Cora’s tongue was hot on Jules’s cheek, a slow, deliberate lick that cleaned away Maya’s wetness. The act was possessive, a primal marking of territory. Jules shuddered, a fresh wave of arousal mixing with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Look at you," Cora growled, her voice a low, satisfied rumble.

She grabbed a handful of Jules’s hair and pulled her up from the bed. Jules’s legs were weak, and she stumbled. Cora held her steady, her grip like iron.

"A mess. A beautiful, filthy mess."

She dragged Jules across the room, not to the bathroom, but to a massive, floor-to-ceiling mirror that covered one entire wall. She forced Jules to...