He looked at Evriana.
She was dazed. Flushed. Her lips swollen from the kiss. Her nipple — still bare, still wet — stiff and aching. Her eyes were half-closed, the particular, drunk-on-arousal, I-want-more expression that he recognized.
She nodded.
The nod was small. Reluctant. The nod of a woman who wanted to say 'no, do not help him, do not stop, keep kissing me, keep touching me, keep —' but who was a princess and a commander and could not let a prisoner die.
Viktor chuckled.
He spread his thighs. Moving Evriana — sliding her from his center to his right thigh, her body settling on the muscle, her boob pressing against his chest. His cock — freed from the crack of her ass — sprang upward. The thick, dark, veined length of it standing between his legs, the head crimson, the shaft slick with pre-cum.
Evriana gasped.
