The room fills with the heady perfume of lilac, Anya's scent, as Eiriley traces her form, his touch electric. He captures her mouth, his tongue claiming hers, as his hands roam, cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples until they're hard peaks. He guides her to the bed, laying her down, his mouth replacing his hands, teasing her, tasting her, until she's writhing, her body begging for more. He gives in, his cock sliding into her, filling her, their bodies moving in a rhythm as old as time.