I looked down at Hina, each word heavy and full of hesitation. "But Aunt Hina…what about Elder Ryan?"
I should have pulled her away now. Those dark eyes would never quite fade from my own. Her breath had hitched, as if she hung on my answer-this ha feeling rumbling up my groin, my ears pounding with it. "Aunt Hina, He would be angry if he—"
"He won't be angry." Her voice cut into mine, desperate now. "Why would he be?" Her fingers dragged up my chest, each touch like hellfire searing into my groin.
"He'll have a child to call his own." Her grip tightened, unnerving my cock, her thumb swiping up and down the slick head. "He'll be proud of it. The tribe will see him as strong. Capable." Her voice cracked, and the bruising of her nails on my flesh deepened. "He wants an heir, Dexter. Somebody to hold the torch for him."
Her warm breath came out unevenly as her body pressed against mine. "And I want to give him that," she whispered with her voice breaking.
