Lauralana grunts as she is lifted, her head rolling back on her neck to arch the delicate column of her throat, shuddering violently as he licks at the breast, cleaning it of her blood. Her wrists were starting to become sore from the constant pressure of his grip, and her fatigue threatened to steal her conciousness thanks to the drain of her magical reserves.<br/><br/>Yet she manages to gasp out a reply, after he had lowered her once more, "Not your pet...never...your...pet..." Even as she cringes away from the female spawn's fingers, as if she could cringe far enough. A deep gut wrenching sob is given as the female's fingers and tongue work against her nipple, causing it to bead and pebble tightly.