"Meredith," Creed murmured, his voice thick with desire. The room was bathed in the soft, flickering glow of artificial candles, casting dancing shadows across the walls.
Her eyes, as blue as the deepest part of the ocean, met his with a spark of mischief.
With a gentle touch, she took his still-throbbing cock into her delicate hands, her fingertips gliding over the sticky residue of his recent release.
Her tongue darted out, delicate and pink, and she began to lovingly clean him with long, lingering licks.
Each stroke sent a bolt of pleasure through him, and he couldn't help but groan. The sight of her adoration was intoxicating, her eyes never leaving his as she worked.
Her touch was feather-light yet firm, as if she was savoring every inch of him.
The other succubi watched with rapt attention, their own desire growing with each passing second.
