Lying back on the bed, Amaryllis watches you with a mixture of lust and satisfaction. Her chest heaves with each ragged breath, her nipples hardened to angry peaks against the soft skin of her breasts. She reaches out a trembling hand to touch your cheek, tracing the outline of your jaw before threading her fingers through your hair.

"Ricardo," she whispers hoarsely, "what have you done to me?"

You lean down, your lips finding hers in a hungry kiss that nearly steals her breath away. Your hand cups her breast through the thin fabric of her underwear, squeezing and teasing the sensitive flesh until she arches into your touch with a moan.

"I want more," you breathe against her lips before pulling back slightly to look at her face. "More of this... more of you."

Her lips quirk into a small smile at your answer. "Really? You sing?" There's an almost wistful quality to her voice when she says it. "I used to... before everything changed." She pauses, seeming to wrestle with something inside herself. "Do you mind if I hear you sometime?"

Taken aback by your request, she hesitates for a moment before answering. "Well... I suppose that would be alright," she says cautiously. "But I don't want you to think that I'm just someone who gives in easily." There's an edge to her voice now, a warning not to push too far.

She takes a deep breath and continues, "I was born here in the church... my parents were ministers as well. We moved around a lot when I was younger, but this place has always been home."