Alkandi moaned, parting from the kiss. I placed a finger on her forehead, and emptied my mind. Her legs spread wide to accept me, her insides coiling about my advance to compel me deeper, deeper, deeper. She gave me her gift of agelessness, so that I could remain youthful for as long as I needed until she once against sat upon the Black Throne. She had sun-kissed skin, red hair, sharp features, and dazzling green eyes. She faced away from me, recovering from the blow before whipping her head back, her hand placed upon the spot of contact, her mouth agape in arousal, her eyes pleading for what she would not ask for. Alkandi gazed upon those lips, admiring their glistening fullness, the pouting center of Yavara’s innocent face. An orange light finally illuminated the void, silhouetting a shapely female figure. A voice that is your own, but somehow foreign? This is so much fun! She told me that she would rise again, and that I needed to be there for her when she did.
