SWEET BLOOD
She cupped one of her breasts with her free hands.
Grace's face flushed. She'd nailed the night's events, as most of these slaves were going to nail the mother sorcerer. Every single one of them will be orgying any minute now.
Oh, that's gross. She'd just made the word orgy a verb.
When the tent flap lifted, she was about to excuse herself. A new man, a slave, entered, and he, too, was nude. He, too, was tall and oiled, albeit skinny and lanky. Grace didn't recognize him, but her gaze devoured him. Her pulse rate increased, and her blood temperature rose. Her skin tingles with pleasure. She knew him.
Sikat na Kabanata