Chapter 132 (Fixed)

Ray didn’t last.

His whole body locked, a raw sound ripping out of him as he came hard, shooting up his own stomach and chest in thick stripes. The second pulse jumped higher. Almost hit his mouth. Almost painted his face. He jerked back too late, breath wrecked, cock still twitching in the wet space between her feet while the shower washed some of it down in cloudy streaks.

Milady burst out laughing.

Not cute. Not shy. That villain laugh, bright and nasty, like she’d been waiting for the exact mess.

"Oh my god. You shot yourself." She kept her feet on him, squeezing through the last pulses. "Look at you. Came up your own chest like an amateur. Almost got your face too. That’s art."

Ray’s head dropped forward. "Shut... shut up."

"No." She laughed again, delighted. "That was pathetic. You sat there talking like a player and then painted your own nipples. Say thank you."

"I’m not saying that."

"You almost ate it. That’s worse." Her eyes were shining. "I should’ve aimed you better. Next time I’m making you catch it."

Ray swallowed, still shaking. "There isn’t a next time."

Milady’s thumb pressed the head of his cock, slow, rubbing the oversensitive slit like she owned the leftover twitch. Ray hissed and tried to pull back. She didn’t let the moment die.

"Liar. Your cock’s still jumping." She stroked the head in little circles, soap and cum mixing under her thumb. "This thing doesn’t get to act proud after that finish. You came like you were surprised you had a body."

"Milady—"

"What? Too much?" She dragged her thumb over the head again, mean and curious. "You were moaning from my feet. Now you’re twitching from one finger. Pick a personality."

Ray clenched his teeth. "You’re evil."

"Yes." Her other hand dropped and scratched lightly over his balls, nails just enough to make his thighs jump. Not pain exactly. A nasty little rake that sent aftershocks through him. "These too. Tight. Cute. They pulled up the second you were about to blow. I felt it."

"Stop touching—"

She scratched again, slower, rolling them while her thumb kept teasing the head. "Why? You already finished on yourself. Shame’s late."

Ray’s voice came out wrecked. "Because it feels too much."

"That’s the point." Milady grinned like a bad ending. "You wanted a new experience. You got one. A short girl with small tits made you nut on your own chest in a bathroom. That’s your night."

He looked at her through the steam, chest marked, cock still in her hand, balls under her nails. "You’re enjoying this way too much."

"I am." No hesitation. She flicked the head once with her thumb and laughed when he flinched. "My favorite dog made a mess and still can’t admit he liked the leash."

Ray exhaled hard. "Fine. It felt good. Happy?"

Milady’s smile went sharper.

"Happier when you said it." She gave his balls one last scratch, almost affectionate if affection could bite. "Don’t wipe yet. Sit there. Look at what you did. I want you to remember who made you shoot that high."

Milady shifted on the wet tile and spread her legs.

Just like that. Open. No speech first. Water running down her skinny stomach, over the small split of her, dripping off the chair edge. Short frame, small tits flushed from the heat, thighs parted like the next order had already been decided.

Ray stared. "What?"

Milady lifted her chin, arrogant on purpose, even with her face going red.

"My pussy. You’re licking it." She said it like rent. Like a rule. "Don’t sit there dripping on yourself looking stupid. You got yours. Now work."

The mockery was there. The smile was there. But her ears were pink and her eyes weren’t as steady as her mouth. She wanted it. She just wanted to look like she was doing him a favor.

Ray’s breath came out slow. The mess on his chest was still cooling. His cock was oversensitive and useless for a minute. His head wasn’t.

Alright. Your turn.

He moved off the seat and down between her legs, water hitting his back, hands sliding up those skinny thighs. Milady watched him like she expected obedience. Ray watched her like he’d been waiting for an opening.

"You sure you can talk like that with your face that red?" he muttered.

"Lick." Her voice stayed sharp. "Don’t analyze me."

Ray leaned in anyway, close enough that she had to feel his breath first. He wanted revenge in the only way that would stick. Not a slap. Not a comeback. He wanted her pussy remembering him. Wanted her arrogant mouth to break while she tried to keep the matriarch act standing.

He kissed the inside of her thigh once, then again, delaying on purpose.

Milady’s fingers twitched. "Ray."

"I heard you." He looked up at her from between her legs, steam on his face. "You want it licked. I’ll lick it. But I’m not doing this cute. I’m making sure this thing doesn’t forget what I feel like."

Her blush got worse. She still scoffed.

"Big words for a guy who just came on himself."

Ray didn’t argue. He dragged his tongue through her, slow and flat, tasting heat and shower water and the way her whole body flinched like she hadn’t planned for him to be good at it. Then he did it again, deeper, locking in on the spot that made her skinny hips jump.

Milady’s arrogance cracked on the inhale.

Ray smiled against her.

Yeah. That. He was going to ruin her on purpose. Stay there until her legs shook. Until that red face couldn’t hide behind orders. Until her pussy clenched around nothing and still looked for him after. He wanted the memory sitting in her the next time she tried to call him a dog.

Ray didn’t give a single shit about being gentle. He yanked Milady’s skinny thighs further apart, digging into her wet skin hard enough to leave faint red marks. His tongue went to work way rougher now, slathering her wet and hammering her sensitive spot with a relentless rhythm, not giving her a damn second to catch her breath.