CHAPTER 205: CROSS-LEGGED

Lor sat in the corner of the empty classroom, cross-legged, his back pressed against the cold, worn down wall.

His hands rested lightly on his knees, head tilted slightly downward, eyes shut tight.

To any passerby who might glance through the door’s narrow window, or to Olivia, he could’ve passed for someone deep in meditation—his shoulders rising and falling in a steady, rhythmic breath, a faint, ethereal glow pulsing from his skin like a subtle halo in the dim afternoon light filtering through the blinds.

But meditation?

Hardly.

He was replaying it all, every scorching detail etched into his mind like a forbidden film on loop.

The way he’d thrust into Olivia’s tight, welcoming pussy, her back arching in ways that proved her that she was more flexible than anyone expected.

Those hazel eyes of hers, always so composed, had lost all control—widening in shock before glazing over with raw, unfiltered pleasure.

Her ragged gasps had filled the room, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson that spread down her neck.

And gods, the way her full breasts had bounced wildly when Kiara joined in, pinching those sensitive nipples until Olivia whimpered.

He could almost feel it again—the way her inner walls had clenched around him, milking every last drop, her little moans escaping despite her best efforts to bite them back.

His cock twitched involuntarily at the memory, straining against the fabric of his trousers, a persistent ache that refused to fade.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, eyes still closed.

That was... incredible. And with Kiara right there, egging us on.

My life really is insane now.

Across the room, Olivia moved with a mechanical calm, as if piecing herself back together could erase what had just happened.

She’d already slipped back into her charcoal-gray trousers, tugging the waistband up over her curvy hips with a sharp yank, the fabric hugging her figure like it had been custom-molded to accentuate every swell and dip.

Her fingers worked methodically at her blouse buttons, one by one, each click smoothing away the lingering evidence of chaos—the faint sheen of sweat on her chest, the subtle disarray in her posture.

Her light brown bob clung slightly to her damp temples, a few strands plastered there like stubborn reminders, but she ignored them, fussing instead with her collar as if adjusting it could restore her unshakeable poise.

Yet, beneath that facade, her cheeks still held a telltale flush, and her breathing hadn’t quite steadied.

"Stand still," Kiara’s voice slithered from behind her, silky and laced with that ever-present mischief.

Olivia stiffened, her spine going rigid. "What are you—"

Before she could finish, a sudden chill swept over her body, prickling her skin like a thousand tiny needles.

She gasped sharply, shuddering as every bead of sweat, every sticky remnant between her thighs and across her breasts, crystallized into frost.

Delicate patterns of ice spread like intricate lace over her flesh, the sensation sharp and oddly invigorating—cold enough to make her nipples harden anew, alien enough to send a jolt straight to her core.

Then Kiara snapped her fingers, the sound crisp in the quiet room.

The frost shattered in an instant, exploding into sparkling motes that vanished into thin air like fleeting snowflakes.

Olivia’s skin was left pristine—clean, dry, and still tingling with a faint, rosy flush.

"Better," Kiara said, stepping back with a grin that showed just a hint of her sharp canines, her icy-blue eyes sparkling with playful triumph.

Olivia whipped around, clutching her half-buttoned blouse to her chest like a shield.

"What the hell was that?" Her voice came out breathier than she intended, a mix of indignation and lingering surprise.

"Cleaning up," Kiara shrugged nonchalantly, though her grin widened, clearly reveling in the reaction.

She stepped closer, her hand darting up with surprising speed to cup Olivia’s breast through the thin fabric, giving it a gentle, teasing squeeze.

"Mmm. But you were enjoying yourself way too much earlier to complain now."

Olivia gasped, her body jerking back instinctively, her face igniting into a scarlet blaze that crept down her neck.

"Stop it!" she hissed, but there was a waver in her tone, a hint of something unresolved lingering from their shared intimacy.

Kiara just smirked, her fingers brushing over the hardened nipple one last time before retreating, slow enough to draw out the sensation.

"Oh? You only like it when it’s Lor’s hands all over you? Fine, I’ll leave these for him next time." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial purr, eyes flicking toward the corner where Lor sat.

Olivia sputtered, her composure cracking like thin ice under pressure.

"I only did that for Lor," she snapped, her voice rising louder than she meant, echoing slightly off the classroom walls.

Her hazel eyes darted toward him, lingering for a fraction too long before snapping away. "That’s all. Don’t twist it into something it’s not."

Kiara tilted her head, her lips curling into a knowing, almost affectionate smile.

"For him, huh? You mean you moaned, yelled at god, and squirted all over his cock... just for him?" She let the words hang, each one dripping with teasing emphasis, watching Olivia’s reaction with gleeful intensity.

Olivia froze, her cheeks blazing so fiercely she could feel the heat radiating off them, her mind scrambling for a retort that wouldn’t come.

She opened her mouth, closed it again, the words dissolving into a mix of anger, humiliation, and an unwelcome spark of arousal at the vivid reminder.

Kiara leaned in closer, her breath hot against Olivia’s ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

"You moaned so sweetly, Olivia. He’ll never forget the way you clamped down on him, begging for more." Her hand darted up again, quick as a flash, pinching the nipple through the blouse just hard enough to elicit a sharp yelp.

"Stop—ah!—stop it already!" Olivia slapped her hand away, stumbling back until her hip bumped the edge of the desk.

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her body trembling not just from the chill but from the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her—frustration, embarrassment, and a reluctant thrill. "You’re insane."

Kiara chuckled low in her throat, a rich, velvety sound that filled the room with her unapologetic delight at Olivia’s fluster.

She tossed her hair back, her icy eyes glittering like polished gems.

And then—

"88 divided by 8 is 11."