...Wait...
What...what was their...turn?
They...they already had a...
Isabelle trembled and mewed. "P-Phoe-nee...n-n..."
Her body felt hot, tense.
Her husband didn't bother responding verbally. He simply captured her lips, kissing her.
Hard.
He stole her breath, her soul, from her lungs.
And she offered it up to him, opening her lips to let him ravage her mouth, devouring her like the starving man she knew he was.
And...
It was impossible.
But her body tightened and warmed, heat and want suffusing her so thoroughly, she felt like she might drown in it.
If one kiss, one caress, was this overwhelming, this intense, how would she ever be able to withstand what her husbands had planned for her?
The answer was obvious.
She wouldn't.
But.
She wouldn't be alone, would she?
Her lovers, the loves of her lives - both lives, truly - were here to be just as wrecked, just as devastated and broken apart, just as helpless in the throes of sensation, just as overwhelmed.
