The loosened ropes lay coiled on the sheets like crimson serpents, discarded after their purpose had been served. Faint red welts encircled Ai's wrists and ankles, delicate bracelets of restraint where she had strained against them in ecstasy. Her body was a living canvas of his desire: dark fingerprints blooming on the pale column of her throat, vivid handprints staining the curve of her ass, teeth marks indenting the soft swells of her breasts. His cum had dried in irregular streaks along her inner thighs, while fresh rivulets continued to seep lazily from her swollen, well-used pussy and ass.
She trembled in the aftermath, every muscle quivering with delicious exhaustion, yet her eyes—dark, dilated, insatiable—still burned with unspoken hunger.
Asahi brushed damp strands of hair from her forehead, his lips gentle against the salt of her dried tears. "Are you all right, love? Was it too much?"
