𝒜𝓁𝒾𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝐻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇

It only speeds him on. His control is breaking, but as his movements become more frenzied, he doesn't forget her request. The dagger has imbued itself into his mind, a sharpness he'll never forget. Would she like to cut him, in bed? A question for later, when she's had more experience.

There is so much to cultivate, in this woman. Her cunning, her ambition, and apparently her ardor.

He works his hand between her thighs in rhythm with his cock, the stuttering of his hips. "I want to hear you," he pants into her skin, "say my name."

And, if those on the other side of the door hear it, well, so much the better for both their reputations.