"Then come, my dear Isis," said Astrid with a mischievous smile, her lips still glistening with provocation. "But remember… he's still under my care."
Isis returned the gaze with a golden gleam in her eyes, as if accepting the challenge.
"Sharing, I can do. But yielding... never."
"Hehe, we'll see then," Astrid laughed, rising with feline grace, leaving Aziz's lap with an elegant glide. She settled beside him, her white hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid silk, making room for Isis to take what she clearly desired.
Without hurry, Isis approached. She sat before him, legs crossed, posture perfect — the embodiment of a woman who had mastered the game from the first glance. Her body radiated a quiet, almost arrogant confidence. Her blood-red eyes didn't stay on Aziz's face for long; they slowly descended, like someone admiring a living work of art, until they stopped at the center of his lap.
