The quiet atmosphere of the private chamber remained filled with the heavy, lingering scent of their encounter.
Outside the windows, the mountain breeze rustled softly through the canopy of the Shamanic Grove, casting flickering patches of moonlight across the disheveled white furs.
Zephyra lay flat on her stomach atop the plush pelts, her mature, supple body still twitching in small aftershocks from the intense, multi-stage orgasms that had wracked her body.
Her silver hair spilled wildly across her shoulder, and her skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat.
Between her rounded, parted thighs, the thick, white trails of his seed continued to leak softly out of her spent pussy.
Even then she didn't move and stayed exactly where she was, her face down, arms limp, legs slightly parted, the curve of her ass angled just enough that the pale moonlight caught the shiny mess between her cheeks.
Sol lay beside her, resting his torso on one elbow.
