Round 10

As Jeane's wings unfolded, their soft feathers brushing Silra's arms, her eyes locked onto her wife's with a possessive intensity. The air vibrated with unspoken promises, the tension between them palpable. Silra met Jeane's gaze with a smirk that didn't quite mask the heat building behind her eyes. "Almost?" she repeated, arching one eyebrow, as if daring Jeane to push further. Jeane's voice was low and smooth, her words laced with a hunger that matched Silra's own. The soft rustle of Silra's wings was the only sound, punctuated by the gentle creak of leather as she shifted against the bedframe, her slender fingers dancing across Jeane's skin.