It was just a distraction.
It was only a distraction.
Nicolette chanted the words in her head, even though her body told a different story.
She was hot, wet, panting like she had just run a marathon. Her cheeks burned as she removed her legs from Alaric's thighs.
His trousers were soaked with her cum, and the bulge beneath the fabric made it clear just how much tension he was holding back.
He cleared his throat and stood up.
She averted her eyes, refusing to show him the desire still burning in them. He didn't need to see that—he didn't deserve to see that.
"I… would just… sit back down," he said.
She could hear the hesitation in his tone, like he expected her to say something.
But she had nothing to offer him.
No words. No comfort.
He stood awkwardly for a couple of seconds before he got the message and returned to his seat.
Their eyes met and her blush deepened.
