Allen tilted his head, still smirking down at the trembling mess of a foxgirl choking gently on his cock.
"You only gonna nibble on it like a squirrel, sweetheart?" he teased. "Or you gonna suck like you mean it?"
Veyna whimpered, cheeks flaming red, trying to shake her head as if to deny it—but her tongue was still stroking along the underside of his shaft, lips sealed around the girth like she'd been trained to do this.
Fina's laugh was cruel. "She is nibbling," she said, crouching behind Veyna with a wicked glint. "But not for long."
With no warning, Fina yanked Veyna's robes apart—ripping them from the folds around her waist. The second they fell away, the scent hit them like a truck.
Wet.
Hot.
Absolutely drenching.
Her thighs glistened. The fur between her legs was matted with slick, and her folds—bare, pink, needy—were twitching like they were begging to be filled.
