"Pull down your pants."
Velira's voice was calm, her smile unreadable.
"What?!" Eren blinked, caught off guard as she stepped closer.
Without another word, she lifted her foot, tucked her toes into his waistband, and whispered again, "Slide them down." The soft tug of her foot was enough — his pants slid down.
Eren turned his head aside, face flushed, as his dong sprang forth — proud, veined, and throbbing in its full glory.
Velira's eyes widened — first in shock, then in quiet contemplation.
"Why is it like this?" she asked softly, but Eren remained silent.
With a curious glint in her eyes, she used her toes to push it gently side to side, then placed her foot on it lightly.
"Again—why is it like this?" she repeated, firmer this time.
Eren muffled his breath, body stiff, willpower stretched to its limits.
She flicked it with her toes. It barely flinched. Still rock solid.
"I've kidnapped a few men," she murmured, tone oddly casual. "Not something to brag about, but... even they never stood like this." Her toes clutched the swollen head, pressing into the sensitive skin. "I only saw it like this... when they did it with other women at the camp."
She slid the already taut skin down, exposing more of the flushed glans. "Then why are you like this?"
No answer. Just the sound of Eren's breath — shaky, restrained.
Velira slowly knelt down, face level with his shaft, examining it with a predator's curiosity. Her fingertips glided along the length, tracing every thick vein, every twitching pulse, until they cupped the base of his sac.
"It's... better looking than the ones I saw." Her voice was almost analytical as she weighed his sac in her palm. "If I remember correctly... they did it like this."
She curled her fingers gently around his shaft and began to stroke. Once. Twice.
Each slow stroke sent a jolt through Eren's nerves. His jaw clenched as her fingers tightened, one hand exploring the sac while the other guided rhythmic glides along his length.
Every slow stroke sent shivers down Eren's spine, nerves flaring like sparks. Velira cradled his sac in her palm, fingers gently shifting the weight, as her gaze burned a hole through the shaft she rhythmically stroked — focused, and intense.
With each motion — especially when the side of her finger brushed the sensitive underside of his glans — Eren's mind flickered into white static. He clenched his teeth, summoning every ounce of restraint he had left after the beast battle.
Last night, Mira's relentless teasing had already pushed him past his limits — to the edge of collapse, to stargazing bliss.
And now—this... this was too much.
"Velira..." he gasped. She looked up at him past the length she gripped and stroked, her other hand cupping his sac with deliberate pressure.
"Can we... st—" he started.
Her cold, unblinking glare stopped the words in his throat.
"After we clean up?" he quickly rephrased.
Velira didn't answer. Instead, her fingers tightened—first around the base of his sac, drawing a muffled grunt from him—then slowly coiling around the glans with ruthless precision.
His thoughts turned to static, but one stubborn thread of reason remained. I need a plan. Eren's mind raced through every tactic, memory, and instinct he had—then, like a spark in the dark, an idea flared to life.
"Velira... wait. I have a better idea."
"What?" Her eyes narrowed, gaze locking onto his, past the fingers still coiled around his shaft.
Yes, he thought. This will work.
"Move," he said carefully. Her grip didn't loosen. "Let me show you… Shift your hips, this way. Keep facing me."
Velira's expression tensed, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. She didn't move.
"Shift your hips onto me, while staying forward... that way, we'll both enjoy it."
"Why?" she asked flatly, her stare unblinking.
Eren hesitated. "Why? Wouldn't it feel better for you… while I lick you?"
Still, she didn't move. Her grip tightened on his sac, the unspoken question hanging thick in the air.
"Are you playing me for a fool?" she asked sharply.
"No! No—never!" Eren's mind raced, words pouring out in a rush. "If at any point it feels like that... you can crush me between your thighs."
Velira stayed still for a moment, her gaze unreadable, silently weighing his offer. Then — as if silently accepting — she rose from Eren's legs. Her expression didn't change; it remained as cool and distant as ever.
She stepped forward, eyes never leaving his, and slowly lowered herself — settling her warm, dripping pussy right onto his face. As she leaned forward toward her new favorite toy, her hips gently pressed down, seating herself fully.
Eren, meanwhile, remained unwavering — even as the sweet, damp scent of her arousal surrounded him.
He had only one thought:Finish her before she finishes me.
She was already teasing the tip of his shaft, her tongue lazily circling, tasting, savoring. But Eren didn't hesitate.
He opened his mouth wide, taking her in completely, and thrust his tongue deep into her entrance.
Velira jolted — her entire spine arched like a bowstring. A sudden cry escaped her lips as she instinctively tried to lift her hips, but Eren's left arm wrapped tightly around her pelvis, holding her in place.
His face pressed deeper between her thighs.
And his tongue pushed further in.
She yelped sharply, her voice echoing through the quiet forest as moans spilled past her lips.
"Wha—" Her breath caught, words breaking apart as Eren's tongue shifted — tracing the upper wall of her slick passage with focused precision.
Her hips bucked violently, trying to escape the overwhelming sensation, but in the end, she gave up — slamming herself down fully onto his face. Her thighs clamped tightly around his head, as if terrified he might slip away.
But Eren didn't.
He read her movements like a map, her body giving away more than her voice ever could. Releasing his grip on her thighs, he slid his fingers upward, exploring her from the outside — carefully searching, feeling every tremor, every twitch.
Then she jerked again, harder this time. Her inner walls clenched around his tongue.
That was the sign.
Eren locked onto it — his fingers found her clit, swollen and pulsing. He pinched it, not too hard, but just enough, while his tongue dove deeper, curling upward, stroking her from within.
Velira cried out again, her grip tightening around his head, legs trembling.
One more push… and she's done. Eren thought, his breathing calm, focus razor-sharp.
She began grinding against him instinctively, riding his mouth with short, desperate thrusts. Eren moved with her, guiding her rhythm with his lips, his tongue stroking her inner walls while his fingers worked her clit in perfect sync.
He searched — up, around, deeper — and then, suddenly, he felt it.
A small, ridged patch. Bumpier, slightly firmer.
That's the spot.
That small, bumpy, ridged patch—he found it again.
As Eren's tongue pressed against it, Velira jolted violently, her entire body convulsing. Her thighs clamped around his head with such force he thought they might crush his skull.
But he didn't stop.
He saw it in her—the tension in her body, the tremble in her core. She was right at the edge. One more move and she'd be a goner.
Eren's tongue flicked upward again, carefully tracing that sensitive zone. Then, like a hunter striking his mark, he drew back—and drove his tongue hard against it with precise, unrelenting pressure.
Velira's fingers dug into his thighs, and her legs locked tight around his head, holding him in place as she shattered.
She came with a violent cry, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of release poured out of her—wet, hot, coating his face. She grinded into him, riding every ounce of release, as if forcing him to taste every drop.
Her breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling as she slumped forward, still sitting on his face.
Eren tapped her thigh gently. She shifted, slowly sliding off to the side.
He finally inhaled a lungful of fresh air, the heat of her scent still lingering thick around him.
That should've done it, he thought, eyes fluttering shut, a breath of relief escaping his lips.
But Velira wasn't finished.
Not by a long shot.
As he lay catching his breath, she was already repositioning—rising to her knees, her soaked folds hovering over his length, slick with desire, her juices dripping freely like an open tap.