Suddenly, the Tower Manager embraced him gently.
Their bodies touched. Soft. Warm. Dangerous.
Nathan froze—completely unable to process what was happening.
She let go, then shifted her position, pressing his right shoulder into her breasts.
Once again, Nathan tried to protest—but was shut down by her movements.
Her left leg lifted, aligning with his navel, before lowering and bending—forming a triangle that trapped his cock from the side, right behind her knee.
The pressure was light—but enough to send blood rushing to both of his heads.
She smiled.
"Are you suffering… because your lust is being strangled by your dusty morals?"
She stroked his hair with her right hand, then gently pulsed the grip of her thigh before releasing him with a light giggle.
Standing before him again, she slowly reached for Nathan's right hand, lifting it as if he were a bastard prince late to realize he wasn't the hero of the story.
