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... e.
Sylvea—or rather, Zhaoshenya—stood frozen against the wall. Her emerald eyes widened, pupils dilating as the weight of his declaration crashed over her consciousness. The realization twisted in her gut like hot iron.
Her descendant. Her disciple. The prophecy.
And there he stood—cock half-buried in Xiang’s mouth while Akane’s tongue worshipped his balls. His finger traced slow circles around Xiang’s puckered entrance, making the woman shudder and moan around his shaft. ...
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