Her small hand over her mouth. Her green eyes wide. Her body trembling. She was confused. She was frightened. She did not understand what she was seeing. She did not understand why the men were putting their mouths on her mother's chest. She did not understand why her mother was crying. She did not understand why her father was watching and stroking himself.
M'baku pulled back.
He looked at the king. He smiled. His lips were wet— wine, saliva, the sheen of a woman's skin.
"Shit, king," he said. His voice was appreciative. Warm. The voice of a man who has just tasted something delicious. "She is the most delicious woman in your harem? You were not lying. She is sweet. The skin is sweet. The tits are sweet. Even her tears are sweet."
The other black man pulled back. He wiped his mouth. He looked at the king. He nodded.
