[R18]Body Count: One, Skill Level: Legendary

The door shut with a soft hiss behind them.

Amara didn't move at first. She stood there, tall and quiet, her pale folded under her chest, lifting it slightly.

She scanned the velvet walls, the gold trim, the mirror stretched across the ceiling like they would vanish if she looked away too fast.

The air smelled like expensive perfume with something deeper beneath it, synthetic lust, filtered and layered until your head started to give in.

Nash didn't speak. He just watched her. Everything in this room was designed to lower defenses.

Including him.

She stepped forward and sat on the bed slowly. Her skirt slid higher across her thighs when she crossed her legs. She didn't fix it. Didn't even glance down.

"You sure you didn't steal this cash?" she asked, trying to sound relaxed. "You play broke way too well."

Nash didn't answer. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it to the chair.

Lean chest. Trim stomach. Subtle definition sharpened by training and stat boosts. He didn't flex, he didn't need to.

"Does it matter if it spends the same?"

Her gaze dropped to his torso and stayed there. She smirked.

"If you're real, you just became the best investment I've made."

[Aura Presence I – ACTIVE]

Target's arousal sensitivity increased. Voluntary resistance lowered. Eye contact resistance -12%.

Amara's posture changed. Thighs pressing together. Breathing slower, deeper.

Nash knelt in front of her. He placed his hand on her knee. Her skin was warm, so warm it almost surprised him.

Smooth. Pale. A little flushed.

She looked at his hand, then back up, eyes half-lidded.

"Shoes."

She raised an eyebrow, testing him.

The authority in his voice ignited a fire deep within her, a need to submit to his will.

She kicked off her heels one by one, her calves flexing with the motion, the sight of her bare feet somehow only adding to her allure.

[Trigger Action – Verbal Authority + Physical Positioning: +7% Lust, +5% Affection]

Nash's hands slid higher, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he pushed her skirt up further.

He could feel the heat of her pussy, her arousal showing even through the thin fabric of her panties.

She didn't flinch. She leaned toward him slightly.

Her body was responding before her mind could argue.

He pulled her gently forward, just enough to shift her weight toward the bed's edge. She followed without resistance.

Then he leaned in and kissed her neck.

Just heat, lip to skin, under her jaw. He didn't press too hard. Just enough to feel the rush of blood pulsing through her.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft skin of her neck as he trailed kisses up to her ear.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands gripping her hips firmly, pulling her flush against him.

She shivered.

Her hand moved to his waistband, but he caught it.

"You don't get to go first," he said.

She paused. Her hand stayed in the air for a second, then dropped to the mattress. She looked him straight in the eye, half defiance, half aroused.

"You got rules?"

"I've got a plan."

She bit her lip, trying to act like it didn't just rise her lust for him.

"You're not bluffing, are you?"

Nash didn't answer.

He stood, placed a hand on her shoulder, and guided her gently back onto the bed.

Her hair spread across the black sheets. Her eyes, half-lidded, never left his. Her lips parted, but she didn't speak.

He watched the rise of her chest. The shallow breath. The tension hiding behind her confidence.

Her skirt had ridden up nearly to her hips now, exposing more of her thighs than she probably realized.

His fingers trailed up her side, from hip to ribcage, savoring the feel of her smooth skin and the flex of her muscles beneath.

He could see the tension in her eyes, the way her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. It was intoxicating, knowing he had this effect on her.

"Don't think I'm easy," she whispered.

"I hope you're not."

She grinned, almost like a challenge, and pulled off her top in one motion.

No bra.

Her breasts bounced once subtle, controlled, then settled into place like they belonged there, soft and still, lifted by breath.

Pale skin stretched tight across a perfect curve. They weren't oversized or small. Just enough to fill his palms, round and weighty, high on her chest.

The kind of shape that looked sculpted by tension and time.

His eyes locked to the silver rings piercing each nipple.

His breath caught.

He'd never seen pierced breasts in person. The metal flashed under the ceiling light, glinting sharp and cold against flushed skin.

Her nipples were already tight, pink and stiff around the steel. He didn't know if it was the air, or the build-up, or the way he was looking at her, but they responded before he touched her.

They were different from Zayela's, no comparison, really. Zayela's chest was two mountains of softness, cushioned, bouncy. The kind of thing that drove you crazy.

Amara was something else entirely.

Her breasts weren't as big, but not too small neither. They invited hands, pressure, lips. Her body practically dared you to explore, then punished you for doing it wrong.

Nash's fingers twitched.

He leaned in, heart racing, and reached forward too fast.

His palms closed over both breasts and squeezed hard.

Amara's body jolted.

"Ah—hey!" she gasped, breath catching between shock and laughter. She flinched, chest pulling back slightly. "You're strong. Careful."

Nash froze.

Shit.

"Sorry," he murmured. "You're just so gorgeous, I got a little carried away."

He started to pull away, embarrassed, but her hand caught his wrist.

"Don't stop. Just... slow down. You're not shaping clay lol."

Her voice was lower now. Breathier. And she was still watching him, but with half-lidded eyes. Her chest rose and fell faster.

He adjusted his grip, applying more pressure with his palms.

This time, he didn't squeezed. He pressed.

His hands cupped Amara's breasts, his thumbs circling the silver rings piercing through her nipples.

The feel of the cool metal against his skin was a stark contrast to the warmth of her flesh, sending a jolt of excitement through him.

He applied more pressure with his palms, sliding them across the swell of her breasts and letting them settle naturally into his hands.

The weight, the softness, it grounded him, Amara's skin radiating a deep, soaking heat that climbed up his forearms.

"Better," she whispered, almost too soft to hear, as Nash traced a thumb around one nipple before letting it drag lightly over the cool metal of the ring.

Nash savored the way her body tensed and twitched at his touch, knowing every sensation was real and genuine.

When he leaned down to kiss the soft swells of her breasts, Nash took his time, luxuriating in the feel of her hot skin and the taste of her flesh.

He dragged his tongue around one nipple, marveling at the way the cool metal of the ring contrasted with the heat of her body.

Amara's back arched off the bed as his mouth worked magic on her breasts, his lips and tongue stoking the flames of her desire to new heights.

She could feel every flick of his tongue, every pass of his lips, and it made her throb with need.

"Oh fuck," she panted, her hands fisting in Nash's hair as she held him close."Your mouth feels so fucking good on my tits. Don't stop."

He let his mouth close around the piercings, his tongue swirling and flicking against the sensitive buds.

He could feel the way her hands gripped the sheets and his hair, holding on for dear life as he worked her nipples with his lips and tongue.

Switching to her other breast, Nash continued his sensual assault, his hands roaming over her body possessively.

He could feel the tremble of her limbs, the hitch in her breath, and it made him throb with pride that he was the one making her feel this way.

"Touch me more," Amara begged, her hips bucking unconsciously against Nash's hand. "I need your fingers on my pussy. I'm so fucking wet for you."

[System Alert – Lust: 96%]

Partner highly responsive. Penetration threshold nearing.

She could feel the evidence of her arousal, the dampness seeping through her panties, and it made her desperate for more.

She needed Nash inside her, filling her up and fucking her until she couldn't see straight.

"Fuck me, Nash," she whined, her voice rough with need." I need you to put that big cock in me and make me scream. Please, I can't take it anymore."

Nash trailed his lips down the column of Amara's throat, his tongue darting out to taste her skin.

He could feel the way her pulse raced beneath his lips, her blood singing with desire. Each kiss and lick sending electricity through her veins.

His hands followed the path of his mouth, mapping the curves of her body with reverent touches.

He traced the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. Every inch of her was a revelation, a taste he wanted to savor.

When he reached the hem of her skirt, Nash paused, his breath hot against her skin.

He could feel the way Amara shifted beneath him, she lifted her hips eagerly, desperate to feel his hands on her bare skin.

She could feel the cool air of the room against her heated flesh, and it made her shiver.

She knew that when Nash saw her fully bare, saw the evidence of her need, he would know just how much he affected her.

Nash's hands trembled as he slid Amara's skirt down her legs, revealing more and more of her smooth, creamy flesh.

The sight of her lacy black panties, damp with her arousal, made his mouth water and his cock strain against the confines of his short.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, his knuckles brushing against her heated core as he tugged them down.

Amara lifted her hips, her glistening pink folds coming into view as the fabric slipped past her thighs.

"Fuck," Nash breathed, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight before him. It was the first time he had ever seen a woman's most intimate place, and it was even more beautiful than he had imagined.

Amara's pussy was slick with her juices, the plump lips swollen and inviting. He could see the little pearl of her clit peeking out from its hood, and the tight pink hole that he ached to bury himself in.

Nash's hands shook as he reached out to touch her, his fingers grazing over her smooth skin.

He was barely able to hold himself back from pouncing on her, from thrusting into her welcoming heat and fucking her until they both saw stars.

Amara's breath hitched as his fingers grazed over her sensitive flesh, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

She could feel the cool air against her heated skin, the dampness of her arousal coating her thighs.

When Nash's eyes fixed on her pussy, Amara felt a thrill of power. She could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his mouth opened.

Knowing that he wanted her, that he was as turned on as she was, made Amara throb with need.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice low and needy. "Please, Nash. I want your mouth on me. I want to feel your tongue inside me."

She spread her legs wider, inviting him closer. Her hands found his hair, tangling in the strands as she guided him towards her aching core.

Amara could feel the heat of Nash's breath against her skin, could feel the way his hands gripped her thighs. She needed him, needed his touch, his taste, his everything.

"Fuck, Nash," she panted, her hips lifting slightly. "Put your tongue on my clit. Suck on it. Make me come all over your face."