mouth—
Sylvea's emerald eyes moved upward. To the woman straddling Tianlong's face. A small, composed smile.
"'She's close,'" Sylvea said, conversationally, her hips not stopping their roll. "'Please attend to her, husband.'"
Tianlong's jaw tightened.
He turned his head. Found the geometry. His tongue moved—deliberate, direct—and the woman above made a sound that cracked across the hall like a struck bell.
'"AAAHNN~!!♡♡"'
He gripped her thighs from below, held them, and worked. His tongue curled, finding the swollen bead above her entrance, circling it with the focused precision of a man who had learned this with intention—
'"NGHH~!!♡ HAANH~!!♡♡ HUSBAND—"'
And that was Kaira's voice. The slight rasp of it, the copper warmth of her skin between his palms, the gold ring at her clit catching his tongue with a metallic coolness—
