CHAPTER 201: SUFFOCATING

The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy enough to crush breath.

Olivia froze, color flooding her cheeks, her hazel eyes wide with disbelief.

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again, but no words came, her breath catching in her throat.

Kiara tilted her head, her smirk playful but sharp, her presence filling the silence like a storm waiting to break.

Lor sat still, his gaze steady on Olivia, waiting, his heart pounding with anticipation.

Her hands clenched against her thighs, nails digging through the fabric of her pants, her breath uneven as her mind spun.

Disbelief, indignation, and something far more dangerous—a pulse of heat throbbing low in her belly, sparked by the memory of his tongue, his hands, the way he’d undone her moments ago.

Her lips parted, her voice a bare whisper, trembling with a mix of shock and reluctant desire. "...Intercourse?"

Lor nodded, his tone still carrying the weight of possession. "It is the demand of the light."

Olivia sat stiff-backed, hazel eyes flicking between him and Kiara, her lips pressed thin.

"That’s..." she began, her voice sharp but trembling, "that’s not right. You already have a girlfriend."

Lor opened his mouth, but Kiara moved first, stepping forward from the doorway, her tall frame cutting through the slanted sunlight like a blade.

Her dark hair cascaded in loose waves over one shoulder, her blouse straining over her full bust, the buttons pulling just enough to hint at the curves beneath.

Her icy-blue eyes glinted with a teasing challenge, her lips curling into a smirk that was both playful and dangerous.

"And I’m perfectly fine with it," she said, her voice smooth, as if that was not an unnatural answer for a girlfriend.

Olivia’s head snapped toward her, hazel eyes wide with disbelief, her breath catching. "What?"

Kiara tilted her head, her smirk deepening, her skirt swaying against her toned thighs as she took another step closer.

"If you’re scared, Olivia, I’ll even help. It’s fine. Really."

Olivia’s knuckles whitened, her fingers digging into her thighs, the fabric creasing under her grip.

Her chest rose and fell faster, her blouse pulling tighter, betraying the pulse of heat she couldn’t hide.

Lor raised his hands, his expression softening, his hazel eyes warm and reassuring.

"Hey. It’s okay," he said, his voice low, almost tender. "If you don’t want this, you don’t have to. Honestly... I think the Light’s request might be a bit much this time."

His lips quirked into a sheepish smile, his gaze steady. "It’s fine. I understand."

His words struck deeper than the ritual’s demand, tugging at Olivia’s pride, her guilt.

She turned to him, biting her lip, her hazel eyes searching his face, then flicking to Kiara—tall, unashamed, her confidence a silent taunt.

Something hardened in Olivia’s expression, a spark of defiance igniting.

"...I’ll do it," she said, her voice clipped, almost challenging, as if daring herself as much as them.

Lor blinked, his grin faltering, surprise flickering in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" His voice softened, testing, but a spark of anticipation danced in his gaze. "You know what intercourse means, right?"

Her hazel eyes narrowed, sharp and cutting, though her cheeks flushed scarlet, spreading to her neck.

"I know what it means, Lor," she snapped, her tone biting. "I’m not the one struggling at the bottom of the class."

The words were harsh, but her trembling hands betrayed her, the flush deepening as Lor’s crooked smile returned, catching the contradiction.

The air grew heavier, charged with the weight of her decision.

Kiara leaned against the wall, her arms crossed under her bust, her smirk a silent approval, her presence fueling the tension.

Olivia shifted, her thighs rubbing together subtly, her voice barely a mutter. "So...What next?"

Lor tilted his head, his voice bold, low, and steady, a teasing edge curling through it.

"Do you want it done quickly and directly? Or should we... take our time with some foreplay first?"

Her breath caught, a sharp hitch echoing in the quiet room.

She should say quick—efficient, over with, the practical choice for a girl like her, all control and pride.

But the memory of his tongue on her skin, his fingers unraveling her, the way her body had arched under his touch, betrayed her.

Her thighs pressed tighter, a pulse of heat throbbing low, her mind screaming denial while her body whispered yes.

"...Your wish," she murmured, her voice barely audible, trembling with reluctant desire.

Lor’s smile ghosted across his lips, warm and wicked, his hazel eyes darkening with intent.

He leaned forward before she could steel herself, capturing her mouth in a kiss.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t clumsy—it was slow, a tide washing over her defenses.

His lips moved against hers with gentle insistence, teasing the line of her mouth until her breath hitched.

Olivia froze at first, stiff as armor.

But the warmth, the softness, the sheer intimacy of it melted into her, and her lips parted against his without her permission.

Her hands clenched at her sides, trembling, nails digging into her palms as she fought to hold her ground.

Lor pressed closer, his warmth seeping into her, one hand sliding from her cheek to her neck, then her collarbone, his fingers feather-light but sparking heat.

Olivia shuddered, a low whimper vibrating against his lips, her body betraying her resolve.

His other hand trailed lower, finding the buttons of her blouse, working them loose with unhurried care.

Each pop was a quiet thunder, the fabric parting to reveal the thin black bra clinging to her breasts, her chest rising harder with each breath.

Her blouse slipped open, baring her pale shoulders, smooth and trembling under the sunlight’s golden caress.

Lor’s hand slid inside, his palm gliding over the heat of her skin, cupping her breast through her bra, kneading gently.

Her nipples hardened, straining against the fabric, and when his thumb brushed one, Olivia broke the kiss with a sharp, shivering breath, her hazel eyes wide with heat.

"You—" she stammered, but the words dissolved into a gasp as he leaned in, claiming her lips again, his tongue stroking hers with slow, pervy hunger.