The wives, arranged around the pond in their various states of satisfied warmth, said nothing. Even Mira was quiet. Helena had her hands clasped at her chest. Bella's tail had gone completely still.
Viktor's incubus mark — the spade-tipped signature of his bloodline — pulsed across his lower abdomen and then transferred, glowing, appearing above Olivia's clitoris in the water. Soft purple-white light, shifting.
His cum released.
The volume of it. Dense and warm and impossible. Olivia made a sound that was not words and then words:
"'I can feel it— inside— it's— Haaahn~— I'm—'"
Her body absorbed every drop. The pond stayed clear.
The mark stayed.
Viktor straightened.
He rolled his neck.
The garden was very quiet.
Then, from the stone steps:
A sound.
Fabric on stone.
Viktor turned.
Vivian stood at the water's edge.
