Lyra pulled away from the kiss, her amber eyes burning with feral hunger. She swung a leg over Satou's hips, positioning herself above his cock—still slick with Jessica's cum and his own. The sight of it glistening in the firelight made her mouth water. She wanted to taste it, but she wanted to feel it more.
Jessica shifted to the side, propping herself on one elbow, her green skin flushed and damp. Her hand slid down her own stomach, fingers parting her slick folds. "Slow," she murmured, her voice husky. "Make it last, Lyra. I want to watch you take every inch."
Lyra's breath hitched as she guided the head of his cock to her entrance. She teased herself with it—rubbing the smooth, thick crown through her wetness, circling her clit, making herself shudder. Satou's hands gripped her hips, his claws dimpling her skin, but he didn't rush her. He wanted this as much as she did.
"Please," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Stop torturing me."
