Three days until the wedding.
Three days until my life turned from system glitch to royal husband of five MILFs.
And this morning?
This morning was worse than fighting divine Sentinels.
"Hold still," Talraine purred, straddling my lap in nothing but dominion chain lingerie.
Chains wove around her hips and thighs, black steel kissed with crimson glyphs that pulsed every time she breathed. Her nipples brushed my chest as she leaned closer, her dark lips curling.
"Do you prefer the thigh-slit lace…" she tugged the side strap, letting it slap against her skin with a metallic click, "…or the full dominion weave?" She rolled her hips once, slow, deliberate, making the chains bite softly into her curves.
My mouth opened. No words came out. My system flickered:
[Warning: Arousal Exposure – Critical Levels Imminent.]
Talraine giggled, a low, dangerous sound.
"Good answer," she whispered, even though I hadn't said anything.
