"Hahh—! Master—! Ah—! Hngh—!" she moaned. The sounds came with each thrust. Each slap of flesh on flesh. Each impact of his hips against her ass.
"Indeed," Raven said. His voice was breathless now. Slightly. The first crack in the calm. "What a bastard."
Old Tomas heard the kissing.
The wet, sloppy sound of mouths meeting. Of tongues tangling. Of lips sealing and breath mingling. He heard his granddaughter's muffled moans—broken, swallowed, pushed back down her throat by a tongue that was deeper than her own.
PAH PAH PAH—
"Mmph—! Hngh—! Hahh—!" Sera's moans were muffled. Broken. Half-swallowed by the kiss. Her body was moving on the table—the creaking was rhythmic now, the table protesting the thrusting, the sheets bunching, the oil warmers rattling on the shelf.
The sounds continued.
For an hour.
