CHAPTER 6
ISLA
A coil—warm, solid—slid between my legs, pressing into the soaked fabric until I moaned without meaning to.
“I—stop—”
Your body says different.
Another tendril curled around my waist, pulling me back so my ass arched against it. My palms pressed to the cool porcelain.
“You can’t—this is my job—”
You’re thinking about it
I bit my lip, hard, but the images slammed into me anyway—thick length stretching me open, the relentless bounce, the glowing eyes. My knees trembled.
“Stop putting that in my head—”
You’re the one dripping for it.
The tendril between my legs pressed harder, right against my c**t through the fabric. My head dropped forward, hair spilling.
“Please—”
Please what?
My voice was paper-thin. “Please… don’t stop.”
Good girl.
Another tentacle slid up,
