Layla let him move her, Aisha's words flickering through her head, talking about how he was first.  Could she truly love someone enough to put them before her in everything? The thought made a funny fluttering feeling in her tummy, and she wondered why Aisha had yet to sire their Master a son. She was glad that she hadn't bore one for her husband; she would have seen him slaughtered and she thanked the Gods for being kind enough to spare her that.<br/><br/>"Aaaahiiiiiieeeee!" she cried, arching and twisting, bucking under him, her body fighting him for a moment, but not in a way that meant she was trying to get away, it was just responding to his stimulus.  Crying out again, short vowel sounds with each subsequent thrust, she kept rocking up against him, her back working to meet him in the middle.  She wasn't going to let him do all the work and somewhere in her mind she knew that Aisha would be stepping up her game in order to keep the Prince interested.  She definitely wasn't going to be a lay-about, and neither was Layla.<br/><br/>Paying attention to his tempo, she clenched him tightly, milking him on every deep thrust that penetrated her body and provided her with delicious waves of pleasure. Layla watched him as they coupled, her eyes carefully taking in his facial expressions as she moved.  What made him hot? What pressed his buttons? She had to know.<br/><br/>Pleasure filled her and grew deep within her body, pressure building up and she came, riding his cock hard, her ass clenching as she bucked, muscles growing weary.  "Oh… Master!" she cried softly, her cup running over, as well as her cunt as she squirted her come against his thighs.  Her hips rutted against him, hands clutched at his body where she could with the angle, which was his back and sides as he kissed her, having tasted so much of her body.<br/>