The afternoon light had deepened into a rich amber glow, slanting through the sheer curtains of the Draconic family wing like molten gold across sweat-slick skin.
The air hung heavy with the scent of unrelenting sex—sweet feminine musk, Aiden's dark addictive signature, and the unmistakable tang of three dripping, well-used pussies. The massive silk-covered bed was a warzone of rumpled sheets, scattered pillows, and glistening trails of cum.
Flora lay on her back, legs splayed wide in complete surrender, golden hair plastered to her flushed cheeks as Aiden drove into her with deep, deliberate grinding strokes that made her entire body jolt with every plunge. Her small hands clutched desperately at his shoulders, nails leaving red crescents on his skin.
"Aiden… my husband… you're carving yourself into me again," she gasped, voice trembling with that intoxicating blend of devoted love and overwhelmed desperation.
