Novel & Cerita Douma X Akaza Spicy

— Turn. His voice is low, hoarse, an order that brooks no hesitation. I swivel in place, offering my back to his inspection. Behind me, Isadora sits in a red velvet armchair, legs crossed with calculated elegance. She wears a tight dress, black as night, slit up to the thigh, revealing fishnet stockings and stiletto pumps. His lips, painted blood red, stretch into a smile when my buttocks come into Kael's view. “Pathetic,” she murmurs, sipping her wine. Look at that, Kael. It looks like she has never seen a day of fasting in her life.