"A gathering? Don't tell me another member of the Royal Court's Elf Royal Family has invited you to a salon? Just so we're clear, I'm not participating in one of your orgies."
Luyetan declared, touching the rim of her cup with a fingertip.
It wasn't that she was being possessive; she simply didn't want others to see her in such a disgraceful state.
Before this Monster, Westheid, she could never maintain a dignified bearing. Her eyes would roll back, her tongue would loll out—the whole embarrassing process would unfold.
Luyetan had come to fully realize this in her dreams over the past while, so much so that she barely had the courage to meet the man's gaze.
Well... she herself didn't actually mind the feeling of being thoroughly marked and conquered. In fact, it brought her an immense sense of security and satisfaction. But the thought of anyone else seeing her like that was unbearable for Luyetan.
