"I said back off, Elena!" Alex growled, trying to sound menacing. But the Empress's influence twisted his anger.
His glare lacked intimidation; instead, with his flushed cheeks, wet eyes, and panting breath, he just looked petulant.
And surprisingly arousal-inducing.
"Make me, he-hee…" she teased back again with a teasing smile, leaning down.
She was taller than him by a good three inches, and she used it to loom over him. "You act tough, but your body is shaking. And this..."
She ground her knee upward, deliberately rubbing against his sensitive cock.
"Ah—!" The moan slipped out before Alex could bite his tongue.
His knees buckled, and he had to grab her tank top to stay standing.
The friction was excruciatingly good.
The enhanced sensitivity from the Naagin bloodline turned every brush of fabric into a live wire.
"See?" Elena smirked, her face inches from his. "Your mouth says 'go away,' but your little dick here says 'please, Elena, touch me more.'"
"Fuck you," Alex hissed, his face burning with shame. "I'm not your toy! I'm a man!"
"Are you?" She whispered, her gaze dropping to his chest again.
Her hand moved up, and she brazenly pinched his left nipple through the thin grey t-shirt.
It wasn't a playful pinch. It was firm, possessive.
A bolt of white-hot pleasure shot through Alex's chest, making his back arch off the wall.
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
It felt like his nipples were connected directly to his prostate.
"Stop it!" Alex yelled, panic finally overriding the pleasure.
He was losing control and he could feel his body was betraying him, reshaping itself into something designed to take cock, not be one.
He felt small. Vulnerable. Breedable.
The thought made him furious.
"I said..." Alex looked up, his black eyes flashing with genuine rage. He wanted to dominate her, to force her to submit, to stop looking at him like a piece of meat.
"Use it," the Empress whispered. Deep inside his pupils, a vertical slit formed for a split second. Golden light flooded his irises.
[Skill Activated: Feral Gaze]
"STOP!" Alex commanded, staring directly into Elena's eyes.
The effect was instant.
Elena's smirk vanished.
Her pupils dilated until her eyes were almost entirely black.
The sharp, predatory intelligence in her face dissolved, replaced by a blank, drooling devotion.
She didn't step back. She didn't apologize.
Instead, a heavy, guttural moan escaped her throat.
The pheromones Alex was releasing spiked, and combined with the stunning effect of the Gaze, it short-circuited her brain.
"Beautiful..." she breathed, her voice trembling.
She grabbed Alex's face with both hands, her grip desperate, almost bruising.
"What the fuck Elena?" Alex froze, the gold fading from his eyes as the skill deactivated on its own. "Hey, snap out of it!"
But she was too far gone.
The [Feral Gaze] had stunned her logic, leaving only the raw, biological drive that the Naagin bloodline amplified.
"Mine," she growled.
She slammed him back against the wall, hard enough to knock the wind out of him, and crashed her lips onto his.
It wasn't a kiss. It was an assault as her tongue invaded his mouth, hot and aggressive, tasting of mint and sweat.
She kissed him like she wanted to inhale him.
At the same time, her hand dove straight down the front of his pants, her calloused fingers wrapping around his sensitive, rock-hard shaft.
"Mmph!" Alex's eyes went wide. The sensation of her rough hand on his mutating, ultra-sensitive skin over his dick was overwhelming.
His brain went white for a second.
It was too much. His body, currently rewriting itself to be the ultimate vessel for pleasure, wasn't built to handle this kind of direct stimulation anymore.
It was oversensitive. Raw.
He felt her thumb rub over the head of his cock through the gap in his boxers, and his hips bucked forward involuntarily, seeking more friction.
He hated it. He hated how small he felt in her arms. He hated the way a high-pitched whimper started to build in his throat, a sound no man should make.
Stop, he screamed internally, his face burning with humiliation. "I'm her cousin! I'm a guy! Why does this feel so good? Why am I wet?"
"So big..." Elena mumbled against his lips, her hand pumping him slowly, rhythmically. "But you're shaking on your own. Do you like this? Does it make you feel good?"
Alex tried to bite her lip to make her stop, but his jaw was slack with pleasure.
He was seconds away from humiliating himself completely, his knees trembling so hard they were knocking together.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Heavy boots hit the wooden stairs. The entire hallway shook with the vibrations.
"Alex! Elena! Stop screwing around up there! We got an order for thirty spearheads!"
Uncle John's gruff voice boomed up the stairwell like a cannon shot.
The sound shattered the atmosphere like glass.
Elena gasped, her eyes snapping wide open.
The black haze of the [Feral Gaze] evaporated instantly, replaced by sheer panic.
She jerked her hand out of his pants as if she'd grabbed a hot iron.
She shoved Alex back, hard.
"Oof!" Alex slammed into the wall again, sliding down a few inches, his chest heaving.
They stood there for a split second, frozen.
The silence was deafening, broken only by their ragged breathing.
A thick strand of saliva still connected their lips, glistening in the morning light before it finally broke and fell onto Alex's shirt.
Elena stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She looked at her hand—the one that had just been stroking him—then back at his face. Her cheeks flushed a deep, violent crimson.
"I... I..." She stammered, looking completely bewildered. "What the hell just..."
She looked down at Alex's crotch.
His pants were unbuttoned, his zipper half-down, and the tent in his grey sweatpants was painfully obvious.
A dark wet spot was already seeping through the fabric of his boxers.
"Fix your pants," she hissed, her voice trembling. She spun around, bracing her hands on her knees, trying to compose herself. "Just... fix it!"
"I'm trying!" Alex whispered furiously, his hands shaking so bad he couldn't grip the zipper. "You're the one who—"
"Don't!" Elena snapped, not looking back. "Don't say a word. I don't know what happened. I just... I lost my head."
"Hey! You two deaf?"
Uncle John's heavy head poked up from the stairwell.
He was a bear of a man, covered in soot even this early in the morning, with a thick beard and arms like tree trunks.
He squinted at them.
"What's going on?" John asked, eyeing the tension.
Elena straightened up immediately, snapping into her soldier mode. "Nothing, Dad. Just... waking Alex up. He was sleeping like a log."
John grunted, looking at Alex.
Alex quickly crossed his arms over his chest to hide his nipples, which were still throbbing and hard enough to cut glass, and shifted his weight to hide his erection.
"You look flushed, kid," John noted, frowning. "You sick? You were out in that rain all night."
"I'm fine," Alex managed to squeak out. He cleared his throat, trying to drop his voice lower. "I'm fine, Uncle John. Just... woke up sweaty."
"Hmph. Well, get dressed. Breakfast is on the table, then I need you on the bellows. Marcus is already useless today."
John thumped back down the stairs.