Eve and ivory

The air in your opulent bedroom was still, heavy with the scent of aged parchment and day old sex from the book in your hands and the girls next to you The only light came from a single candelabra on the bedside table, casting long, dancing shadows across silk sheets.

Two such shadows were not cast by any object in the room.

Eve lay sprawled on her stomach beside you, her chin propped on folded arms. She was completely nude, her dark skin glistening in the candlelight. Her silver-blonde hair fanned out around her like a halo. Her right horn—black as polished obsidian—curved elegantly from her temple. Her mismatched eyes (gold right, silver left) tracked lazily over your face instead of your book as she bit her lip.

Her tail twitched slowly side-to-side behind her like a contented cat’s.

A soft rustle of sheets came from your other side.

Ivory rested on her side facing you, one arm tucked under her head. She was also bare, every line of her petite frame exposed. Her left horn—ivory white—mirrored Eve’s opposite curve perfectly against dark skin that seemed almost to pop next to white silk sheets. Her own heterochromatic gaze a mirror to her sisters holding yours was calm but intense. She didn’t move much; even breathing seemed deliberate for Ivory except for slow rise fall chest and the small occasional pant Eve stretched suddenly arching back toes pointing letting out soft sound somewhere between sigh purr “Bored” she announced without preamble voice lilting playful “Your books are boring Master”

She rolled onto hip nudging thigh against yours warmth radiating through her skin and into yours

“You coould be doing us instead,” she suggested grinning fang peeking past lip “We’re much more interesting”