She tried to straighten her spine, pushing back the fluttering warmth in her belly. "I… I am the Elder. I serve the village. I am not… I will not—"
"Ah, so the Elder speaks," Julian interrupted, "but Erica is trembling. Two women in one body… and which one will I unravel first?"
Erica's chest tightened. The Elder wanted to turn away, to gather the shards of dignity—but Erica arched slightly, betraying the pull she couldn't deny.
"Stop… you shouldn't—" she gasped, though the words were more Erica than Elder. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steel herself, and when she opened them, Julian's smirk dared her again.
"See?" he murmured, his eyes tracing the line of her spine, as if his gaze alone could caress her skin. "The Elder wants to be untouched, unshaken… but Erica wants to burn. She's panting, trembling, and I haven't even touched her yet."
