Zique gripped the sheets tighter, preparing for a pain that did not come. Those imaginary strings around his heart did not tighten and the imaginary pins and needles did not dig an inch deeper.

He didn’t understand, Shontelle had already taken in more than a half of his c*ck, why did he not feel as though he was dying?

Why was the curse not attacking him?

What was going on?

Have the goddess finally decided to give him a break?

Was she going to let him sow a child in peace?

Or was it...was it that the curse was broken?

Zique shook his head. The curse wasn’t broken, the old man said it wasn’t, the old man saw him in a puddle of blood...but if the curse wasn’t broken, what was the explanation for this?

Was the elder really mistaken?

Was he...?

A moan from Shontelle brought Zique back to reality and he gripped her hips even before she could start moving them. “Get off.”

Shontelle tilted her head, her gaze switching from that of intoxication to one filled with malice. “What is it now? You