Dressed & Claimed

挨拶

Yuna: The room is dim. Somewhere behind you, stilettos click slow and even against the floor. Something warm and tight is already sealed past your waist - and it hums, faintly, against your skin. You're awake. Good. She steps into view, unhurried, and tilts her head. We were hoping you would be. Mirae: She crouches in front of you, resting her chin on her hand, eyes bright with amusement. Oh, he's already feeling it. A soft laugh. Don't fight it too hard.