CHAPTER 47: DRIPPING FOR ME

Miyu’s gaze dipped, lingering lower as though her body moved on instinct rather than thought.

Her thighs parted slowly, hesitantly at first, until the motion became deliberate... revealing the faint glisten of her arousal slipping down, catching the low light.

Eran’s eyes followed the trail, catching it fully, and his lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper that brushed against her heated skin.

"You must be even wetter than I thought, Miyu."

Her breath caught, and her reply came as a soft, shivering plea.

"Y-yes... please, Eran..."

Her voice was trembling now, stripped of all pretense.

"Make it stop... I can’t hold it much longer. It feels..."

But she broke off, thighs tightening around the heat that pulsed between them, as though bracing against the next wave of sensation.

A shiver ran through her entire body, so sudden it almost made her knees buckle.

Eran stayed perfectly still for a moment, watching, savoring every tremor, every sound she made.

Her face flushed, lips parted just slightly, and all of it only deepened the quiet satisfaction that played across his expression.

"You’re quivering," he murmured, his tone darkly amused, his gaze locked on her.

"And yet you’re still asking for me."

His faint smile grew, a quiet smirk tugging at his lips as he reached forward just enough to brush her inner thigh with the backs of his fingers, not yet touching where she needed him most.

Her entire body jerked at the lightest contact, and the sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a sob.

Eran’s smirk barely shifted as his hand finally moved lower.

The first brush of his fingers against the soaked line of her panties made Miyu jolt hard, her breath tearing out of her chest.

The fabric was already drenched, slick coating his fingertips from the first touch alone.

He didn’t say a word, just pressed down, slow and deliberate, letting the thin barrier cling to her before finally pushing it aside.

Eran didn’t rush.

His movements were painfully slow, and deliberate like he wanted every second to burn into her memory.

His hand brushed along Miyu’s bare thighs, the skin hot and slick under his touch, her arousal clinging to his fingers as he slid higher beneath her skirt.

The closer he got, the heavier the heat became, until it felt like the air itself was charged, pulsing around her soaked center.

He could feel her... the throb, the subtle pulse of her pussy as if it was breathing for him, waiting for him.

His own breath hitched.

Miyu’s body moved on its own, pressing into him as if for balance, her hands locking around his shoulders, clutching him tight.

Her violet eyes were wide, glassy, and her lips parted but wordless.

Then Eran’s palm finally cupped her fully, resting against her drenched folds.

He stayed there for a second, feeling her warmth, her wetness seeping between his fingers... before he moved.

With slow, merciless precision, his middle finger flicked up, tracing along the slick line of her clit, the touch sending a sharp jolt through her entire body.

He dragged it down slowly, savoring every inch, until he reached her entrance.

When he finally pressed in, the sound was obscene... a wet, soft plup that filled the air.

Miyu’s head fell forward against him as her back arched, a strangled moan tearing free from her throat.

Her thighs trembled and tried to close around his hand, but he didn’t let her, his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her open for him.

Her glassy violet eyes met his again, full of heat, shimmering with unshed tears from the overwhelming sensation.

Eran smiled faintly, leaning closer to her ear.

"Good girl," he whispered, tracing slow circles inside her, each one making her body jolt.

"You feel even tighter than I imagined."

Miyu’s hands clutched at the sheets behind her, her hips rising instinctively toward his touch.

But his gaze never left hers. He withdrew his hand just enough to hook a finger beneath the waistband, pulling the soaked fabric down slowly, letting it slide past her thighs until it dangled from his finger.

Then he brought it to his lips.

He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of her arousal before her wide, quivering eyes.

"You drip so much..." he murmured, tilting his head as though studying her reaction.

"...that I can almost imagine how you’ll sound when I finally help you supress the heat."

Miyu’s entire body trembled at his words, her thighs pressing together before she forced them apart again desperate.

"Eran..." her voice broke, barely a whisper.

His gaze lingered on hers for a moment too long, and with slow precision, his fingers traced over her drenched folds with slow, deliberate circles, teasing, until his middle finger sank deep into her heat once more.

He drew back just enough to make her breath hitch, then pushed in again, unrelenting.

Every movement was wet, obscene, each thrust filling the air with lewd, slick sounds.

Plup...schlk...plup.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red crescents blooming against his skin as she clung to him tighter.

Her body shook with every slow thrust.

breath coming faster, and her thighs quivering around his wrist as though they wanted to trap him inside her.

And then... her walls clamped with a sudden obscene sound as her wetness began dripping.

Eran felt it first, the sudden gush, the way her slick coated his fingers so completely they felt sticky, slippery, almost dripping too much.

Then he heard, it a faint, rhythmic sound as she dripped, like her pussy itself was breathing with each pulse, every wet release pulling more from her.

Drip...drip!...drip!

The rhythm grew louder as he quickened his pace slightly, the sound between them turning shamelessly wet and messy.

Her juices glistened all over his hand, running down his wrist.

Eran’s breath caught, the heat in his chest flaring, but he never slowed.

If anything, his smirk deepened.

"You’re fucking dripping, Miyu," he whispered, right against her ear.

Miyu let out a broken moan.

Her thighs locked even tighter, clenching around him as if she could keep him from stopping.

Each thrust of his finger made her body jolt, and every withdrawal left her chasing after his hand, desperate for him to fill her again.

Her glassy violet eyes fluttered open just enough to meet his.

Her lips trembled as if to speak, but another wet plup from his fingers stole her voice and made her gasp instead.