Nora's hand trembled where it pointed, her eyes wide with disbelief. And then, almost without thinking, she rushed forward.
Her bare feet tapped lightly against the floor as she darted across the small space between them, the loose folds of her shirt fluttering with each hurried step.
The motion sent her massive breasts bouncing wildly, straining against the thin fabric of the white shirt.
They moved with a rhythm of their own—upward, downward, swaying from side to side like heavy, perfect orbs desperate to break free.
To Damien, the moment unfolded in slow motion.
His eyes locked onto that hypnotic movement, every bounce drawing his gaze deeper. Each rise and fall seemed exaggerated, slowed, as though the world had conspired to ensure he missed none of it.
The sheer weight of them, the way her nipples pressed so insistently against the thin fabric with every bounce, commanded his attention.
