
Damien didn’t let her clean up.
He left Aria lying on the soaked black leather couch, thighs still shiny with piss and the slow leak of his cum from her ass, while he walked to the kitchen and poured himself another drink. The city glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows like it was watching. Aria’s heart pounded. She could see the reflections of her own naked body in the dark glass—spread open, marked, owned.




















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