A slow, excited smile touched Riley's lips as his gaze settled upon the sight before him.
Iris lay back against the silken pillows, her body a study in trusting abandon, and at its apex was the fresh, smooth, wet pussy offered so willingly to him.
The air, thick with the scent of her arousal—a mix of sweet musk and warm skin—hung between them like an intoxicating perfume.
In that suspended moment, he truly could not believe his luck.
But now, with Iris's desire laid bare, her eyes dark with need, he silenced his inner awe and gratitude.
He was more than willing to accept this boon with open arms, to lose himself in the tangible reality of her affection.
His earlier urgency melted away, replaced by a calm stillness.
This was not an act to be rushed.
He wanted to memorize this moment, the delicate pink folds glistening in the soft light of their chamber, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.
