The translation of the text to English is:
He reached for the hem of her sweatpants and pulled them down slowly, along with her underwear, in one fluid motion. Nola lifted her hips to help him. Now she was completely naked, lying exposed, shivering from anticipation and the cool night air.
Nathan knelt between her legs, his eyes sweeping over her entire body. "Perfect," he repeated, as if it were the only word he knew.
He didn't immediately satisfy the most obvious desire. Instead, his hands reached for her ankles. He massaged the soles of her feet with his thumbs, an unexpected and deeply intimate touch. Nola sighed in relief, the tension in her body easing slightly.
He continued to massage, moving up to her calves, then to her thighs. Every touch was designed to heighten sensitivity, to awaken every nerve. As his hands neared her core, he could feel the heat radiating from her, see her restlessness.
"I want to feel you," Nola whispered, her voice husky. "Please, Nathan. Don't make me wait any longer."
Nathan finally relented. He lowered himself between her parted legs. But again, he took his time. He kissed her inner thighs, nipping gently, making her gasp. He moved closer and closer, his breath warming her most sensitive skin.
And then, finally, his tongue touched her.
It wasn't just any touch. It was an art. The Level 2 system gave him inhuman precision and stamina. His tongue explored every fold, every crevice, finding spots that even Nola herself didn't know existed. He used the tip, the flat surface, even controlled little bites, in a rhythm that made Nola see stars.
Nola could no longer speak. She babbled, her moans growing louder and more uncontrolled. Her hands gripped Nathan's hair, urging him deeper, but Nathan was in control. He sped up, slowed down, changed the pressure, driving her wild.
"I... I'm going to..." she gasped, her body tensing like a bow.
But Nathan pulled away, abruptly.
"Don't," he growled, looking at her with fiery eyes. "Not yet."
Nola groaned in frustration, almost crying. "Why? Please!"
"Because," Nathan said, rising above her and quickly stripping off his own clothes, revealing his muscular body and the mighty shaft that made Nola gasp, "I want you to come for me when I'm inside you."
He didn't let her wait any longer. With one smooth motion, he entered her.
Nola screamed, a long scream filled with fullness, relief, and almost painful pleasure. Nathan was still for a moment, letting her adjust, savoring the feeling of her warm, tight embrace.
Then he began to move.
This wasn't intercourse; it was a symphony. Every thrust was calculated, every angle designed to touch her deepest core. His hands weren't idle; they massaged her breasts, gripped her hips, caressed her face. His mouth found hers in a deep, passionate kiss.
"Look at me," Nathan growled between kisses. "I want to see your eyes when you come."
Nola opened her eyes, glazed with desire, and looked into his intense gaze. She saw confidence, lust, and something else—something dark and powerful that aroused her even further.
Nathan's rhythm changed, becoming deeper, stronger. His stamina boost made him seem like a tireless machine. Nola screamed, any pretense of coquettishness she had shown to Boy completely gone; she was utterly wild, primal, and lost in pleasure.
"Yes! Yes! Like that! Don't stop! Nathan!"
She was a hysterical worshiper, and Nathan was a cruel and generous god.
Nathan felt his own climax approaching, but he held it back. He wanted to make sure Nola got there first. He reached deeper, changed his angle slightly, and—
Nola screamed, an ear-splitting scream. Her body convulsed uncontrollably, shivering, and her intense contractions triggered Nathan. With a deep, triumphant groan, he reached his peak, filling her with heat, marking his territory, taking what Boy had coveted.
They remained connected for a few moments, their breaths ragged, sweat making their bodies glisten.
And it was at that moment that a shadow fell across the window.
A man, his face pale and distorted by the glass and rage, was looking in. It was Boy.
He had followed Nathan, his heart filled with anger and suspicion. He heard the moans coming from inside the apartment, and his suspicious soul knew immediately. With a pounding heart, he climbed the pipe next to the window and peeked inside.
What he saw froze his blood.
On the bed, lying on the disheveled sheets, was Nola. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed in ecstasy, her body glistening with sweat. And on top of her, thrusting deeply, was Nathan. The man he had just humiliated, the man he thought he had defeated.
Nathan's face, which he saw in profile, showed no love or tenderness. It showed the intense concentration of a hunter who had cornered his prey.
A cruel, cold smile of satisfaction flickered across his lips as he heard Nola scream his name, not Boy's.
Boy felt like he had been punched in the gut. A wave of nausea washed over him. Nola. The woman he had lusted after, the woman he had courted so diligently, the woman he had bought expensive gifts for with Lisa's money—Nathan's money—and whom he hadn't even touched yet. And now, she was lying naked and writhing beneath the miner, giving herself to him completely.
He saw the way Nathan held her, kissed her, dominated her completely. It was the ultimate humiliation. His defeat wasn't just financial or romantic; now it was deeply physical, deeply primal.
He almost screamed, almost burst in and ripped Nathan off of Nola's body. But his legs were weak. He could only lean against the wall, gasping for breath, listening to the increasingly frenzied sighs and moans from within, a sound that would haunt his dreams forever.
Inside, Nathan knew. The system informed him. [Alert: Rival target (Boy) detected on location. Monitoring from outside the window.]
A satisfaction deeper than any orgasm coursed through Nathan. He tilted his head, just slightly, and for a brief moment, his cold, triumphant eyes met Boy's horrified, despairing gaze from beyond the window.
Nathan didn't stop his movements. Instead, he smiled—a cold, challenging, and utterly victorious smile—directly at Boy, before turning his face back to Nola and increasing his rhythm, as if to say, Look at this. She's mine now.
Boy felt the world spin. He slid to the ground, outside the window, listening to the sounds of his enemy making love to the woman of his dreams, feeling more broken and betrayed than he had ever imagined possible. Karma had come, and it had come with Nathan's face and the sound of Nola's moans.
Nathan wasn't just reaching a peak; he was scaling a mountain of pleasure with Nola, and every ascent, every slope, was mastered with system-given precision.
Even though he was aware of Boy's presence outside the window, it only served as an added spice, an extra flavor of absolute victory.
Every moan of Nola's, every grip of her nails on his back, was a direct slap in the face to the helpless Boy outside.
He slowed his rhythm, not because he was tired—the Stamina Boost +30% made him feel like he was just getting started—but to prolong Boy's suffering. Every slow, deep thrust, every dirty whisper in Nola's ear that made her scream, was a deliberate torment for the voyeur.
"You're mine now," he growled in Nola's ear, his voice husky, while making sure the words were clearly audible to anyone near the window. "No one else's."
Nola, lost in the vortex of sensation, could only nod helplessly, moaning, "Yours! Only yours, Nathan!"
This scene, coupled with Nathan's occasional triumphant glances at the window, finally broke Boy.
The sound of muffled, hysterical sobbing and a body sliding to the floor could be heard faintly.
Nathan smiled, a cold, satisfied smile. Only then did he allow himself—and Nola—to reach a shattering climax, a final declaration of his dominance.