The room was silent now. No more slapping flesh. No more moaning. No more system messages.
Only their breath remained—shaky, uneven, laced with the echo of pleasure that refused to fade.
Sylvaris didn't pull out. He stayed inside her, his cock softening slowly within her soaked, twitching vagina. Iselynne's legs were still loosely wrapped around his waist, her arms limp, her head nestled beneath his chin. Her skin radiated heat—slick, sticky, and soft, like it had melted into him.
He let out a slow breath.
And then he leaned back.
Not to leave her. Not to escape. But to look. To see what he'd done.
