Rosamunde whimpered and grasped the top ends of the plush banquette. "Give me your hands," Rafel growled. And when she put them in his, he held her wrists tight, binding her arms and leaving her squirming body for Bruna's total use behind. Brunhilda Penderghast's magenta eyes burned in a healthy dose of female want as she softly pushed apart Rosa's legs.
On the sofa, Ravenna bit on her cardigan sleeves. Her green eyes were bright. She crooned excitedly. "Oh gods, this is taking a'turn. I like it!"
The only one in the friends circle who would have been remotely appalled at the wanton direction this not-so-innocent game was taking was the girl kneeling on the blue cot with her thighs spread, ass out, the gray tints in her eyes darkening by the second. Rosa's closeness to the beautiful demon prince, Israfel had long since purged all the holy out of her. She should object to becoming a literal sex object, but she did not.
Pah!