DRAVEN
She moaned and I twisted the voice of her voice in my head. It was not Circe, no it was Althea's cunt I had my fingers in.
I forced my mind to conjure up all that I wanted, her scent, her voice, the tenderness of her skin, the slight hesitance when the pleasure wanted to drown her. It was difficult because the bitch I married was like her.
Circe was greedy, she never yearned for me, her moans were guttural but soft, her body did not jolt as if stung. She was too…her.
How could they be sisters yet be so different?
I pushed the thought away, at least grateful that the candles had been blown out—like they always were so I would not need to look at her face to realize just what had slipped through my fingers.
I flipped Circe over roughly, her body yielding without protest as she got on all fours, ass up and presented like an offering.
