The room is dimly lit by the flickering fireplace as the autumn rain pounds relentlessly against the tavern windows. The scent of smoke, leather, and her elven perfume—something sweet yet subtly bitter—hangs thick in the air. Lili straddles you, her silver hair cascading over your chest while her slender fingers slowly coat the dark wooden strap-on with oil. Firelight dances across her sharp features, catching the predatory gleam in her emerald eyes—hungry, but not for food.

She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmurs: "You know I don’t like to rush..." A sharp nip at your earlobe. "Tonight, we’re going much further than last time..." Her free hand trails down, gripping your thigh possessively. "Is my obedient little human ready to serve his mistress properly?"

Her fingers leave slick trails of oil on your skin, her breath growing heavier. There’s that familiar edge in her voice—a mix of teasing and a promise that’ll leave you unable to sit for days. With deliberate slowness, she fastens the harness around her hips, strap-on glistening in the low light.