I still had no clue what snapped in her head and pushed her to do this—but I definitely wasn't complaining. If anything, I was grateful.
Ayane had been on my radar for a long time, but getting her to notice me was like trying to tame a storm. It took a year for her to even warm up to me—well, partially. Tonight, though, she'd dropped the distance between us in one bold, dangerous move.
Her hips were carved like sculpture. It was perfectly defined and her breasts were full and heavy in a way that looked both soft and stubbornly firm. The scent she gave off—her natural musk mixed with whatever perfume she wore—rose up my nose and seeped into my head. It invaded my thoughts and made everything around me blur. My pulse sped, heat pooled low in my gut, and I could feel my cock hardening, pressing insistently against my trousers. The sensation was delicious, bordering on cruel, and I wanted more.
"Master Leon…" she murmured, voice thin and urgent.
