Analisa froze when the heavy length brushed against her lips. Heat radiated from it, the musky scent crawling into her nose and sinking lower—down to the folds between her thighs where an infuriating tingle pulsed. She wanted to turn her head away, to spit on him, but the ache between her legs made her jaw clench. It was the kind of itch her own hands could never scratch.
Her throat tightened, saliva pooling as the thick shape hovered over her mouth. Even her own tongue betrayed her, darting out to wet her lips as if preparing for it. Still, she sneered, voice sharp despite the heat in her tone."Take this ugly, limp thing away—or I'll slice it inch by inch. From the size of it… at least twelve cuts. Think you can endure that?"
