I pulled her hips up and back until she was on her knees with her chest pressed against the mattress, face still buried in the pillow, ass in the air with my handprints decorating both cheeks in overlapping red maps. The position put everything on display.
The soaked fabric at mid-thigh. The stockings still holding on. The milk that had run down her stomach earlier now smearing across the dark sheets beneath her.
I dropped my mouth to her breast where it pressed sideways against the mattress, found the nipple, and sealed.
\[You drink a mouthful of milk from a Silver-tier target. As a result, you get 50 points!\]
Dark chocolate. Cayenne. The taste of someone who had spent her entire life convincing the world she didn't need tenderness and was just now discovering what happened when someone gave it to her anyway, wrapped in enough roughness that she didn't have to feel ashamed about wanting it.
My other hand slid between her legs from behind.
