Aiden sat up slowly on the edge of the bed. He reached for his pants, buckling them. His sharp blue eyes found Lusha still sprawled across the sheets, her voluptuous cat-girl body rising and falling with every shallow, blissful breath.
Her hair fanned out like spilled starlight, cat ears twitching faintly, luminous eyes half-lidded in dreamy haze.
Her emerald-green skirt was bunched around her waist, the thin lace of her panties torn and soaked, and between her thick, plush thighs—puffy outer lips still glistening with a mixture of his cum and her own sweet squirt—his seed continued to leak in slow, creamy rivers down her toned legs.
Aiden's heart swelled with a tenderness. *My shy little cat-wife… still so wrecked from me and yet looking at me like I hung the stars.* He smiled, the expression soft and utterly devoted, the same smile he reserved only for his daughters and his wives.
He reached back, pulling the soft white handkerchief from his pocket.
