He is just helping her out, right?

Reya hesitated, but the ring’s influence was already at work, softening her resistance. "I—I am a little sore from yoga earlier," she admitted, her voice breathier than she intended.

Aslan’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. His hands slid down her back, firm and possessive, thumbs pressing into the knots along her spine before drifting lower, lower—until his fingers grazed the swell of her ass. Reya gasped, but she didn’t pull away. The ring’s power hummed, its hypnotic energy whispering directly into her mind.

"You want this. You need this. Your son's touch is the only thing that can satisfy you now."

Reya's breath came faster, the neglected milf's cheeks flushing as Aslan's rough hands roamed, kneading the plush flesh of her hips, her thighs, his fingers dipping dangerously close to the heat between her legs.

"I found something… special today," Aslan murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, his voice dripping with dark promise. His hypnotic hold growing with each rapid heave of his mother's massive chest.

Reya turned her head slightly, her green eyes locking onto his—wide, curious, already half-lost in the ring’s corrupt thrall. "W-what is it?"

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand, letting the bronze band of the Osiris ring catch the light. The ancient hieroglyphs shimmered, pulsing with an eerie, hypnotic glow that seemed to pull at her very soul.

"Touch it," he commanded, his voice layered with power.