The orgasm hit her like a lightning strike, a brutal, blinding flash of pure sensation that vaporized every coherent thought in her head. Her body was no longer her own. It was a vessel for a storm, a wild, bucking thing that convulsed and shuddered in Alaric's lap, her back arching, her nails digging into his shoulders. A raw, ragged scream tore from her throat, the sound of a soul being ripped apart by a pleasure so intense it was indistinguishable from agony.
As the last, shuddering aftershocks of the climax rippled through her exhausted limbs, a single, desperate, and utterly defiant thought managed to claw its way through the fog of her shattered mind. A threat. It was all she had left.
"My husband," she gasped out, her voice a ragged, broken thing, each word a monumental effort between shuddering breaths. "General Bao... he's a Martial King!"
