Giselle woke to the sound of soft laughter and the click of heels on marble.
She had barely slept. Her body still hummed with aftershocks from Valeria’s long night of rope and denial. Every shift of the sheets made her swollen c**t throb and her well-used holes clench around nothing. The golden curse pulsed steadily inside her like a second heartbeat, stronger than ever, feeding on her exhaustion and turning it into fresh, aching hunger.
When she opened her eyes, the bedroom was no longer hers alone.
Lena and Valeria stood at the foot of the bed, both already undressed and wearing matching expressions of dark, obsessive devotion. Behind them waited two more women the curse had summoned overnight: Mira, a petite but vicious fire witch known for her creative pain play, and Selene, a tall,
