Chapter 37: Viviane Turn

Seamus lay sprawled on the soft bed, breath ragged, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of cooling lust and the occasional, gentle moan from Isolde, still riding the high of her last climax.

Her pussy was stuffed with his cum, the thick mess spilling onto the sheets. Her mind felt hazy, her body heavy, but her lust ... still burning.

“How was it? Good?” he asked with a smug curl of his lips.

Isolde’s reply came soft, almost teasing. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” he snorted. “You were moaning like an animal and begging me to keep fucking you. I’ll just assume you’ve realized I’m as good as I said I was.”

She chuckled low in her throat. “Ahh ... you mean that sloppy, wild rutting? Like an animal in heat?”

Her grin widened. “But you’re not wrong. I do enjoy being manhandled ... But Seamus, did you really think it was over?”

Her fingers slid between her legs, dipping into the mess he left inside her, scooping up the thick seed and letting it drip down her hand. “Mmm ... what a shame your cum has to go to waste like this.”

She licked her fingers clean with slow strokes of her tongue, chasing the taste down her wrist and arm, her fangs glinting, turning the act into something sinfully erotic. The sight alone had his cock twitching back to life.

“You need help with that?” he smirked, leaning back into a lazy, half-sitting position, his weight supported by his arms.

“You don’t have to, Seamus,” she purred. “You’ll taste it soon enough.”

She kept playing with herself, moaning softly, her legs spread wide—an open invitation to be ruined all over again.

But Seamus was in no hurry. He enjoyed watching her work herself over, every movement designed to taunt him.

“Now ... clean,” she finally murmured, smirking as she crawled up his body.

She pushed him back against the mattress, her dripping cunt hovering over his face. “I’d love to keep you for my entertainment ... but I think Viviane deserves some attention too, don’t you think?”