As the night wore on, the world beyond Everhart Manor faded into a gentle hush. The stars drifted across the heavens in silence, and within the sanctuary of Adrian's chambers, time seemed to pause.
Soft breaths and the occasional sleepy mumble were the only sounds that filled the room. Adrian lay still, his arm cradling the little girl who had become the light of his world. Sophia, her body pressed protectively against Aria's back, finally surrendered to true rest. Her breathing evened out, her hand never straying far from the warmth nestled between them.
Hours passed like clouds drifting across the moon. Candle stubs guttered out, the hearth dulled to a faint red glow, and yet the peace remained undisturbed.
Miles away, in the bustling border town of Dawnhurst, midnight had settled over the ramshackle inn where the Blackthorn family's entourage was lodged. It was an old building, walls thin and floors creaking, but it was private enough for noble guests—at least in theory.
Lira Blackthorn, youngest daughter and heir-apparent, lay rigidly in her lumpy bed, arms crossed, jaw clenched. From the other side of the wall, the sounds had started innocently enough—soft laughter, the clink of wine glasses. Now, they had devolved into a symphony of debauchery.
Mmmn… ahh… slrp… thmp, thmp, thmp… ooh!
Lira's eyes rolled so hard she nearly saw her own brain. A pillow pressed over her head did nothing to muffle the chorus of breathy moans, high-pitched giggles, and the unmistakable thud-thud-thud of her elder sister's bedframe battering the wall.
"She is utterly shameless," Lira whispered to herself, voice sharp as a whetted blade, "Future matriarch of Blackthorn, and she's rutting like a—like a beast. With four random women she dragged from the tavern, no less. Disgusting."
Another round of ah—ah—ahh! and urgent slap-slap noises made her wince. Why, of all nights, did her sister have to indulge her infamous appetites now?
"I should have slept in the stables," Lira grumbled. She swung her legs out from under the covers and stalked to the window, throwing it open to the cool night air.
The stars above Dawnhurst glittered indifferently, silent witnesses to both virtue and vice. Lira leaned on the sill, breathing in the scent of distant pine, letting the chill clear her mind.
"Soon," she murmured, voice low, "soon I'll be free of this shithole of a family. Once I meet up with Baron Adrian Everhart—my savior, my ticket out—everything will change. No more of this madness. No more of her."
From the next room came a particularly enthusiastic smack and a chorus of shrieks, followed by raucous laughter.
Lira scowled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Hmph. Big sister and her disgusting antics. She should be ashamed."
But her mind was already drifting to the morrow—to the meeting that would decide her fate. She imagined Adrian's face—noble, resolute, the man who'd saved her from bandits and, she hoped, would soon save her from everything else.
"Just a little longer," she whispered, the night air cool on her skin. "Just a little longer, and I'll be free."
Behind her, the bedframe in the next room banged again: thump-thump-thump. Lira closed her eyes, dreaming not of family but of escape—of dignity, and a future that finally, finally belonged to her.
Inside the room, Mira Blackthorn , the eldest daughter of the Blackthorn family sitting on her bed, was with four other women , each one engaged in a different activity that brought her immense pleasure.
On the floor, one woman was kneeling, holding Mira's jade-like feet in her hands and ravishingly licking them.
This woman, whose name was Ruby, was a redhead with a fiery mane of hair and a collection of colorful tattoos on her arms.
She was a bit more voluptuous than Mira, with a curvy build and large breasts that jiggled as she moved.
On the bed, another woman was lying on her back, her body covered in whip marks, her face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Her name was Onyx, and she was a raven-haired beauty with a slender build and small breasts.
Her eyes were rolled back, and her tongue was hanging out of her mouth as she moaned incoherently.
But as Mira's hand played with her pussy, her expression transformed into one of pure ecstasy. Her eyes rolled back, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she moaned incoherently.
"Mistress... Mistress... more... I want more..." Onyx begged, her voice husky with desire.
Meanwhile, Luna was sitting on Mira's lap, circling Mira's neck with her hands and sucking on her breast. Mira's other hand was playing with Luna's pussy, eliciting moans from her time to time.
As Mira's fingers danced across Onyx's pussy, Onyx's moans grew louder and more insistent. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her body arching off the bed as she begged for more.
"Mistress... please... don't stop..." Onyx cried out, her voice trembling with desire.
"I'll never stop, my dear," Mira whispered, her voice husky with desire. "I'll keep you in a state of perpetual pleasure, always begging for more."
Onyx's eyes snapped open, and she gazed at Mira with a look of pure adoration. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll do anything for you... just don't stop..."
Meanwhile, the last woman was standing with her hands tied to the ceiling, her mouth gagged, and her eyes fixed on the scene before her.
Her name was Ayla, and she was a brunette with a fit and athletic build, small breasts, and a collection of scars on her arms.
Her pussy was overflowing with juice, and she was getting hornier by the minute, but she was unable to utter a sound. She could only clutch her thighs together, trying to soothe the heat between her legs.
Mira's eyes snapped open, and she gazed at Ayla, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She beckoned Ruby to come closer, and Ruby crawled up to her.
Mira reached out and stroked Ruby's hair, opening her legs apart and pushing Ruby's head towards her dripping core, her eyes never leaving Ayla. "You want to join us, don't you?" she asked, her voice husky with desire.
Ayla nodded, her eyes pleading with Mira to release her.