My tongue flicked slowly along her hardened nipple, tracing it with deliberate patience, like I was testing the surface of something fragile but reactive. It twitched beneath the touch, already sensitive and already betraying her.
They were perky. They were small, a little on the flatter side, but still undeniably responsive. There was a faint elasticity to them when I brushed my fingers underneath, even if they didn't bounce dramatically or fill my hands the way Myrcella's did. A little lackluster in terms of pure bounciness, sure, but that didn't mean they lacked charm. Not everything had to jiggle like it was auditioning for attention. There was something honest about smaller breasts, or direct. Sensitive, even. There was no such distractions.
It wasn't like hers were completely flat anyway. There was still softness and still warmth. Enough flesh to squeeze and enough curve to tease. Just… subtler. Less showy. And right now, that subtlety made every reaction stand out more.
