The air thickened with musk and desperation, Felicity's plea hanging like a promise of sweat-slicked sin. Six pairs of predatory eyes locked onto her swollen form in the dimness, pupils dilated with feral hunger.
Voss's calloused hand slid beneath the flimsy hem of her dress, rasping against the damp silk of her inner thigh. "Everywhere aches, does it?" His voice was gravel and smoke. "We know exactly how to fix that, our Queen."
