Her slick arousal clung to his fingertips eagerly. He tried wiping it away, but it only seeped out more quickly, coating his fingers in its sticky trail. His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, caressing the tender flesh as if he were playing the strings of a delicate harp.
“Ah, Vlad…! Please… wait…” Liliette moaned. She grasped his arm desperately as he explored her private regions. “No, w-we need to go. Tristan is waiting for me. If I delay any longer…”
Vlad clicked his tongue softly. “Let him wait. Hours, days—it doesn’t matter. I’m sure he’ll wait years if he has to, since you told him you’d meet him,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. Her hasty excuse seemed to have made him angry.
“But… Ah—!”
