Yuna moved first.
Her body trembled as she rolled onto her hands and knees, the mattress dipping beneath her. Her hair fell around her face in dark curtains as she crawled forward—slow, hesitant, every instinct screaming at her to stop while something deeper and more primal pushed her forward.
She reached the edge of the bed.
And there it was.
His cock hung at eye level. Semi-hard and still devastating—coated in the remnants of everything he'd done to the women lying scattered around this room. The girth alone made her breath catch. Her hand reached out automatically, fingers wrapping around the shaft.
Her fingertips didn't touch.
Not even close.
"Oh god," she whispered.
Her pussy clenched involuntarily. Her body leaked—not from arousal alone but from something like fear, like staring over the edge of a cliff and feeling the pull of the drop. She swallowed hard, tongue darting out against her lower lip.
