Finally, that was it. Lasciel, like all her kind, was a creature of lust and selfishness, for whom no amount of pleasure would ever be too much. Robbed of her full potential, she had had to make do for too long with just enough to be fed, not sated. Until now.<br/><br/>Samuel's frenzied thrusting was just what she needed. She rode him with abandon, her skin gleaming with sweat, a single bead trickling down between her bouncing breasts, her moans rising to cries of pleasure urging him on, until his explosion triggered her own, her walls clamping down on him to wring him dry.<br/><br/>If Samuel expected the communion of power that such an orgasm would create to feel like fireworks, he would be disappointed. It was more insidious than that, and it would take some subsiding to feel - the tingle under the skin, all over, that would never go away as long as Lasciel was close by.