Chapter 487 | The Dual-Stream Stack

Chapter 487: 487 | The Dual-Stream Stack

I worked Belle through her first peak with my mouth alone, no abilities, no graft tricks, just tongue and patience and the specific knowledge of her body that six weeks of extraction sessions and stolen nights had burned into my muscle memory.

She came with both hands fisted in the sheets and her spine lifted off the mattress at an angle that would have concerned a chiropractor, her thighs clamping around my head hard enough that my ears rang for three seconds afterward. Milk sprayed from both nipples in twin arcs that caught the city light and turned into liquid gold before landing on the white cotton in spreading wet patches.

I gave her thirty seconds to breathe, then crawled up her body and sealed my mouth around her left breast.

The butterscotch hit my tongue and I swallowed greedily, each mouthful registering as twenty-five points that I felt rather than read, the counter in my peripheral climbing in small steady increments.

Belle’s hand found my hair again and she pushed my face harder into her chest, her back arching to offer more, her body responding with the conditioned eagerness of a woman whose nervous system had learned that Jace Monroe’s mouth meant pleasure was coming whether she was ready or not.

"You’re not done," she said. Her voice was sandpaper and honey. "You promised worship. One orgasm is not worship, Monroe, one orgasm is a handshake."

I released her nipple with a wet pop and looked up at her face. The city light threw half of it into shadow and left the other half glowing.

Her blue hair stuck to her cheek where tears had left tracks she would deny tomorrow. Her amber-brown eyes were enormous and wild and completely open in a way I’d never seen from Belle Fox in any context that involved clothing.

"I know," I said. "I’m just refueling."

"Refueling. You’re drinking my milk and you’re calling it refueling."

"Would you prefer I call it communion?"

Belle stared at me for two full seconds before laughing, a real laugh that broke the tension in her shoulders and made her whole face change from survival mode to something younger and less armored.

She pulled me up by the jaw and kissed me with her own milk still on my lips, her tongue sliding into my mouth to taste herself, and the sound she made when the butterscotch hit her own palette was worth more than every point the System had ever awarded me.

I activated Sensory Hijack on touch. Bronze rank. Dual stream. Every point of contact between my skin and hers doubled in intensity, the sheets beneath her becoming silk that burned where it brushed her back, my fingertips becoming electrical current wherever they traveled across her ribs and stomach and the soft inner curve of her thighs.

Belle’s laugh dissolved into a gasp and then into something that had no name in English.

I slid two fingers inside her while my thumb found her clit and began the slow circling pattern I’d mapped across four sessions and one night in a hotel in Oakdale where Jordan slept in the next room and the walls were made of paper. Belle’s hips rolled upward to meet my hand, her body chasing the rhythm I set, her mouth open against my throat where she bit down and then licked the mark in apology.

I increased the Euphoric Feedback to level eight.

The combined effect of touch amplification and pleasure transmission made Belle’s entire body clench around my fingers like a vise. Her legs drew up and her heels dug into the mattress.

Her hands abandoned my hair and gripped the headboard behind her, the wood creaking under the force. The city lights flickered against the windows and I realized the Sanctum was responding to the resonance field, the environment itself reflecting the intensity building inside the woman beneath me.

"Jace." My first name. Not Monroe. Not Milk Man. Not Sir Sucks-a-Lot. Jace. She only used it when the walls came all the way down. "Jace, I need you inside me. Right now. Not in a minute. Not after you finish whatever optimization you’re running in your head. Now."

I withdrew my fingers and she made a bereft sound that I stored in the vault of things I would remember on my deathbed, which at current rates of lifespan depletion could be Tuesday. I removed my shorts and positioned myself between her legs. Belle looked down between us and her pupils blew so wide that the amber disappeared into black.

"Still not used to it," she muttered.

"I’ve been told I’m a grower."

"You’ve been told by me. I said it. Don’t pretend other women gave you that compliment, I will literally check the group chat."

I pushed inside her slowly. The first inch made her head tip back and her throat work around a swallow. The second made her legs spread wider to accommodate what was coming.

By the time I was fully seated, Belle’s breath had gone shallow and her hands had abandoned the headboard to grip my shoulders, her nails finding the scratch marks Addison had left earlier and pressing into the grooves hard enough that I felt the sting through the Euphoric Feedback’s pleasure conversion.

I pulled back and drove forward. Belle’s whole body rocked up the bed, her breasts bouncing with the impact, milk scattering in bright droplets across the white sheets and my chest and the air between us. The sound she made was nothing she would have tolerated from herself in any other context.

This was the sound Belle Fox kept hidden under sarcasm and stolen shirts and her chicken-salad-is-a-legitimate-sandwich arguments. The sound of someone being thoroughly, comprehensively, religiously fucked.

I set a pace designed to build without peaking, long strokes that buried me to the hilt before pulling back until only the tip remained inside her. Each thrust pushed milk from her breasts in time with the motion, twin streams that caught the penthouse lights and ran in warm rivers down her sides onto sheets that had already surrendered any pretense of staying white.

I lowered my mouth to her right nipple and drank while I fucked her, the butterscotch flavor intensifying with her arousal, growing sweeter and hotter as her body climbed toward its second peak.