The muffled sounds from inside the room—Marina's teasing, Sarah's startled gasp—sent a jolt through me, my cock hardening despite the gravity of the situation. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay rooted outside the door.
"Aaaah—!" Sarah's sharp intake of breath cut through the air.
Marina's chuckle followed, unrepentant. "I'm sorry… I just couldn't help myself."
Then—silence. No more laughter, no more protests. Just the rustle of fabric, the quiet murmur of voices too low to catch. A minute later, Marina stepped out, her expression composed but her eyes still alight with mischief. She didn't say a word, just gave me a knowing look before nodding toward the room. "She's decent."
I adjusted my jacket, hiding the evidence of my arousal, and stepped inside. Sarah sat upright on the bed, leaning against the backrest, her face carefully blank. But her eyes—red-rimmed, glassy—betrayed her. She looked like she'd been holding back tears for hours.
