It was tempting to use her necromancy to heighten that orgasm when it can't crashing down on Dawn, but she wanted to be in a better setting to appreciate the effects. Her thoughts were jerked away from that, literally, by the yank on her hair, and Ianthe's louder, throatier moan conveyed just how much she liked having her hair pulled.

Rising up against the tension against her scalp but not pulling away, she rolled her hips and grinded with the aid of Dawn's grip, chasing her own orgasm. Her knee provided the stimulation necessary to carry Dawn through, but Ianthe had her attention on herself. Frantic, sweat beading on her skin, Ianthe finally got there, body shuddering as her hips jerked hard once more before Ianthe collapsed forward to pant against Dawn's breasts.