She heard Katisana's moans, deeper and more resonant than her own, and saw the woman's claws scrape down Jorghan's back, drawing faint lines of blood.
'Slap. Slap. Slap.'
The sound was relentless.
"See?" Jorghan grunted, his hips never slowing, his eyes drilling into Sarhita's soul.
"This is who I am. This is what I want. Can you take it? Or will you run back to your desert?"
Tears of rage and a strange, unbearable arousal welled in Sarhita's eyes.
She wanted to look away, but she couldn't.
The sight of him taking another woman, of his raw dominance on full display, was horrifying and electrifying.
Katisana, lost in her own ecstasy, opened her eyes and saw Sarhita watching.
Instead of shame or anger, a spark of dark complicity flashed in her gaze. Her breathing was ragged.
"Jorghan..." she moaned, her voice strained.
"Do not... let her just watch... She burns for it... Fuck her, too... Fuck us both..."
The words hung in the air, a forbidden, impossible invitation.
