She whimpered again at the nip to her neck but forced herself to move. Pulling her pants up, Feyre slid to the floor, twisting to face Tamlin as she kneeled. Mouth opened, taking him in as fully as she could and letting her tongue swirl to fully wipe the taste of her juices from him. Readying herself for lunch would basically just be washing her face at this point. She knew he didn’t want her to wipe away any evidence of the fucking given how eager he was for younglings.