Monique was a vision of sensuality and grace, her beauty so profound it seemed to weave its own light in the chamber's air.
Her face was truly angelic—high cheekbones, full lips perpetually slightly parted, and eyes the color of twilight, framed by dark lashes.
Yet, it was the exquisite contrast of her ethereal features with her lavishly curved body that stole the very breath from one's lungs.
Her breasts were generous and heavy, crowned with taut, pink nipples that already pebbled in the cool air, begging for attention.
Lower, the thatch of curls at the junction of her thighs was silken and neat, and beneath, the hidden folds of her pussy were a smooth, delicate pink.
The lips were nestled tightly together, so pristine and closed that Riley felt a sudden, possessive awe—a certainty that the Duchess before him was untouched, a pure and virgin maiden awaiting her first discovery.
