Silence lingered in the small room like a heavy veil. Cindy's gaze sank to the floor as though she could disappear into the wood, while mine remained fixed on her, watching her body shift with nervous, fidgeting movements.
Finally, I broke it. My voice came out low, carrying a careful edge.
"You need to be stabilized, Cinderella?"
Her head gave a quick shake, hair brushing her cheeks as she whispered, "T…That's fine. Elena insisted, but you're the one who's injured."
"I'm fine." My tone sharpened just slightly. "But you should tell me sooner when you need stabilizing. Waiting too long is dangerous. It's better to do it early, before it becomes a problem."
Her lips parted as though she might protest, then closed again. She nodded faintly, almost childlike. "R…right."
That tiny voice stirred something protective in me, but alongside it, a memory rose unbidden—the kiss from that morning. Sweet, sudden, and trembling with an emotion she hadn't put into words.
I cleared my throat softly. "Do you want to sit for a moment?" My palm patted the bed beside me.
Cindy hesitated, then shuffled toward me, each step as hesitant as if she were stepping into water she wasn't sure of. She sat, posture stiff, but close enough for the warmth of her body to press against mine through the night air.
"Cinderella," I murmured, turning toward her. "If you need to talk to me about anything… you can. You know that, right? I may not have been around much lately, but that doesn't mean I've been avoiding you." My throat tightened a little as I recalled Rachel's voice telling me Rebecca thought I stayed outside all day scavenging because I didn't want to be near them.
Her eyes flickered up to mine briefly. "I know… And I'm not upset. Not really."
I nodded slowly, then took a breath and asked the thing pressing most heavily on my mind. "That kiss. This morning. Can you tell me what it was about?"
Her cheeks bloomed pink as she ducked her head. "T…that's… Forget about it. I lost control. When you gave me that necklace, you were so kind to me… comforted me… and I just got overwhelmed. It's not your fault."
Relief eased the tight coil in my chest. But I still knew what she'd been through, how hard Christopher's absence had bitten into her, leaving wounds deeper than she let on. I'd done what I could, and maybe it had been enough to keep her standing.
I reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "It's fine. You know I'm responsible for you now. Since I infected you with Dullahan, stabilization is my duty. Don't hesitate to ask when you need me. Not forcing you—but earlier is always better."
It came out awkward, because what I was really offering wasn't just help—it was sex. Every stabilization was a joining of bodies, and she knew it, and I knew it.
Her eyes lifted to mine then, luminous and unflinching despite her blush. "I know… then, can you stabilize me now?"
A throb of heat stirred in my gut at her directness. I straightened. "Of course. Just tell me when you're ready—mentally, I mean."
But she caught my wrist before I could move away, her grip firm despite the tremble in her fingers. "I'm… ready."
Her cheeks burned scarlet, yet she didn't look away. She met my eyes, fragile but determined.
"Alright." My voice dropped, almost husky. "Then lay back."
She slipped off her slippers and crawled further onto the bed, her nightdress whispering around her thighs. For a moment I swore she'd sprayed perfume—something soft, floral, almost intoxicating—but maybe it was just her, freshly washed, skin still carrying the warm scent of soap.
I climbed onto the mattress, crawling toward her until my hand rested lightly on the smooth pale skin of her leg. She shivered, but her gaze didn't flinch. This time, she wanted to see.
"You don't have to watch," I murmured, fingers tracing up her calf.
Her lips curved faintly, nervous but insistent. "It's fine… I want to."
That alone surprised me. The last times she had turned away, staring at ceilings, walls, anywhere but at me. Now her eyes followed every movement of my hand as it roamed slowly up the delicate arch of her shin, fingers slipping under the hem of her nightdress until I reached the tender curve of her knee. I paused there, letting my palm rest, feeling the faint quiver of her muscles.
Then I bent, pressing a soft kiss against the smoothness of her skin. Her breath hitched audibly, shoulders jerking faintly.
Stabilization or not, duty or not, I would not rush. No woman deserved to be touched without care, without preparation. A body had to soften, to heat, to wet itself before it opened willingly. My routine was slow, delicate, designed to make her melt.
I kissed higher, lingering, letting my lips and tongue taste the warm skin above her knee, while my fingers traced lazy patterns lower down her leg. Cindy gasped, a small broken sound, and I felt her thigh tense beneath my touch.
"H…Haa…"
I looked up at her face. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, breaths unsteady. She was already trembling—not with fear, but with a rush of need she hadn't allowed herself before.
I smiled faintly, my lips brushing her inner thigh now. "Relax… let yourself feel it."
Her answer came not in words but in a shaky whimper, "Hmmhh… haaah…" as her back arched ever so slightly.
I let my hands push the hem of her nightdress higher, revealing more of her pale thighs, kissing them, tasting the faint salt of her skin. Each sound she made vibrated through me, stirring my own arousal stronger, heavier.
Her breath grew ragged as I spread her legs wider, inch by inch, kissing the path upward.
And I did not stop.
Her body tensed beneath me, breath spilling in ragged bursts, every exhale quickening as though she were climbing some invisible slope she didn't yet understand. My lips trailed higher, kissing with care until my face brushed against the hem of her nightdress. She clutched the bed sheet so tightly her knuckles whitened, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm, soft "hahh… ahhh…" sounds breaking free despite her attempt to keep them swallowed.
I let my hand find the fabric and began sliding it slowly down, inch by inch, baring the smooth white of her thighs to the air. The cloth whispered against her skin, revealing more, and when the dress finally pooled at her hips, my breath caught. She hadn't worn anything beneath. No panties, no barrier. Just her bare sex waiting, glistening faintly already, a sweet feminine musk curling into the air between us.
For a heartbeat I stared, then a hot thought struck through me—she had come prepared. She had known.
Cindy's face burned crimson, but she didn't close her legs. She lay trembling, watching my every move, biting her lip as though afraid she might make too much noise.
My palms pressed against the softness of her inner thighs, spreading them apart just a little wider. The warmth of her skin pulsed under my hands, and I felt her quiver in response, a sharp little gasp breaking from her throat.
"Haaa—R…Ryan…" she breathed, barely audible.
I smiled faintly despite myself, eyes flicking up to hers, then down again to the prize she offered so vulnerably. My finger brushed her folds delicately, feather-light, sliding along the slick seam without penetrating. The reaction was immediate: her hips jerked upward, breath catching in a stuttering moan.
"Nnnhhh! Aahh—!"
I continued, unhurried, tracing lazy circles, stroking upward and down, teasing the sensitive nub without committing. Each touch wrung another sound from her lips, every gasp sharper than the last, her thighs twitching helplessly as if trying to close, then opening wider, craving more.
Her pussy was already wet enough that my fingertip glided easily, glistening under the dim light. I lifted it once, showing her the sheen, before lowering again to press just a little firmer, enough to make her back arch off the bed.
"Ry…an… ahhh—hahhh!" She cried, gripping the sheet so tightly the fabric strained, her body twisting as though she didn't know whether to escape or grind herself against my hand.
I let her writhe for a moment, then bent down, my breath ghosting across her bare sex. The heat of her core radiated against my lips, the scent stronger now, intoxicating.
She looked down at me with wide, trembling eyes, and before she could speak, I pressed my mouth to her.
Her scream of shock melted into a moan of pure pleasure. "Nnnnghhhhh—haaaaaan!"
I licked her slowly at first, dragging my tongue from bottom to top, savoring the taste of her arousal. She jerked violently, both hands shooting to my hair, clutching as though she might lose herself completely.
"Ryaaaan—ohhh, ohhh please—ahhhh, lick me, please—mmmhh!"
It was impossible to resist such a moaning request.
Her voice cracked on the plea, her hips tilting instinctively, grinding against my mouth. Her pussy opened further, juices coating my tongue as I circled her clit, sucked lightly, then licked harder.
"Ahhhhhh! Hahhh—hahhhhnn! Yesss, ohhh god, yesss!"
She was gasping my name now without thought, lips smiling faintly through the haze of pleasure, body moving on instinct alone, hips rocking against me, closing in tight as though trying to trap me there. Her thighs trembled around my head, squeezing, but I kept devouring her, tongue flicking, pressing, sucking, giving her no escape from the rising storm.
Her moans turned to desperate cries, nails tugging at my hair, her voice breaking.
"Ryannnn—mmmhhh! Ohhh, ohhh god, don't stop—don't stop!"
I didn't. I licked harder, sucked more firmly, my fingers pressing her thighs wider as she thrashed beneath me, drowning in the pleasure that wracked her body.
Her taste coated my tongue, sweet and heady, each moan feeding my hunger to push her further. Her hips bucked wildly now, grinding against my face, her cries sharp and broken.
And she smiled through it all, smiling through the storm of pleasure, hips closing tightly as though she couldn't bear to let me go.
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