Chapter 97: After the job
Kiara a touch too stiff, her cheeks still faintly flushed.
Lor too wide-eyed, his hands gripping his knees a little too tightly.
But Mira said nothing.
She walked in, crouched gracefully, and set the tray down between them—two delicate plates.
One with slices of fluffy cake, the other stacked with golden cookies, the scent of sugar and vanilla flooding the room, mingling with the fading musk of their earlier acts.
She moved to the window next, pushing it open wider with a practiced flick, letting a rush of cool evening air sweep in, dispersing the sticky heat still clinging to the room, the wind chimes outside tinkling softly.
Kiara didn’t move, her icy blue eyes fixed on the tray, her thighs pressed together under her skirt, her pussy still pulsing faintly, betraying her calm facade.
Lor’s cock gave one final twitch, hidden beneath his pants, the memory of her taste, her moans, her slick heat still burning in his mind.
The warm air from the open window did little to cool the tension in the room, the soft scent of cinnamon and butter wafting up from the cookies and cake on the tray, their sugary promise clashing with the musky undertone still lingering from Lor and Kiara’s earlier indulgence.
Neither dared reach for the snacks, their bodies tense, as if the tray itself were a silent judge.
Mira, instead of leaving like they silently prayed she would, smoothed her skirt and sat cross-legged on the wooden floor beside them, her plump figure settling with a casual grace, humming softly as if joining a cozy study circle.
"So," she began cheerfully, folding her hands in her lap, her long black hair catching the golden light like a halo, "where are your notebooks? Or the writing tablets? I assume you’re practicing math, right?"