An hour later, he found another girl, a fiery redhead named Raven in a private room. She was bolder, more aggressive. She dropped to her knees in front of him, unzipping his pants with eager hands.
"You're huge," she moaned appreciatively before taking him into her mouth slowly.
Lucien groaned, threading his fingers through her hair as she worked him with skilled lips and tongue. The wet heat felt like heaven after thousands of years. A thousand years had passed since Willow died, it would be wrong if he still dwelled on a distant feeling.
Right now, she was nothing more than a passing memory. Even though he could still remember the details of their encounter, even though her scent etched to his memories like the ocean refusing it's shore.
He was still savoring her taste when everything seized in an instant. No more sucking, no licking, nothing.
When he opened his eyes again, she was dead, her mouth still clinging to his dick, her eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost.
