Asher was salivating, drool spilling from the corners of his lips as he fixated his dark gaze on Veyra like a starving dog eyeing a roasted slab of meat.
His face twisted into something ugly, something feral. Veins bulged thick across his temples and neck, his expression straining as if he were fighting something deep inside… and losing.
Veyra felt his large cock throb against her soft thighs. One hand kept her pinned down, while the other began tracing along her curves—starting from her abdomen, slowly moving up to her breasts.
He cupped them roughly, switching from one to the other. And despite being sentient, Veyra's body still reacted exactly how the Author had designed it to—overly sensitive, dangerously responsive.
Her thick nipples protruded sharply from her saucer-sized areolas, hardening like pebbles under his touch.
She looked into Asher's eyes and immediately realized—he was too far gone. Completely consumed by lust, with no awareness left of what he was doing.
