Chapter 89: Wet and Wild
The cave-like space opened into something way bigger than a simple hole in the rocks. Ancient stone columns lined a path that hadn’t seen humans in forever. Water dripped from the ceiling, making little pools that caught the light from Grace’s glowy sword thing.
"This is incredible," Petriel whispered, her voice bouncing off the walls. "Look at these carvings."
Grace tried to look at the carvings.
She really did. But Petriel had bent over to check out the stonework, and her ass was right there, perfectly outlined by her damp robes.
[Focus, Grace. Ancient water temple. Tide’s Tear. Not Petriel’s perfect, round butt that I could bounce a coin off of.]
... But Grace’s eyes kept drifting back.
Her Love attribute was messing with her brain. It had to be. She’d always liked women—even back when she was just a turnip farmer with dirt under her nails—but this was different. This was "I want to push you against that wall and make you scream my name" desire rather than "oh, she’s pretty" appreciation.
She wasn’t used to it.
"I-I think these symbols represent an ancient water cult," Petriel continued, completely unaware that Grace was mentally undressing her. "They believed the ocean was a living entity long before we knew about The Tide."
"Yeah, yeah, that’s... that’s fascinating," Grace said, not hearing a single word. She was too busy watching a droplet of water roll down Petriel’s spine and disappear into her crack.
Grace’s fingers twitched at her sides. When had touching Petriel become all she could think about? Last week she’d been too shy to even make eye contact with Venus during "morale training." Now she was fantasizing about bending a Sister of Compassion over in the middle of a sacred temple.