The leather of his trousers was warm and slick now, coated with her juices, the friction both torturous and exquisite. Her clit pulsed against the rough texture, each grind sending sparks of pleasure radiating through her core. Mikhailis groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding to her ass, squeezing the soft flesh through her garters as he pulled her closer, grinding harder. The wetschlick of her pussy against his trousers filled the air, a lewd counterpoint to the soft creak of the pillar and the faint hum of Rodion's servos in the distance. Her juices dripped down her thighs, a warm, sticky trail that clung to the lace of her stockings, pooling at the garter straps and leaving a faint sheen on his leather.