Lion Head Mesa Hate [m]e baby, maybe I'm a piece of art

the smirk on khusobek's face deepened into something else. something that answered.

she wanted their gazes. their attention. she had his, seized on the basis of intrigue and his own unfed want.

"then learn how to command, hemet." he let his eyes move deliberately across her face, down to the slender throat, the soft limbs. "command me to be at your whim."