Elira tried to resist, her muscular frame tensing as her armored glove cracked off her hand, the rest disintegrating in shards of black metal and sparks.
She stood panting, exposed in barely-there straps over her scarred torso, her firm breasts heaving, nipples erect, her tattooed abs glistening with sweat, her pussy aching with a confusing surge of arousal.
Lyra… moaned, her body arching as her red silk wrapped tighter, more erotic than before, the translucent webbing clinging to her small breasts, nipples poking through visibly, a leash clip hanging from her collarbone, purring with faint magic, her slick pussy throbbing beneath the fabric.
Veyna laughed, her freckled body trembling as her robe exploded in fire, leaving ash curling off her skin.
She wore only two thick ropes—one across her chest, teasing her small breasts and hard nipples, the other at her hips, framing her dripping pussy, her cursed fire making her glow, wetness trickling down her inner thighs.
