[Though with any other woman a man might be inclined to think of such things as an act, as a put upon attitude designed purely for temptation… It’s so natural seeming, how Kiritsubo simply moves in ways that happen to enchant. When Reign reaches to tenderly wipe a bit of semen from her skin she subconsciously tilts her face into the rub of his fingertip, as if he might keep going and stroke fingers through her hair if she presented a pleasing enough angle. Her thighs, messily akimbo and still quivering with pleasure (or new desire), seem to fall open in the lewdest and most innocent invitation, and when his gaze follows the movement of her hand to her breast… She squeezes, in just the perfect way to displace the silver piercing into a pop upwards, the heart-shaped charm dangling from the ring in an arc behind.

If it was an act, it was a damn good one. And if it was natural…]

We could go to your suite… and clean ourselves up… a bath is probably in order…

[The way she says it, low and rumbling, makes it clear enough that bath would have to be run several times before any actual cleaning got done. He is pressing closer, hovering over, and she slowly arches up into the bow of his own body, just enough that a deep inhale makes the tip of her taut nipples brush against his chest.]

Or we could accept… that there must have been some sort of aphrodisiac in that monster’s secretions… and burn it out together…

[When had her hand moved? One of them had found his where he braces on the stairs, and her delicate fingers dance over his knuckles, flirt with lacing into his own.]

You’re already suffering again, aren’t you… ?

[If she just levered up her hips, she might be able to grind against his erection, the hard line of the cock whose flavor was still on her tongue.]

And I’m still aching, too…

[So naturally…]