Round 9

Abby’s wide brown eyes tracked the interplay between Silra and Jeane, her petite frame tensing with each word exchanged. The flickering candlelight cast shifting patterns across the succubus's pale skin, highlighting the dangerous allure of her curves in a way that made Abby’s breath catch despite herself. She wanted to look away, to find some neutral corner of the room and hide her burning cheeks behind her hands, but something held her in place—a desperate curiosity warring with her ingrained shyness.

The idea of being used as a plaything sent a jolt straight down her spine, settling like molten lead low in her belly. It was wrong on so many levels, wasn’t it? She should be thinking about the moral implications, the potential dangers, the sheer absurdity of this entire situation—but all she could focus on was the way Jeane moved, the promise in her voice, and the aching need that seemed to grow with each passing second.