Emberli was the sort of man who saw what he wanted, got it, and put it to whatever use he felt necessary - especially when it came to women. Over the years he'd kept a variety of lovers and had treated sex like just another arena to gain experience and improve skills in. Sex, to him, was far more than being about pleasure; it was a connection, however brief, between two souls. No woman was ever a number to him, even though some liked to think that's how he operated.
Pulling her in tighter to his body, he began tearing off her clothes to get at the pale flesh beneath. It was time to sate his appetite, and then hers.
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Emberli, as he always did, was out like a light shortly after they finished. Laying on the bed, covers strewn about, the man's impressive bulk lay like an unmoving log. If she'd not fed already, it was the perfect time for Eryn to fulfill that particular desire. That is if she could move easily enough.
The man had a bad (good?) track record of wearing women out to the point that they were bedridden for several days. Their body was a tool to be put to use, and he made sure to get the maximum use he could before the end; thankfully, he knew enough restraint to not cause injury, but the threat of it was always seemingly imminent when he was involved.
So, with the Mandalorian soundly hibernating, Eryn could do as she pleased for the moment.
