One dip.
A promise was a promise, even when it was a torment to keep. Oathran had to pull out eventually. With a low, ragged groan that spoke of immense… reluctant willpower, he did.
He pulled out slowly, exquisitely, until the sudden, cool air of the room was a shocking contrast on his cock to the heat they'd shared.
Cecilia slumped back in the chair, a breathless chuckle escaping her. Her face was flushed a deep, beautiful red, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. "Suddenly so determined…" she managed, her voice a husky tease, "…to finish the game…?"
Oathran growled, frustration mounting. "Aaaahhh…" he sighed as his cock twitched violently with the abrupt loss of her tight, wet heat. He stumbled back a step, his hip knocking against the edge of his own magical construct, making the whole table shudder. "Deal," he commanded, his voice rough. "Deal the next hand."
The cards levitated, beginning their silent shuffle.
