The guild mistress's body registered this.
The thick, stretching fullness of the cock making her cry from the inside out, the sheer force of it breaking through the numbness. 'It hurts... please...' Her inner voice was a ragged sob, an agonizing plea directed into the void while her physical form remained bound by the spell.
The sound was not loud — could not be loud, the paralysis limiting the volume to something between breath and voice — but it was genuine, the honest sound of a body receiving something at depth and responding to it with the only communication channel still partially open.
Her hips shifted.
Dara held them.
Viktor held her hips from above.
Helviana held her shoulders from the side.
