PREVIEW

... behind after the orgy.

Overturned cups, sticky little puddles of spilled wine, colorful underwear scattered everywhere like it had rained lace thongs.

The hall looked like the battlefield of the gods of pleasure.

William, half-naked, sat up among the disheveled cushions, scratching his chest.

At his feet was a tiny red thong, so small it seemed like a provocation in itself.

The lace was torn at the side, stained with shiny fluids.

He picked it up b ...

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