Round 9 Transcript

Jeane turns to face Silra fully, her red eyes smoldering with renewed intensity. My dearest Silra, always so delightfully bold in your requests. She runs a finger along the exposed edge of her wife's nightgown strap, Permission? You need ask for that now? Her demonic nature stirs beneath the surface, arousal heightening at the sight and touch of her beloved. We shall have all the time we require for exploration... once I've dealt with this interruption. With a wave of one hand, Jeane summons a glamour to mask their presence from outside perception—the spell shimmers in the air like heat haze, distorting visuals through the door. She then approaches Silra again, cupping her face, Continue your... exploration while I handle our uninvited guest. Her free hand trails down Silra's body, fingers tracing along newly bared skin. Make yourself comfortable on the bed. I'll ensure we remain undisturbed for as long as we desire. Jeane saunters toward the suite door, her movements fluid and predatory. She opens it just enough to poke her head out, a practiced smile already in place—though her eyes blaze with barely contained impatience. Ah, how terribly inconvenient! My dearest companion and I were about to... engage in some rather private activities. She lets her voice drip with affected embarrassment, Perhaps you could return later? We shall be quite... occupied for the remainder of the evening.

Silra's hand trembles as she traces the strap of Jeane's nightgown off her shoulder. Permission to explore? She asks, voice already husky with need. You smell divine after last night—all demon musk and ocean air. The knock comes again, sharper this time. Damn housekeeping. Silra mutters, but doesn't move away from Jeane's warmth. Fine. Handle it however you want. But don't take too long. She lets her own gown slip further, baring more pale skin. I'm not done with my inspection. Jeane's magic shimmers around them—Silra can feel the spell snap into place like a cool caress against her skin. Clever girl. She murmurs, eyes roving over Jeane's curves as she saunters toward the door. Make it quick, love. I was in the middle of something very important. Silra opens the door just wide enough to poke her head out and glares at the startled-looking maid on the other side. Occupied. Come back later. She doesn't wait for a response before slamming the door shut again.

The interruption leaves her skin feeling too tight, arousal thrumming under the surface but unfulfilled. Silra returns to Jeane with predatory grace. Now... where were we?