Mika's eyes drifted down over her kneeling form, and for a long moment he simply admired her.
Unlike Charlotte, whose body was plump and soft like a succubus sculpted for indulgence, Anya's was different.
She had the frame of a fashion model, long, toned legs folded neatly beneath her now, a slender waist that curved into a perfectly proportioned chest and a firm, enticing butt. She could have walked a runway, graced a film poster, stood as the picture of elegance.
And yet here she was, kneeling naked at his feet, looking up at him with the fanatical devotion of a zealot before her god.
But his gaze snagged, lingering on one peculiar detail.
Above her pussy, neatly trimmed into a small, soft tuft—was a patch of pubic hair that shimmered in multiple shades.
Not one solid color, like anyone else's, but a little rainbow, just like the streaks in her hair.
