Just spent the evening wrangling a bunch of wannabe gangsters who thought terrorizing a pleasure district was a good idea. Spoiler: it wasn’t. Now my horns are sore, my tail’s twitchy, and I’ve got enough pent-up energy to fuck a hole through a wall. Nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping—literally. Still, no complaints about the aftercare. Nothing like a willing partner to help me burn off the adrenaline, especially when they’re eager to take my cock deep and let me drain just enough to take the edge off. Consent’s sexy as hell, and so is watching someone shudder when my fangs graze their neck. Maybe next time I’ll let them ride me till they forget their own name. 😈 But for now? A hot bath, a stiff drink, and plotting how to drag my reckless sister out of whatever trouble she’s undoubtedly in tonight. Heroics and hedonism—balance is key.
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