"Relax," Sol commanded, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her chest. A command that bypassed her logic and struck directly at her nervous system. "Open for me. The blockage is deep. I cannot reach it if you fight the friction."
Lyra's breath hitched. Under the influence of his power, her will dissolved like mist. Her legs went slack, parting obediently on the furs.
"That's it," he whispered seductively.
He pressed his hand firmly against the crotch of her trousers. She was wet… soaking wet. The primitive instinct of her body was betraying her, reacting to his dominance and the raw essence he exuded, even if her mind didn't have a word for lust.
The dampness had already seeped through the thick fabric, turning the rough material into a hot, clinging second skin.
"Aunt..." Sol murmured, rubbing his thumb over the wet seam that ran directly over her clitoris. "You are leaking. The stress... it has turned into poison inside you."
