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“I was in a hurry. Sit with your back against the tree.”

She does. “This book is in another language. I can’t even read it.”

“You only have to pretend to read. You can do that, can’t you? Now bend your knees, plant your feet on the ground.”

Her gaze shoots from the book to me. “Why?”

“Do you want your prize or not?”

Lenore’s gaze travels to the guards and back. “I do. What about them? Even if you’re invisible, they’ll still see you push my skirts up.”

“I’m not going to be pushing your skirts up. This is a modified version of your reward. Stop arguing, Roseheart, and do what I say. Bend your knees and read your book.”

Her eyes narrow on me, but then return to the book. “Hmm. Yes. Fascinating.” She feigns reading.

Careful not to disturb her skirts, I slide a shadow beneath her dress. “What does it say?”

“Well, since I don’t read dead languages, I can only guess…” Her words trail off as my shadow dips beneath her panties. She looks to me, eyes wide, and whispers, “The guards.”

“They won’t know unless you give it away. You better brush up on your acting skills andread the damn book.” She shoots an anxious glance at the guards. “Don’t look at them.” Her gaze settles back on the weathered pages. “Good little raven.”

Her entire body jumps when I slide the first shadow inside her. Her knees begin to close. Looping two shadows around her ankles, I open her legs to me. The first tendril works its way inside her, sliding against her inner wall with short, slow swipes. Lenore is already squirming. Her eyes flick from the book to me. I let her watch as I form a second tendril. Her mouth parts as she watches me suck the shadow between my lips, wetting it. When I’m satisfied, I slide it beneath her skirts, sending it straight to her clit.

“Oh my god.”

“Quiet,” I snap. “Read your book.”

Toying with Lenore while being watched is exhilarating. Her cheeks are red, breath heavy, as I work my shadows in tandem, massaging her insides and stroking her clit. I would rather it be my tongue. That will have to be later.

The pages crinkle as Lenore’s grip on the book tightens. “That’s a very old book. Don’t want to damage the pages.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Her hips shift on the ground, back pressing into the tree. I sneak a third tendril inside her dress. This time I allow it to travel through the neckline, stopping when it lands on her nipple. A few strokes over her peaked bud is all it takes. Lenore presses her lips together, biting back a moan.

“That’s it, stay quiet. Such a good girl.”

I up my shadow’s pace and Lenore throws her head back. Several book pages tear. Her knuckles blanch as I flick the swell of her clit. That poor book is never going to make it. I tighten the shadow around her nipple. The spine cracks.

“Careful, that’s a classic you’re destroying,” I tease. Lenore squirms, fighting to keep her movements small. “Don’t make a sound when you come.”

Her gaze catches mine. Those pleading eyes are fucking seductive. I’d like to see those same eyes looking up at me from the ground as my cock slides between her soft, rosy lips.

“Do you want to come?”

She nods quickly.

“Then read your book.”

The glazed look in her eyes tells me she can’t see a word on the page. Crescent moons dent the soft leather cover from the force of her nails. Even hidden beneath the many layers of fabric, the shaking of her legs is noticeable.

Faster, faster. I loop the shadow around her clit, sliding it forward and back, massaging and sucking. Lenore’s entire body tenses. A shallow whimper sneaks out from between her tightly pressed lips. Her eyes close. Her pussy flutters around my shadows, sending euphoria slamming through me.

The entire encounter begins and ends far too quickly for my taste. I prefer to build Lenore up, teasing and pleasuring her until she bursts. There’s always time for that tonight.

After two more subtle strokes of her clit, a second climax rushes through her. She isn’t expecting it. I chuckle at the moan she releases. One of the guards clears his throat.

Lenore sags against the tree. She gulps down several deep breaths. The back of her head presses against the trunk, eyes still closed. I take in the disheveled state of the priceless book. “How’s the story?”