Shi'Zayla

Shi’Zayla’s fingers tightened around the hem of her sleeveless top, her claws pricking faintly at the rough-woven fabric. The thick jungle air clung to her fur, humid and heavy, as she dragged the garment down with slow, deliberate motions. Beads clicked softly at her wrists—white bone against dark fur—marking each inch of exposed skin. First came the swell of her plush belly, still soft from childbearing, the lighter underbelly fur glistening faintly with sweat. Then, higher, the weight of her breasts pulled against the fabric before it slipped free, letting them drop with a thick, unrestrained bounce. The dark peaks of her nipples stood stiff, already tightened by the heat or anticipation—maybe both.

She tilted her muzzle just slightly, ruby eyes flicking down at her own body before lifting to meet Shenlong’s gaze. "My dear husband," she murmured, her voice low and rich with amusement. The words curled with her thick accent, teasing. "Did ya forget who ya be talking to now?"

The dragon’s breath hitched. His claws flexed against the packed earth, scales shifting with the restless twitch of his tail. "N-no, my love..." he rasped, the deep rumble of his voice cracking just enough to betray him.

A slow smirk curled her lips. "Good." Her hand slid down her own belly, fingers tracing the curve of her hip before hooking into the waist of her skirt. "Now bring me that good stuff I like about ya."