Amy did not flinch at her daughter's blunt response and continued speaking with an enthusiasm that didn't reach her eyes.
"He's the nice one, 'George the Curious,' remember? That's what you called him," she said, attempting to manipulate Maria's memory, "Anyway, he's very nostalgic about the time you spent together at the camp. So I thought maybe we could—"
Maria did not let her finish. The word shot out of her mouth like a bullet.
"No," was all she said, her tone utterly inflexible.
Amy forced a smile, showing controlled exasperation, "Maria, you don't even know what I was going to propose—"
Maria looked away, fixing her gaze on an uncertain spot, "I don't need to know."
Just in that moment of rising hostility, Dan intervened with an uncomfortable cough, forcing an awkward truce.
Dinner ended in tense silence.
...
Later, in the deep darkness of the night, Maria stood alone in front of her bathroom sink.
The atmosphere was one of oppressive stillness; only the slightly accelerated rhythm of her own breathing could be heard.
Just as her mind began to slide into a blur, the image of Maria reflected in the mirror slowly turned its head, and its eyes stared intently at her.
!
Maria's heart clenched in a violent spasm!
The shock was enough to fully awaken her. There was no time to think, only a surge of terror. She turned and stumbled out of that small space that now felt cold and charged.
She ran to her bedroom and threw herself onto the bed, taking deep gulps of air to force her heart to calm down.
After several minutes of trembling, doubt began to gnaw at her: Had it been stress? A momentary hallucination?
With a chill in her stomach, she slowly walked back to the bathroom.
She cautiously looked at the mirror. Her reflection was expressionless, passive, exactly where it should be.
Maria took a deep breath, trying to comfort herself.
"You're not real. It's just my imagination," she whispered to herself, seeking an anchor in reality.
But at that moment, her reflection's lips curved, accompanied by a voice that was heard with chilling clarity.
"Then why do you see me? Because I'm right here."
Maria's body trembled at the unexpected response.
Nonetheless, she forced herself to maintain composure, "Who... who are you?"
The reflection smiled and spoke with a hint of sharp resentment.
"Don't you recognize me anymore?"
Maria shook her head firmly, goosebumps raising on her arms.
"No. I don't know you."
"How convenient..." the reflection murmured, "I have always been here. I am your shadow. Where you go, I exist. When you think you look at yourself, it is you who gives me substance."
The reflection's voice grew more ethereal, almost an incorporeal whisper, as if the distance between worlds were widening. Maria visibly trembled.
"Y-you... what the hell do you want from me?"
"I can help you," the reflection replied, with a dispassionate coldness, "I can take the weight away. I know every name you want to erase, every pain you want silence. I can help you correct their mistakes."
Maria was consumed by doubt, but the promise of relief was a powerful lure.
"Why...? Why do you care about helping me?"
The reflection sank into a tense silence, unblinking. After an unsettling moment, it asked:
"Look at me. What do you see?"
Maria forced herself to concentrate on the face in the mirror.
"I see me."
"And what do you look like?"
"I... you're beautiful," Maria's voice showed a hint of hesitation.
"We are not very pretty." A low laugh was heard from the mirror.
Maria, feeling drawn by curiosity beyond her own fear, asked, "Do you... have a name?"
The reflection tilted its head, "Call me Airam."
...
The initial, evocative and melancholic melody slid onto the dance floor.
"It's been so long"
"That I haven't seen your face"
"..."
In the vibrant dimness, the atmosphere was a cauldron. It wasn't heavy metal, but an industrial-electronic fusion that thumped against the chest with a pulsing bass and martial percussion.
The darkness was broken by strobe flashes in neon tones, and the air was a dense mixture of expensive perfume, salty sweat, and the citrus aftertaste of gin.
In a raised VIP section, Leif held a glass with a single ice cube that lazily clinked against the glass.
His posture was one of almost defiant calm in the midst of the chaos.
Frank, leaning toward him to be heard above the music, gesticulated with a beer bottle: "Look, Leif! You really are the talk of the town! What you did yesterday taking down that serial killer! Forget about school, you're on every local news feed!"
Leif sipped slowly and a slight curve formed at the corner of his lips.
"It wasn't a heroic act, Frank. It was just bad luck for him."
Next to him, Jennifer had subtly slipped closer.
She wasn't "stuck" to him, but sitting at an angle that made her irresistibly close, the strobe light catching the sparkle in her smoky eyes.
She briefly rested a hand on Leif's forearm.
"Excuse his forced humility," Jennifer said, leaning close to Leif's ear to speak without shouting. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine enveloped Leif. "You saved a bunch of people from a monster. That's a thrill you don't learn in school."
The intensity in her gaze was palpable, a silent promise. She didn't lick her lips obviously; instead, she looked down at the collar of Leif's shirt and then slowly returned to his eyes, a loaded, prolonged stare that was far more potent.
Leif held her gaze for a moment.
He quickly turned his head to Frank and the other friend in the group, a mischievous spark in his eyes. He rose effortlessly, an apologetic gesture tinged with absolute certainty.
"Guys," he said, setting his glass on the table. "I have to temporarily remove myself from circulation."
Without waiting for an answer, he took Jennifer's hand and left.
...
The hotel room was draped in a dense, yellowish light, which was neither truly warm nor cold, tingeing the corners with a palpable ambiguity.
Jennifer walked across the worn carpet with the slow, deliberate cadence of a predator. She wore Leif's white shirt, too big for her. The fabric fell just to the middle of her thighs, a careless frame for incredibly long legs that seemed designed to distract.
She stopped right at the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on Leif, who was already reclining against the headboard, watching her ardently.
And a half-smile, a dangerous mix of innocence and malice, slowly spread across her lips.
With a movement that made the shirt slide slightly off her shoulder, she leaned in. She lowered her face toward his, and it was in that instant that the scent of her skin invaded Leif's personal space.
She climbed onto him with an electrifying slowness. Her hands settled, with the same deliberation, around his neck.
She approached his ear, whispering:
"It's the first time I've done something like this, you know?..."
!
Leif felt a fire ignite in his chest. All his blood rushed to his head in an instant, erasing every other thought. His arms shot up, gripping Jennifer's waist in a possessive gesture.
"Damn it, Jennifer, you're driving me crazy. Get ready for what's coming!"
His fingers didn't stay still; they found their way under the fabric, gliding over the bare skin of her lower back, tracing a path of fire.
Jennifer let out a soft "Mmmh~...", a sound barely audible but that resonated like thunder in Leif's chest.
Her warm breath brushed his jaw as the half-smile on her lips expanded, turning predatory. She moved one of her hands from Leif's neck to his hair, intertwining her fingers in the locks and gently pulling his head back to expose his throat.
"Oh, really?" Jennifer whispered, her voice husky with anticipation. "Show me how crazy you are..."
To accentuate the order, her hip moved against his groin and a faint, almost inaudible "Ah..." escaped her own lips at the contact.
That was the breaking point. Leif growled in response like a beast freed from its cage. His blue eyes fixed on hers, darkened by intention.
The tug on his hair was the final provocation.
"You wanted me to show you...?"
His hands didn't stay on her lower back. They slid down with a scorching authority, his open palms covering the full curve of her bare buttocks under the shirt.
His fingers dug into her flesh with a possessive grip that lifted her half an inch before pulling her forcefully down.
"Nn~❤️~...!!"
Jennifer's soft gasp was smothered by the contact. The rough fabric of his pants ground against her bare sex, and the hard bulge of Leif's erection pressed into her with a promising violence.
Ignoring the pull on his hair, Leif used his own strength to push himself up, breaking the angle she had created, and his mouth didn't seek her neck. He crashed against her lips.
It was an invasion. His tongue plunged into her mouth without asking permission, claiming her. But Jennifer, far from backing down, returned the kiss with the same predatory ferocity, their tongues battling, their teeth softly clashing.
It was a chaos of saliva and heat, and while his mouth kept her pinned, his free hand began to move.
While one remained grasping her buttock, keeping her pressed against his erection. The other slid along her side, under the shirt, onto the soft skin of her abdomen. Jennifer shuddered at the contact, but didn't stop the kiss. Leif's fingers crept downward, past the soft hair of her pubis, and then... he found her.
He stopped, his fingers tracing the wet folds.
She was soaked.
"Shit..." Leif murmured against her lips, his breath burning. "You were already wet for me..."
"I-it's because of you~ aahahh~❤️~...!"
He didn't need more. His index finger slid into the opening, finding pure liquid, hot silk.
"Ahhh~...!!"
Jennifer's moan was sharp and clear this time, as he, without hesitation, also pressed his thumb directly onto her swollen clitoris.
Tight. Hot. Virgin... but not for long.
"Leif... more... Slow down...!" she pleaded, her predatory façade beginning to crack.
"Slow down?" he growled. "You asked for this."
A second finger joined the first, opening her, stretching her.
"A-ah... ah... mmmh~❤️... yes...!!" The complaint turned into pleasure. Her hips, by instinct, began to move against his hand.
Leif broke the kiss, leaving her breathless, her lips swollen and wet. Jennifer was gasping, her eyes wide. But he wasn't finished. His face didn't stop.
He descended.
With one hand, he grabbed the collar of his own shirt that she was wearing and tore it to the side. The fabric didn't rip, but it opened, exposing beautiful breasts, with dark pink nipples, hard and erect from arousal.
"Fuck..." he breathed.
And then, his mouth closed over one.
"Schluurp… Schluuuurp…."
The suction was immediate and brutally strong.
"Ahahahaaaa~~❤️~❤️....!"
Jennifer's moans filled the room and her hands gripped Leif's head, pushing him to suck deeper.
It was an absolute sensory overload.
His mouth sucking her nipple with a force that sent electric bolts directly to her crotch, while his fingers moved inside her, two knuckles plunging in and out of her pussy in an obscene rhythm.
"Slp... Slp... Squelch!"
"Ahh-~❤️... yes...!! YES❤️~... THERE...!!" she screamed, pressing his head harder "MORE HARD ❤️... LIEF... DON'T STOP~...!! AHH~...!!"
And Leif didn't stop. He felt the exact moment when the tension left Jennifer's body and was replaced by a pure convulsion. Her internal muscles clenched violently around his fingers in a rhythmic spasm.
"COME!!" he roared against the skin of her breast.
Her scream broke into a sharp, sustained shriek as the orgasm hit her with the force of a train.
SPLOOSH
A hot deluge of her juices flooded his hand, streaming down his wrist. But Leif, in an act of pure sadistic dominance, did not stop. He kept sucking her nipple hard, his fingers moving relentlessly, forcing the climax, milking her, squeezing every drop of pleasure until the spasms turned into tremors and her screams were choked into broken sobs.
Finally, she collapsed onto him, a dead, breathless weight, her face buried in his shoulder, trembling with the aftershocks.
"Ha-ahh~... hahh... hahh~❤️..."
The room, suddenly silent, filled with the sound of their desperate gasps and the dripping of her sweat onto the sheets.
Slowly, Leif pulled his mouth away from her chest. The sound of her nipple leaving his lips was an obscene pop!
Then, with agonizing deliberation, he withdrew his fingers from her.
"Schlup!"
The sound was incredibly lewd, a wet vacuum that made her whimper piteously at the sensation of emptiness.
Jennifer weakly lifted her head, her hair stuck to her sweaty face, her eyes cloudy and unable to focus.
Leif raised his hand between their faces. Two fingers, coated, dripping with her thick, shining juices, glistening under the yellowish hotel light.
"Fuck," he whispered.
His eyes locked onto hers, and she couldn't look away.
She was paralyzed.
Very deliberately, Leif brought his fingers to his mouth. First, he licked his thumb, his tongue tracing a path.
Then, he sucked on his index and middle fingers, pulling them into his mouth and sucking them clean, all without blinking.
"Delicious," he growled, savoring her. "But now I want the main course."
Before Jennifer could even process the order, he grabbed her. His hands closed on her hips and he shoved her abruptly, forcing her to roll off his lap.
"Leif...!"
"On all fours," he commanded.
Stunned and weak from the orgasm, Jennifer moved clumsily onto the bed, settling onto her hands and knees.
The movement caused the white shirt to ride up completely, bunching around her waist, leaving her tanned and perfectly exposed ass to the air.
She looked over her shoulder, her predatory façade completely shattered, replaced by the yearning, terrified gaze of prey.
She heard the metallic sound of a buckle.
The coarse sound of a zipper.
Leif stood up on the bed behind her, his pants falling to his knees. Jennifer gasped.
He knelt behind her, his knees pushing her thighs apart without delicacy, forcing her into a wider stance.
And then, she felt it.
Something enormous, heavy, and hotter than hell pressed against her buttocks.
"Leif..." she whispered, her voice trembling for the first time with real panic. "W-wait... what...?"
It was too big. It wasn't possible...
Panicked, she tried to turn to look, and he let her. Pulling on her arm, she turned just enough to look down.
She choked.
It wasn't a cock. It was a weapon. A huge, thick monster, big as his arm, veined and purplish-red with blood, pulsing heavily, dripping pre-cum.
"Oh... my... God..."
Lust flared.
"Leif... t-that..." she stammered. "T-that's going... inside... me..."
...
While passion consumed that hotel room, a cold silence dominated Maria's house.
In front of the sink, with the water dripping like a slow metronome, Airam in the mirror revealed a satisfied, unsettling smile.
"We'll have it soon, Maria."
________
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