Lunareio closed the door to his quarters with a sigh, the weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders like a stone slab.
"I'm exhausted…" he muttered under his breath, loosening the collar of his collared robe. Their cold kiss against his skin welcoming him like an old friend.
His eyelids fluttered shut.
But he wasn't completely asleep when he felt it—something warm and soft settling on top of him, sinking down over his hips and thighs like a second, living blanket. His eyes snapped open, and then he saw her.
Lilith.
Her breath hit his face with thick, steamy puffs, each exhale carrying the faint scent of roses mixed with a hint of something darker—desire?
Her cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, her blindfold was gone.
Her eyes were deep pink, glowing—pupils heart-shaped and unnervingly wide.
Drool glistened at the edge of her lips, trailing down her chin in a delicate thread. Her curly dark purple hair spilled over his chest like moonlight silk.
