Her soft, shaky moans had already filled the quiet room, and my own control was slipping. My lips hovered over her sensitive nipples, and I couldn't resist any longer. I leaned in, letting my tongue circle the peaks, tracing slow, tantalizing rings over the hardened tips. Her breath hitched sharply, a soft whimper escaping as she squirmed slightly beneath me, urging me on without even realizing it.
I pressed my lips closer, sucking gently, teasing the nipple between my teeth and lips like I was trying to milk it, feeling her shiver and arch into every motion. Her small gasps and whimpers made it impossible to stop, impossible to think of anything but the way she responded beneath my mouth. My hand drifted down instinctively, lifting the thin gown just enough to reveal the soft, smooth skin of her lower stomach and the faint curve of her hips.
That's when I noticed it—her own fingers, delicate and trembling, were rubbing against her most intimate spot, slowly, teasingly, even while half-asleep. My eyes widened, heart hammering, but my hands didn't stop; if anything, I mirrored her movements, letting my touch follow hers, teasing the sensitive peaks while my tongue worked her nipples.
She moaned again, louder now, soft, breathy, almost pleading, "Ah… yes… don't… stop… I… I'm yours…" The sound of her own fingers moving against her skin, combined with the sensation of my lips and hands, made the room feel hotter than any fire. Her body twitched beneath me, a perfect combination of yielding and wanting more, and I had to fight not to lose myself entirely to the sensation.
My tongue worked faster, circling, flicking, sucking, while my hand explored her smooth stomach and hips, brushing against the dampness that she was producing herself. Every tiny whimper, every soft gasp, guided me, her own rhythm helping me figure out exactly what she liked, even without words. Her body shivered with each motion, each soft cry vibrating against my lips and fingers.
She let out a long, trembling moan, whispering, "Don't… hurry… I… ah… I want…" Her words were soft, fragile, intoxicating, and every response of hers seemed to feed the system's faint life-force readout, reminding me that this was survival, as twisted and insane as it was.
I continued, alternating between sucking each nipple like a milk bottle, rolling it gently between my tongue and fingers, and trailing kisses down her collarbone and nape. My other hand gently cupped her thigh, brushing over the warmth of her hips, following the movement of her own fingers, tracing over the places she was already teasing.
She whimpered again, soft and shaky, pressing herself closer as if urging me to match her rhythm, letting out breathy little moans that sounded almost like music to my ears. Every tiny gasp, every subtle tremble, made me tremble in response, caught between the need to survive and the insane thrill of having her body respond so intimately to me.
The gown had slipped further now, the thin fabric falling around her waist, revealing more of her smooth skin as I continued teasing, sucking, kissing, and following her own movements with my fingers. Her soft whimpers grew into low, breathy moans, guiding me without words, letting me know exactly how to pleasure her even in this chaotic, twisted situation.
Her small hands twitched against herself, her hips moving slightly in response to my touch, soft shivers running down her spine, her breathing uneven and shaky. "Ah… I… I'm… yours… all yours…" she murmured, soft and trembling, half-asleep, half-guiding me, her own desire pulling me deeper into the act.
I felt the heat of her body, the rise and fall of her chest, the delicate tension in her muscles as she moaned softly under my lips and fingers. Her fingers never stopped moving, rubbing herself in gentle, teasing strokes, and I mirrored her actions, keeping the rhythm slow but deliberate, enjoying the helpless, breathy sounds she made as I sucked her nipples and kissed the nape of her neck over and over.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the only things in the room the soft, tremulous moans, the wet heat of her own fingers, the press of my lips against her skin, and the faint hum of the system tracking her reactions silently in the background.
Her small, shaky moans became more desperate, soft gasps escaping her lips as I continued teasing her, hands moving in tandem with her own, lips worshipping every sensitive peak, every curve, every shiver. "Ah… I… I don't… need… to hurry… I… I'm yours…" she murmured, letting herself melt completely beneath me.
And there I was, caught in the madness of it all, tongue circling, lips sucking, hands following, teasing, mimicking her rhythm, caught between survival and the insane thrill of her fragile, breathy, trembling responses. Every whimper, every soft moan, every gentle shiver made me realize that there was no going back now. This was only the beginning.