As the minutes passed and the strength to retaliate started to fade, Lyanna’s face was flushed and her breathing became pants for air.
Poison King savored the sight of Lyanna writhing with discomfort on his bed as he sipped the bottle of wine at a leisurely pace.
“You look exactly like her,” he repeated. “You have no idea how much that turns me on. You’ll be begging for me to take you any moment now.”
Poison King was in no hurry. He knew that the drug needed time in his victim’s system to reach its full potency.
When it does, she will be my very own nympho.
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