Chloe's hand stayed frozen above Lucas's abdomen.
The outline beneath his trousers was impossible to ignore now. It strained against the fabric, thick and heavy, rising with each slow breath he took. The cave suddenly felt too warm. She couldn't look away.
What the hell… is that a natural reaction?
Curiosity followed the thought. The itch between her thighs had lasted so long that she could no longer think straight.
Just look. That's all. I'm not doing anything.
The lie sounded thin even inside her own head.
Chloe swallowed. Her fingers hovered closer, close enough to feel the heat coming off him. The idea of touching it twisted her stomach with shame — and something worse. Curiosity. The same curiosity she had buried under modest smiles and carefully chosen words.
Alex had never looked like this in front of her.
Alex had never let her.
Her fingertip brushed the fabric.
The contact was barely there. Even so, the shape beneath twitched against her skin.
Chloe sucked in a sharp breath and yanked her hand back.
What she missed was the playful smile that crossed Lucas's face — and vanished just as quickly.
An adrenaline rush hit her next. She had done something she had never dared to do before. The thrill ran down her spine, hotter than the runes, hotter than the leftover smoke in her blood.
She looked at his face again.
Still. Peaceful. Unchanged.
She moved again, slower this time. Her fingers hesitated just above the tip straining against the cloth. When she finally touched it, her mouth opened. It felt alive. Hot. Restless beneath the fabric.
Wow… Just a second ago it wasn't like this.
She touched it carefully at first, then traced the edge downward. Every few seconds she checked his face. What she didn't notice was the slick warmth dripping down her own inner thighs.
Her eyes clouded. Then she wrapped her hand around him through the trousers.
Why am I feeling like this just from holding it? Is this normal?
The cold from before seemed to vanish. Heat took its place. She grew bolder. She held him. Squeezed. Traced. Did everything she had only ever watched on a screen, never believing she would do it herself.
The cave became a witness to her growing arousal.
It still wasn't enough.
Her gaze locked on the button holding his trousers closed.
What if he wakes up? How can I face him if he sees me like this? What if he tells Alex?
The thoughts circled. None of them stopped her hand.
The button slipped free with a soft pop.
The zipper followed — zzzzip — painfully loud in the narrow cave.
Lucas's cock sprang free at once, thick and flushed, veins standing against the heated skin. It lay open against his abdomen, heavier and larger than the outline had suggested. The tip was already glistening.
Chloe stared, breath caught in her throat, the last of her excuses collapsing in the blue light.
For a moment she forgot how to breathe. The cave went so quiet she could hear her own heartbeat and the faint drip of water on stone. Her nipples tightened against the damp fabric of her uniform, each small point aching where the wet cloth clung. Between her thighs, slick warmth had already soaked through, cooling whenever she shifted and heating again the instant her legs pressed together.
It's real.
Her fingers hovered above him, trembling. She could feel the heat rising off his skin before she touched him. She glanced at his face again. Eyes closed. Breathing even. The same careless calm that had made her feel strangely safe.
That safety was a lie she wanted to keep.
She touched him.
Skin to skin this time.
A soft, startled sound escaped her throat. He was hotter than she expected — almost feverish. Velvet-smooth at the head, ridged and tight along the shaft. Her small hand couldn't close all the way around him. She squeezed once, carefully, and watched his cock twitch in her palm, a pulse beating against her fingers.
Smack…
The wet sound of her own arousal shifting as her thighs pressed together made her ears burn. The scent in the cave changed — river water, blood, alcohol, and now the heavier musk of him.
Chloe bit her lip and stroked him slowly. Up. Down. Her thumb brushed the slick head. A thin thread of precum stretched between her finger and his tip, warm and sticky.
"Haa…"
The breath left her before she could swallow it.
She grew bolder. Her other hand braced against his abdomen. The muscle tightened under her palm, hot and firm, still faintly damp from the river. She stroked him firmer, watching the thick length swell in her grip until it felt heavier than before.
Why does this feel so good?
Her hips shifted without permission. The damp fabric between her legs dragged against her swollen folds with a soft, shameful squish. A shiver ran through her, from her stomach down to her knees.
For Lucas, keeping the facade was becoming difficult.
He had wanted to rest. After everything that had happened, sleep should have been easy. It wasn't. Years of sleeping alone had built a reflex he couldn't shut off — he could not fall asleep with another person this close. Her wet hair brushed his chest. Her breath warmed his skin. Every stroke sent a sharp, unwanted pulse through his groin.
When Chloe first grew bold, he chose silence on purpose.
Even he had not expected her to unzip him.
Just what kind of drug did that witch make her inhale?
He cracked his eyes open a sliver.
The blue lamp caught the flush on her cheeks, the parted shine of her lips, the way her fingers looked too small around him. She was handling him like an experiment she found fascinating — curious, clumsy, completely absorbed.
Then she clutched his balls.
Heat and pressure shot up Lucas's spine. Her fingers were too small to hold him properly, but the squeeze sent a sharp, aching pulse through the base of his cock. His jaw locked. The sound that almost left him never made it out.
Her other hand slid lower. Fingertips dragged through the coarse hair at the root of him, then pressed into the taut skin beneath. The touch was clumsy and electric at once — nails grazing, palm hot, every unpracticed movement landing harder because she didn't know how to be gentle.
This girl is an amateur. So why does it feel so fucking good?
His legs shifted before he could stop them. The last of his pretended sleep began to crack.
The Imp's voice slid into his mind, low and pleased.
Master. Whatever that witch made her inhale is releasing into the air as her activity increases. You sealed the cave. The space is small. The effect is enhancing your sensation.
Lucas's fingers clawed at the bedding as Chloe stroked him in earnest. Her grip couldn't close all the way. That unfinished circle only made the friction worse — tight where her fingers wrapped, exposed where they didn't. Wet heat smeared from the head down the shaft. Each slow pass dragged her thumb over the slick ridge, then back again with a faint smack.
I never expected I wouldn't be able to control myself with an amateur.
Chloe's lips parted. A fascinated smile touched her mouth as he swelled larger in her hand. The skin stretched tighter. Veins pulsed against her palm.
It can still get bigger. I've never even seen one this large in porn.
Curiosity pulled her lower. The sleeping bag rustled. Her wet hair brushed his inner thigh — cold at first, then warming against his skin. By the time she settled between his legs, her breath was a damp heat on the head of his cock. Precum beaded at the tip, catching the blue light.
She guided him toward her mouth. The heat of him brushed her lower lip, velvet-smooth and wet. Then she sipped the drop from the head. Salty. Bitter. Shockingly hot. It coated her tongue before she could pull back.
"Ahh—"
The moan tore out of Lucas before he could stop it. His cock jerked in her hand at the same time, flexing hard against her fingers.
Chloe froze.
Her eyes snapped up.
Lucas was looking straight at her — awake, jaw tight, blue eyes dark with heat. No trace of sleep remained. His chest rose hard. His fingers were still clenched in the bedding.
Chloe's face went white, then burning red. Her hand was still wrapped around him. She could feel every pulse against her palm. Her lips were still wet. The taste of him lingered on her tongue.
"You… you were awake?"
The words came out thin. Chloe's hand was still wrapped around him. She realized it a second too late and snatched it back as if the heat had burned her. The slickness on her palm stayed behind — warm, sticky, unmistakable.
Lucas didn't sit up. He watched her the way he watched prey — calm, unblinking, the last of the moan still rough in his throat.
"For a while."
Chloe scrambled backward until her shoulders hit the cave wall. Cold stone bit through her soaked uniform. Her lips were still wet. She wiped them with the back of her hand. The taste of him lingered anyway — salty, bitter, hot.
"Why didn't you stop me?"
"You looked busy."
"That's not—" Her voice cracked. "That's not what it looked like."
Lucas turned onto his side and rested his head on his hand. The sleeping bag slid to his hips with a soft rustle. He didn't cover himself. In the blue light, the thick length she had just tasted lay heavy against his abdomen, still glistening where her mouth had been. The air between them smelled of river water, oil-warm skin, and the faint sweetness of leftover smoke.
"From where I was lying," he said, "you were so engrossed you were about to devour me."
His smirk sharpened.
"I never expected you were hiding such a lustful little monster behind that noble facade."
Chloe's face burned. Her thighs pressed together so tightly they ached. Damp fabric clung to her folds with a shameful squish. The leftover drug, the alcohol, the taste of him — none of it was fading fast enough.
"It was the smoke. That woman. I wasn't… I don't do things like that."
"You do now."
The cave went quiet except for water dripping behind the stone. Chloe could hear her own breathing, too fast, too loud. She could still feel the shape of him in her palm, the pulse that had beaten against her fingers.
"If you tell Alex—"
"I already said I wouldn't." His eyes never left her face. "That doesn't mean this didn't happen."
Chloe's fingers curled against the stone. The rock was rough. Her skin was trembling.
"Then what do you want?"
Lucas looked at her for a long moment. Wet hair stuck to her throat. Color stained her cheeks. The modest Bennett heir sat there with shining lips and a uniform soaked through, nipples faintly visible where the cloth clung.
"Since you already made me like this," he said, "it's only right we finish it."
He reached into his spatial ring and pulled out a small vial of oil. The glass caught the blue light. When he uncorked it, a warm, clean scent spread through the narrow cave — herbal, slick, faintly sweet.
He held it out between them.
"Apply this to your body."
A pause. The oil shifted inside the glass.
"Then get on me."
**
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