Why would Oathran Alicei stop? He was the Divine Dragon Lord. Why couldn't he, of all people, fuck his wife with his brothers at the town square—
His cock dug deeper.
William's veined, draconian length dragged against Eastiel's textured Peter as he pushed forward, the ridges of the dragon catching on the spikes of the lion, creating a friction that made both men silently gasp.
The squishy surface of William's hard cock head pressed harder along and against that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside Cecilia, the weeping slit pulsing, leaking, coating her inner walls with fresh, warm slickness.
And he pushed Eastiel along with him, each forward roll of Oathran's hips shoving Peter deeper inside her as well, the two shafts moving together like a single instrument of pleasure.
His thrust grew stronger.
Faster.
