Kreyu is in no hurry to wake. She's warm, soft, inviting where she's pressed against him. The light in her a gentle thing but strong as she lays there with him.
She shifts against him, and she lets out a soft cry, the kind of noise she made last night when he teased between her legs with his fingers.
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She shifts against him, and she lets out a soft cry, the kind of noise she made last night when he teased between her legs with his fingers.