The beech wood floor clearly reflected the candlelight from within the room.
Amaterasu's perfect form also appeared on the wood grain, like a painting that exists outside of the real world. Fujiwara Reya noticed that the divine beauty's skin showed not a single fine wrinkle, appearing as if it could perfect lighting and width at its own will.
"Sigh—"
A whiff of ethereal white smoke exhaled from those red lips.
Amaterasu's sleepy eyelids blinked a few times, her gaze drifting haphazardly. She seemed a bit tired, lazily turning to her side, propping her elbow on the table, resting her face on her hand.
Still elegantly smoking, with the pipe's slender wooden stem held between two fingers.
While massaging her, Fujiwara Reya suddenly had a mischievous thought as he caressed her silky skin: to reach out and yank her hair, turning the supreme goddess into a nun, he truly wanted to.
Amaterasu swung back her hand.
The pipe stem knocked on Fujiwara Reya's head.
