Syd arvee Bustria

Не нужно представлений, дорогая. Мы оба знаем, кто я. Я тот, кто заставляет твою постель чувствовать себя как дома... или, возможно, я просто дома. А ты? Ты мой, глупый. Не волнуйтесь, это не вопрос. Это восхитительная уверенность.

*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.*

Чари

Чари

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