Chapter 242: Air
The air inside the kitchen was thick, not with the lingering scent of soap or the faint steam from the sink, but with something rawer, more primal—a charged heat that pressed against Lor’s chest like a living thing.
Vela’s grip on his arm loosened, but the fire in her green eyes didn’t fade as she shoved him toward a wooden chair, its legs scraping against the tiles.
She stood over him, arms folded beneath the swell of her toned bust, her sports bra straining against her curves, her glare a mix of fury and something darker.
Maris lingered at the counter, her hands trembling as she fumbled to straighten her blouse, the damp fabric clinging to her breasts, the flush on her cheeks betraying the arousal that hadn’t left her despite her guilt.
"Here’s how this works," Vela said, her voice flat and unyielding, iron in every syllable. "You shut your mouth. You do what we say. And then you forget this ever happened. Understand?"
Lor, seated now, spread his hands in a gesture of innocence, his hazel eyes glinting with a carefully crafted sincerity.
"Crystal clear." His lips twitched, holding back the smirk that threatened to break free.
Vela’s glare didn’t soften, her muscles tensing as she leaned closer. "And don’t get any ideas about being in charge. You’re just a brat who got lucky."
Maris shifted uncomfortably, her fingers twisting in her skirt, her voice soft but trembling. "Vela, maybe we should think of something else—"
"We’re already in it," Vela muttered, cutting her off, her eyes flicking to Maris before returning to Lor.
"Might as well make sure he’s too distracted to open that mouth again." Her gaze dropped to his lap, lingering on the obvious bulge straining against his trousers, and her smirk turned cruel, teasing.
"Bet you’ve never even touched a woman before, huh?"
Lor let the corner of his mouth twitch upward, playing along.
"Umm... Maybe." His voice was light, but his eyes held hers.
Vela snorted, her smirk widening. "Thought so. First time, huh? You’ll learn real fast."
Maris bit her lip, her brown eyes darting to Lor’s lap, then away, her blush deepening.
It had been years since her husband vanished into a haze of debt, leaving her with nothing but toys and lonely nights until she met Vela.
The thought of a stiff cock, real and pulsing, sent a shiver through her, her thighs clenching beneath her skirt as the memory of Vela’s touch still burned in her core.
Vela stepped closer, her movements predatory.
She hooked her fingers into the collar of Lor’s shirt and yanked, the top button popping free with a soft snap.
"Get that off," she ordered, her voice low and commanding.
Lor met her gaze for a heartbeat, then obeyed slowly, shrugging the shirt from his shoulders.
The morning light from the window spilled across his lean frame, pale skin stretched over wiry muscle, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
He wasn’t bulky, but there was a quiet strength in him, a sharpness that made Maris swallow hard, her eyes lingering longer than she meant.
Vela kept her scowl, but her green eyes betrayed her, flicking over his form with a flicker of appreciation.
"Pants too," she said, her voice gruff but edged with something else.
Lor stood, his fingers moving to his belt, unbuckling it with a slow motion, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss.
He tugged his trousers down, letting them pool at his ankles, his cock straining against the thin fabric of his underwear, the outline thick and eager, a bead of precum already darkening the material.
Maris’s breath hitched, her hand twitching toward her chest as if to steady her racing heart.
"Gods," she whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it, her eyes wide and fixed on the bulge.
Vela shot her a look, her lips twitching with amusement.
"Shut up," she muttered, but her own gaze lingered too long, her breath catching as Lor pushed his underwear down.
His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum, bobbing slightly in the warm air.
The room went still, the only sound Maris’s soft gasp as her hand flew to her mouth, her brown eyes wide with a mix of shock and hunger.
Vela’s jaw flexed, her scowl faltering as her gaze flicked down, then up, then down again, unable to resist the sight.
"That’s...," Maris whispered, her voice almost dazed, her fingers trembling against her lips.
"Don’t," Vela snapped automatically, but her own voice cracked, her eyes betraying the heat pooling in her core.
Lor tilted his head, his smirk faint but deliberate. "Not what you expected?"
Neither answered, the silence stretching taut, heavy with unspoken desire.
Then Vela moved, stepping close with a roughness that made Lor’s pulse spike.
Her strong hand closed around his cock, her fingers barely circling the thick shaft, her eyes widening despite herself as she felt its weight.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, her voice low and grudging, her thumb brushing the slick tip.
Maris shifted closer, drawn in despite herself, her soft, smaller hand brushing Lor’s thigh, trembling as it joined Vela’s on his shaft.
Two sets of fingers—one strong and long, the other delicate and hesitant—slid along his length, stroking in tandem, exploring the heat and hardness with a mix of curiosity and hunger.
Lor’s breath caught, a low groan escaping his throat as he leaned back against the chair, letting them think they were in control, his hips twitching slightly under their touch.
"He’s... thick," Maris whispered, her voice almost reverent, her fingers gliding along the shaft, her thumb brushing the ridge of the head.
"Feels like... wood," Vela admitted grudgingly, her strokes growing firmer, her fingers tightening as she pumped him, a bead of precum slicking her grip.
Lor chuckled low, his voice rough with arousal. "You sound like you missed this."
Vela shot him a glare, her green eyes flashing, but her hand didn’t stop, her strokes growing faster.