Her back touched the sheets, her skin settling softly against the mattress as she leaned into the pillow with calm, open eyes. She didn't part her lips to instruct him or tease him—she simply let her legs fall open naturally, thighs slightly raised, exposing the warm, wet space between them without hesitation.
She watched him.
Not with hunger, but with full attention.
Rudra stood at the edge of the bed, his hands now unbuttoning the last of his shirt, revealing his chest, his abdomen—tense, warm, already reacting. His breath had deepened, but his eyes remained steady. There was no rush in his movements, no awkward excitement—just a slow realization that what lay in front of him wasn't just a body.
It was a moment. A door that opened only once.
Lazara lifted one arm and rested it behind her head, letting her breasts rise naturally, soft and full. Her nipples were still hard, her skin glowing slightly in the low red light of the Zix Core's afterglow. One of her hands drifted slowly along her own thigh, up toward the sensitive inner skin. Her fingers slid down her pussy, gathering the wetness there, then spreading it gently, casually, like she wanted to remind both of them just how ready she already was.
She didn't moan.
She didn't pant.
She breathed—calm and steady—as if this act was her natural state.
Rudra stepped out of his trousers. His penis was fully awake now—hardened, strong, veins tight beneath his skin. He knelt at the edge of the bed, hands moving up along her legs, slowly feeling the skin, the shape of her muscles, the softness of her knees.
Lazara's eyes closed briefly at his touch. Her legs lifted, bending gently to give him better access. His hands moved over her thighs now, sliding in until his thumbs pressed softly along her inner skin—feeling the slick warmth of her arousal on his palms.
He leaned in.
Her body responded instantly—hips lifting, her pussy slightly twitching as his mouth hovered near her folds. He could smell her now—natural, clean, wet and warm. The scent pulled at him from somewhere deeper than thought.
He kissed her there.
Not a lick. Not a tease. A kiss—mouth against her wet lips, soft and full, like he would kiss her face. Lazara let out a soft breath—not a moan, just air, as her body accepted the contact.
His tongue moved slowly.
Parting her folds. Tasting her.
She opened more.
His hands held her thighs steady as his mouth worked gently, up and down her slick entrance, feeling the texture, the heat, the sharp taste of her readiness. He circled her sensitive spot once—twice—and she arched slightly, her breath catching, her hand now gripping the sheets above her.
Still, she didn't beg.
She let him explore.
Let him learn her.
He sucked gently, then let his tongue push deeper, feeling the subtle twitch in her stomach, her soft moans growing more frequent.
"Just like that," she whispered, voice low and real.
He didn't stop.
Not until she trembled once, thighs tightening briefly around his head, back arching fully now, her voice coming out in a breathless moan as she came.
The wetness deepened.
Her body pulsed.
She didn't cry out. She just breathed—heavy, full of release.
When Rudra rose above her again, she pulled him down into her kiss—tongue to tongue, her taste now shared between them.
And then she pulled his body between her legs.
Her entrance—slick and warm—pressed against his tip.
She looked into his eyes and spoke clearly.
"Now," she said. "Take me."
Rudra entered her slowly.
The warmth wrapped around him instantly—tight, wet, deep. Her walls adjusted to him, her legs rising higher, pressing against his sides. She closed her eyes only briefly as he slid fully inside—then opened them again and smiled.
He moved.
Slow at first.
Their hips touched. Her breasts bounced slightly with each push. Her hands ran over his back, nails dragging faint red lines along his skin, her moans quiet but deep.
The bed creaked beneath them.
His pace quickened.
Their bodies collided again and again—wet skin against skin, her breath broken now, mouth open, hair spread across the pillow.
She wrapped her arms around him, then her legs, locking him in, pulling him deeper.
"You feel real," she gasped. "Harder."
He obeyed.
He thrust deeper, stronger—her body welcoming every movement, every stretch. Her moans filled the room now—throaty, rhythmic, rising with each push.
Rudra lowered his lips to her breast, sucking gently, tongue circling her nipple as he drove into her. Lazara cried out this time—hands gripping the back of his neck, arching fully into him.
Their rhythm built faster.
Her second orgasm came harder—her body shaking beneath him, her legs tightening, her breath caught in her throat.
Still, he didn't stop.
He changed position—lifting her leg over his shoulder, angling deeper. Her eyes widened at the shift, the new pressure inside her.
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, just like that."
Her nails dug into the sheets now.
Rudra thrust again—strong, deep, steady.
Her body slick with sweat, moans loud now, uncontrolled.
And when he finally came—deep inside her, with a final thrust and a groan into her neck—they held each other tight. His release poured into her warmth, mixing with hers, filling her as her body twitched around him.
They didn't speak.
Not for minutes.
Their bodies lay tangled, sweaty, warm.
Lazara kissed his cheek gently.
And whispered—
"You've awakened more than a power tonight."
—