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When I finally stirred awake, the weight of exhaustion still clung to my body like chains. My vision was hazy, the lingering warmth of the night's frenzy heavy in the air. Sweat still clung to my skin, the faint scent of sex thick around the room.
The first thing I felt wasn't the sheets beneath me—it was her.
My hand was still resting on her ass. Warm, soft, and far too comfortable in my palm. My fingers had molded there as though they'd been carved to fit her curves. For a moment, I just froze, staring at my hand like it had betrayed me.
I tried to ease it away, slow and careful, not wanting to wake her. But the instant my palm lifted, her voice cut through the silence.
"…Had enough already?"
Her words were low, raspy, laced with that teasing edge that only Vera could manage after tearing me apart and leaving me half-dead with pleasure. My throat went dry.
She didn't wait for my answer. She grabbed my wrist and pressed my hand firmly back where it had been, only this time shoving it against her bare skin. No armor, no cloth, nothing to dull the sensation of her perfect ass filling my grip.
"Keep it there," she said, her smirk visible even in the dim light.
I swallowed, my body betraying me as my fingers clenched tighter, kneading instinctively. Her body shifted, slow and deliberate, and before I could even register it, she rose smoothly and swung her leg over me, straddling my waist again.
Skin on skin. Heat meeting heat.
The contact alone sent a shiver rippling through me. Her body pressed against mine with an intimacy that made every nerve in me scream for her. My chest rose and fell sharply as she leaned closer, her breasts swaying between us, so close that I had to fight not to bury my face in them.
"You think I'd let you off that easy?" she whispered, voice sharp but dripping with promise. Her hips rolled against mine, slow but deliberate, sending shocks of heat racing up my spine. "Not when I've only just gotten a taste."
My breath hitched. Every part of me screamed to give in. To let her take me again, to drown in her hunger until I couldn't move. The sight of her breasts, heavy and perfect, swaying with every subtle motion, was enough to break what little resistance I had left.
But somehow, the words tumbled out anyway. "…Shouldn't we be training?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then Vera laughed—a low, husky sound that vibrated against my chest.
"Oh, we are," she said, her hips grinding down harder, each motion grinding me further into the bed. She leaned in until her lips brushed my ear, her breath hot, her voice a sultry purr. "And you're right."
Her movements picked up, sharper, more deliberate. My hands clamped down on her hips, trying to hold on, but she only smirked down at me, her hair sticking to her damp skin.
"It does seem…" she moaned softly as her hips rolled again, "…that I'm too strong for you, rookie."
Her eyes burned into mine, daring me to defy her, to challenge her dominance. I couldn't. Not when every inch of her body screamed power and temptation in equal measure.
"Maybe," she continued between gasps, "you should train with the other knights… while I supervise."
Her grin was wicked. Her hips crashed down harder, her breasts bouncing as she rode me with growing intensity, and I couldn't tell if her words were teasing… or a command.
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When she finally slid off me, the sheets clung to her skin, damp with sweat and heat. I lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling while every nerve in my body still buzzed. My thoughts reeled.
That… that was nothing like what I'd known back in my world. Every woman I'd been with there seemed like shadows compared to this—mere whispers of desire. Vera was fire. Raw, consuming fire.
She stood, stretching like a predator after a satisfying hunt, her breasts rising high before she bent to retrieve her armor. The faint smirk still lingered on her lips, the kind of smirk that said she'd gotten exactly what she wanted—and she knew I'd crawl back for more without hesitation.
I forced myself upright, still shaky, dragging on the clothes Lyria had given me earlier. The fabric felt heavier now, clinging to skin still humming from Vera's touch.
She fastened the last piece of her armor with a sharp click, then glanced at me with that same unreadable expression—half challenge, half satisfaction.
"Don't look so dazed," she said, strapping her gauntlet. "You're going to need your head clear where we're going."
"Where's that?" I asked, adjusting my tunic, trying not to sound like my lungs were still trying to catch up.
"The training grounds." Her grin widened. "You said you wanted training, didn't you? You'll get it."
We stepped out into the open air, the castle walls towering above us, banners fluttering in the late morning breeze. The sky stretched wide and blue, but even that openness felt small compared to the weight in my chest.
Vera strode forward with the authority of someone who didn't just walk these halls—she owned them. Then she lifted her hand, summoning a faint, golden sigil that shimmered in the air. From the light burst a great bird, its feathers glowing faintly with magic.
The creature screeched once, a sharp cry that echoed through the courtyard, before landing neatly on her armored arm. She whispered something low into its ear. The bird shimmered again, then took off, wings slicing the air as it soared high and vanished beyond the castle towers.
I stared, still trying to process. "What was that?"
"Messenger falcon," Vera said casually, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It'll bring five of the knights here. If you're serious about surviving in this world, Jin—" she looked at me sharply, then smirked, "—or should I say Juno… then you're going to need to face them."
Her gaze lingered on me, steady, almost predatory again. "One by one. No excuses."
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