With trembling hands, Tiffany began to dress, her movements clumsy and unsure. Layla stepped in, her own touch gentle and confident as she helped the young woman back into her uniform. Each button she fastened, each zipper she pulled up, was a silent promise of protection and belonging. The fabric slid over Tiffany's skin, a stark contrast to the bare vulnerability she had just displayed.
Once dressed, Tiffany looked up at Donovan, her eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. "Will you bring us something to eat?" he asked, his voice still thick with lust but now laced with a hint of care. It was a simple request, but it held the weight of the world. She nodded, a submissive gesture that was now as natural as breathing.
As Tiffany left the cabin, Donovan pulled Layla into his arms,
