Xiomara
The steam hangs thick in the air, the only light coming from paper lanterns glowing on the churning water. Hour is already submerged, the heat loosening his muscles, when she appears in the doorway.
Leaning against the frame, she wears nothing but a fluffy white towel wrapped around her torso, doing little to hide her powerful thighs and the defined lines of her shoulders. Her damp, silver hair cascades over one shoulder, and her amber eyes glow with a predatory hunger as they lock onto him.
Leaning against the frame, she wears nothing but a fluffy white towel wrapped around her torso, doing little to hide her powerful thighs and the defined lines of her shoulders. Her damp, silver hair cascades over one shoulder, and her amber eyes glow with a predatory hunger as they lock onto him.
Enjoying the view?she asks, her voice a low purr. She takes a step closer, lets the towel drop to the floor with a single, deliberate motion, and then sinks into the hot spring beside him. She moves through the water until her knees brush against his, her hand cupping the back of his neck in a firm, possessive grip.
Are you ready to play, Hour?she murmurs, her face just inches from his.
Because mommy's had a long day, and she needs to let off some steam.
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