Chapter 105: "Positive Response Detected"

Without a word, Isidore leaned in once more.

His lips found Aren’s again, but this time he was the one who initiated the slow, deliberate pull.

Isidore had always excelled at learning through observation.

He prided himself on it.

His mouth repeated the precise movements she had shown him only moments before, capturing her lower lip between his own and drawing on it with measured care.

One gentle pull after another coaxed her lips apart, almost involuntarily. The instant he sensed the opening, he followed it.

Tentatively at first.

Then with growing confidence.

Venturing.

Exploring.

Retaliating.

The sudden change caught Aren completely off guard.

His movements remained slightly rigid, driven more by careful imitation than natural instinct. And yet, there was an unmistakable intensity behind them.

A relentless determination to master whatever she placed before him.

A tiny sound escaped her before she could stop it.

"Mm..."

She was supposed to be the one guiding the lesson. Now, she felt warmth steadily creeping across her cheeks under his increasingly confident assault.

Isidore couldn’t have missed that small, wordless sound.

It wasn’t language.

But it was feedback.

And feedback, to him, was data.

’Positive response detected.’

’Continue.’

More exploratory kisses pressed against her lips, yet one variable kept disrupting his focus.

His hands.

They remained awkwardly planted against the sofa cushions, rigid and purposeless while the rest of him worked.

He considered placing them on her waist.

’What if that tickles her?’

He considered her hips.

’Would that be too invasive?’

Entirely unwilling to make even a minor error, he reluctantly broke the kiss, drawing back just enough to take a quiet breath.

"Signorina."

Aren looked at him, still slightly dazed.

"...Yes?"

His calm eyes searched hers.

"Where am I supposed to place my hands?"

Surprise crossed Aren’s face.

"...Ah."

Her gaze immediately dropped to the hands still lying flat against the sofa.

A gentle smile softened her features.

Gently, she took both of them into her own and guided them toward the place where Caio had always held her.

"You can place them on my hips," she said quietly, settling his palms there.

Her fingers adjusted his larger hands until they rested comfortably against the curve of her body.

"Here... like this."

Isidore offered no resistance, allowing her to arrange him however she deemed appropriate.

Once satisfied with the placement, his fingers curled experimentally around her hips.

"Hm."

’Very soft.’

His gaze drifted upward.

Higher.

Until it settled upon the full curves of her breasts, now nearly level with his eyes in her current position.

"What about here?" he asked evenly.

His tone held no trace of embarrassment, only genuine academic curiosity.

Aren followed his gaze downward.

"Ah..."

A deeper blush spread instantly across her cheeks.

’That is... very intimate...’

She hesitated.

Yet the more she thought about it, the more another memory surfaced.

Whenever Caio had kissed her... his hands almost always found their way there. In fact, he had always seemed remarkably fond of touching her breasts.

After weighing the thought with complete seriousness, she gave the smallest nod.

"There... you can touch me there too."

Permission granted, Isidore waited no more.

Carefully, he lifted both hands until his palms settled against the soft weight of her breasts.

Long fingers spread slowly across the unfamiliar curves, giving them the slightest squeeze.

’Even softer.’

His hands began to explore, gently kneading the fullness of her breasts while his fingers traced their natural shape with unmistakable curiosity.

The subtle pressure coaxed another quiet sound from Aren.

"Mm... hmm..."

Gradually, heat continued to bloom across her face.

She found herself staring at his hands, watching every deliberate movement as though she, too, were studying the lesson.

Isidore noticed that blush easily.

He squeezed again, slightly firmer this time, before lifting his gaze to hers expectantly.

"Am I doing it correctly?"

Aren could only answer in increasingly breathless fragments.

"Mmm..."

She leaned closer until her forehead rested lightly against his.

"Master Accardi..."

Another moan slipped free.

"...Yes... that feels... very good."

Not a single change in her escaped his notice. He catalogued every alteration in her breathing, every tiny hitch in her voice, every subtle shift in her expression.

’The subject is responding... exceptionally well.’

Convinced he had reached the correct technique, his confidence grew.

His hands became bolder, kneading her breasts more firmly as he leaned forward once more to capture her lips.

Eventually, something else caught his attention.

The soft flesh beneath his hands had changed. Near the center of each breast, beneath both her dress and her bra, something had noticeably firmed.

His fingers paused there for a moment.

’Interesting.’

’Her nipples are becoming harder.’

The observation sparked immediate curiosity.

Carefully, his fingertips found the sensitive peaks through the layers of fabric.

’What happens if I... try this?’

He gently rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger before giving it the slightest tug.

The instant he did, Aren reacted sharply.

"Ah—!"

The sudden sound made Isidore pull back slightly.

"What is it?"

Yet even as he asked, his thumb continued to circle slowly over her nipple, unwilling to interrupt the experiment before gathering sufficient data.

The continued stimulation made it even harder for Aren to speak.

"Mmm... Ah—"

She gasped softly against his lips.

"...Master Accardi. Don’t... don’t touch my nipples like that."

The faintest crease appeared between his brows.

"Why not?"

His voice remained perfectly logical.

"It appears to me that you’re responding rather favorably."

Aren had become thoroughly flustered.

She was supposed to be the instructor.

The guide.

The one maintaining control.

Instead, every careful movement of his hands against her breasts unraveled another thread of her composure.

"Mmm... well..." she mumbled breathlessly. "It’s... it’s..."

Isidore reached the conclusion himself.

"So it does feel good."

His gaze lowered to the outline of her hardened nipples beneath the fabric.

"Especially when I do this."

He deliberately rolled one nipple between his fingers again.

A sharp pulse of pleasure swept through Aren’s body, making her thighs tremble where they rested against his lap.

Instinctively, both her hands tightened around his shoulders.

She tried to steady herself, biting down on her own lower lip to trap another helpless moan.

"Mm... h-hm..."

Isidore noticed that immediately — the way she bit her lip to silence herself.

He had no intention of allowing it.

"Don’t bite," his voice was strangely soft. "Open your mouth for me."