"Shit, Yasha, I can't anymore," Beau manages to gasp out, her whole body still shivering from the umpteenth orgasm.

Yasha lifts her face up from between Beau's legs, the pale woman's hair wild and tumbling across her bare shoulders, the flush on her chest from effort making Beau's toes curl.

"I thought you wanted this," Yasha says, running her hand along the bar that keeps Beau's legs pulled open, "so that you couldn't ask me to stop."

Beau wheezes a laugh, "Yeah, well I thought you'd give up after a couple of hours."

Yasha's mismatched eyes narrow with the hint of a smile, "Sounds like you underestimated me."

Yasha lowers her mouth back to Beau, and the monk groans and writhes with pleasure.