His heavy saliva landed with a wet, obscene plop right into the sensitive cleft between her pale cheeks.
Lira jerked violently, as if he'd struck her bare skin. The sudden heat of it—his spit—ran a slow, agonizingly thick path down the dark line of her cleft, sticky and warm, clinging to delicate skin that was never meant to be exposed, let alone degraded. Her spine arched sharply, her bare thighs shaking uncontrollably where they were hooked over his broad shoulders.
"Don't you fucking—Cruxius!" she gasped, but her furious command cracked halfway through, betraying her rising panic.
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
His thick thumb moved down, slow and agonizingly steady—deliberately dragging the warm spit with it, spreading the humiliating slickness over her most private flesh.
Slickhhk…
