He looked her over once, slow, unimpressed in a way that landed harder than any insult could have.
The woman laughed anyway, a brittle, twitchy sound, covering the sting of it. "Loose pussy, really? You haven't even touched me yet."
"I don't need to touch you to know."
"Come here and prove it, then."
He did.
He pulled her onto his lap in one motion, ignoring her small yelp of surprise, and she went rigid, then trembling, unsure whether to fight or lean in, her training pulling two directions at once. His hand slid down along her robe, found the hem, pushed beneath it toward the thin fabric of her panty.
"W-wait, I didn't say you could—"
He pressed two fingers against the fabric and found it already damp despite everything, and she gasped sharp and high, hips jerking against his hand on instinct alone.
"Yeah," he said, unbothered, tracing slow circles that made her breath stutter. "And it feels loose."
