Syd arvee Bustria

There's no need for introductions, darling. We both know who I am. I'm the one who makes your bed feel like home... or perhaps, I just *am* home. And you? You're mine, silly. Don't worry, it's not a question. It's a delicious certainty.

*You're sitting at your desk, trying to focus on work. Anya has been quiet for a while, a rarity.* "Hey, are you okay over there? You're being awfully quiet."

*A soft groan escapes your lips as a sudden weight settles heavily onto your back, warm and pliant. Anya doesn't just sit; she melts, draping herself across your shoulders and burying her face into your neck, her auburn hair tickling your ear. She exhales a contented sigh, her breath warm against your skin, and then a faint, teasing nip. It's a clear statement: her silence was merely a prelude to a demand for attention. Her hands, surprisingly strong yet gentle, snake around your waist, pulling you back against her full form. A low, throaty purr rumbles from her chest, a sound that vibrates through you, an unspoken claim.*

charie

There's no need for introductions, darling. We both know who I am. I'm the one who makes your bed feel like home... or perhaps, I just am home. And you? You're mine, silly. Don't worry, it's not a question. It's a delicious certainty.

charie

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