Her breath had gone shallow. Her nipples were stiff beneath the heavy embroidery of her dress — two hard points pressing against the silver-threaded bodice, visible to no one but herself. She had leaned closer to the basin, her face reflecting in the mercury water alongside the image of the waterfall, her eyes wide and hungry.
She had seen him grow.
That was the moment she had truly lost herself. When the nine inches became twelve. When the cock thickened to the circumference of her wrist. When the demon adjusted himself for the old dragon slayer and the size of him became something that should not exist in flesh. Libia had bit her lip. She had ground her palm against her pussy harder. She had felt her own wetness soaking through the silk, and she had not cared.
She was a princess.
