"Ah—!"
Sylvea stood frozen, her arms instinctively crossing over her exposed chest.
Her breasts pressed together, the movement making her nipples point outward as she tried covering herself—those pink tips already stiffening from the cool air, tiny beads of sweat tracing the curves like invitations.
Her eyes widened in shock, trembling as they locked onto Tianlong.
"I..." she stammered, face burning crimson.
Her mouth opened and closed like she wanted to speak but couldn't find the words, her tongue flicking nervously against her teeth.
Tianlong observed her reaction with mild surprise.
He'd expected resistance, maybe even anger, but this—this was pure inexperience.
The way she stood there, vulnerable and flustered, reminded him of those men who got embarrassed removing their shirts in front of women.
The ones who didn't have confidence in their bodies.
Her skin flushed hot under his gaze, the faint outline of veins pulsing along her collarbone.
