CHAPTER 207: SMOOTH

"Hot?" Kiara cut in, her voice smooth as silk, one eyebrow arching as she leaned forward slightly, daring him to confirm it.

Lor laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. That’s one way to put it." The memory flickered again—Olivia’s trembling thighs, her broken moans, the way her body had surrendered completely.

His cock twitched at the thought, a faint ache stirring despite the exhaustion.

Kiara pushed off the desk with a fluid motion, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor as she closed the distance between them.

"You should’ve seen her face," she purred, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, each word laced with delight.

"The way she tried to act like she didn’t want it—like she was above it all. But I saw it, Lor. She wanted it. Craved it. I just gave her a little push." Her smirk turned hungrier, her eyes glinting with a mix of pride and arousal.

"And watching you take her like that... gods, I wish I could’ve joined in more."

Lor’s breath hitched, his grin faltering for a moment as her words sent a fresh jolt through him.

His cock stirred again, straining against his trousers, but he kept his expression cocky, leaning into the moment.

"Next time, maybe," he said, voice low, testing the waters.

Kiara’s eyes narrowed playfully, her lips curving into a challenge.

"Next time?" she echoed, stepping even closer until the heat of her body was palpable.

"Next time," he repeated, his tone firmer, a promise wrapped in a dare.

Her smirk widened, and in a flash, her hand shot out, grabbing his belt and yanking him forward.

Their bodies collided, his chest pressing against hers, the sudden closeness stealing the air from his lungs.

His grin slipped into something darker, hungrier, as her scent—something sharp and cool, like winter air mixed with a hint of spice—filled his senses.

"But there’s still one problem," Kiara whispered, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "I didn’t cum."

Lor barely had time to process the words before her mouth crashed into his, hungry and unrelenting.

The kiss was raw, almost bruising, like she was trying to devour the smugness right out of him.

Her tongue slid against his, teasing and demanding, her hands curling into his shirt, tugging hard enough to stretch the fabric.

He groaned into her mouth, his hands finding her ass instinctively, squeezing the firm curves as she ground against him, the friction through their clothes igniting a fire in his core.

Her hips rolled with purpose, pressing against the growing hardness in his trousers, and he could feel the heat of her even through the layers.

They kissed until their lungs screamed for air, the world narrowing to the taste of her lips, the press of her body, the way her nails dug lightly into his chest.

When they finally broke apart, both were flushed, panting, their eyes locked with a dangerous heat that promised more to come.

Kiara licked her lips slowly, her smirk returning as she caught her breath. "You’ll make it up to me later," she said, her voice a low, sultry promise.

Lor swallowed hard, his throat dry, but his grin was back, bold and unapologetic. "Why not now?."

.

.

By the time they slipped back into the classroom for the final lesson, the atmosphere had shifted to something more mundane, the earlier intensity buried beneath the hum of routine.

Miss Silvia’s voice carried through the air, crisp and formal, her chalk tapping the board with a rhythmic finality.

"...and remember, the interclass tournament begins the day after tomorrow. Review your notes. That’s all for today."

Chairs scraped against the floor, students rustled their bags, and the room buzzed with the low chatter of dismissal.

Kiara slipped through the door first, her confident stride drawing a few lingering glances from classmates, while Lor trailed a beat behind, his posture more relaxed.

Silvia turned just as they entered, her eyes flicking over to Lor, lingering for a fraction longer than necessary.

A faint flush crept up her cheeks, barely noticeable under her composed exterior, but her voice remained steady. "Lor."

He blinked, "Uh—Yes Miss Silvia?," he replied, his voice a touch too casual.

She smiled faintly, a small, professional curve of her lips, but there was something in her eyes—a flicker of curiosity, maybe even warmth—that didn’t belong in a teacher’s gaze.

"Glad to see you’re... helping your classmates," she said, her words which definitely meant more than what she said.

Then she swept past him, her hips swishing softly, leaving a faint trace of her perfume—floral with a hint of cedar—in the air.

Lor scratched his cheek, a flush creeping up his own neck as he tried to shake off the moment.

Kiara’s smirk was immediate, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned closer, her voice a teasing whisper.

"Careful, Lor. I think your teacher wants to be your next ritual."

He nearly choked, his fingers fumbling as he stuffed books into his bag with unnecessary haste, avoiding her gaze.

"Shut up," he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward, betraying his amusement.

As he packed, his fingers brushed against something unfamiliar in his bag—a small, heavy pouch that didn’t belong there.

Curiosity piqued, he tugged it free and opened it, his breath catching as the contents gleamed in the dim light.

Silver coins, twenty of them, glinting like small moons.

His heart stuttered.

What the fuck...?

His gaze snapped up, instinctively seeking the one person in the room who could’ve left it there.

Ameth.

She sat near the back, her sleek blonde hair catching the fading sunlight like a halo, her posture as poised and unreadable as ever.

Her icy blue eyes met his for a fleeting moment, cool and impenetrable, giving nothing away.

No smile, no nod—just a glance that felt like it could cut through steel.

Then she turned away, her attention shifting to her own bag as if he were nothing more than a passing thought.