[WARNING! MATURE Content Ahead!]
Lyander took his time.
His gaze roamed over her, inspecting every inch of her body. As expected, there wasn't a mark left on her skin. Not a hint of pink or redness remained. Her accelerated healing had already erased the signs of her spanking, and that was precisely why he hadn't held back.
She could take it. More than that—she needed it.
Her natural resilience, her nymph blood, allowed her body to recover nearly instantly. It made her capable of enduring what others could not. And she had. Beautifully.
He huffed softly, his breath warm against her inner thighs, taking in her scent—ripe with need, open, willing.
"Perfect," he whispered, and this time, it wasn't a praise. It was truth.
His tongue slipped out, tracing a heated path from her slick entrance all the way to her clit.
"Ah!" she cried, her back arching in reaction. Her hips lifted instinctively, offering herself to him more fully, wordlessly begging for more.
