Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 30: Teasing her rosebud

Chapter 30: Teasing her rosebud

Without hesitation, they made a beeline for the shower, shedding their clothes along the way.

Syrla’s gown pooled on the floor like spilled ink, and Alex tossed his shirt and pants onto the bed, leaving them both bare as they stepped into the tiled enclosure.

Once inside, Syrla wasted no time.

She pressed herself against him, her lips finding his in a hungry kiss.

Her hands roamed his chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle still taut from their earlier play.

Alex returned the kiss for a moment, his lips firm against hers, tasting the salt of her skin.

Then he pulled back, breaking the contact with a soft chuckle, his breath warm against her cheek.

Syrla reached around him, her arm brushing his side as she twisted the shower knob.

A rush of water cascaded from the showerhead, cool at first, then warming as it doused them both.

Rivulets streamed down their bodies, tracing paths over Alex’s broad shoulders and Syrla’s lithe frame.

The water plastered her dark hair to her neck, accentuating the elegant curve of her collarbone.

"Hmm," Alex sighed softly, tilting his head back into the spray.

He relished the sensation, the coolness soaking into his heated skin, washing away the sweat and tension of the night.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the water worked its magic.

That sigh seemed to spur Syrla on.

She closed the distance again, pressing her body flush against his.

The warmth of her skin contrasted with the cool water, her curves molding to his frame. "We’re playing a dangerous game here, you know?" she murmured, her voice low and husky. "They might come home any time now."

Her fingers gripped his shoulder, nails digging in slightly as she spoke.

Alex’s smile widened, a glint of recklessness in his eyes.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, his hand sliding down to palm one of her buttcheeks. "We’d be in trouble if they found us like this, wouldn’t we?" he said, his tone teasing but laced with a thrill at the thought.

"Big trouble," Syrla purred, her lips brushing his ear.

Her breath was hot against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine despite the warmth of the shower.

She shifted closer, her body a tantalizing press of soft flesh against his.

"Then we need to just shower and leave here quickly," Alex said, though his actions belied his words.

As he spoke, his hand slipped lower, fingers gliding between her cheeks.

His pinky teased her rosebud, a light, deliberate touch that sent a tremor of pleasure rippling through her.

The sensation pooled in her core, igniting a fresh wave of heat and wetness that the shower couldn’t wash away.

"Oh," Syrla moaned, her voice catching as her body responded.

The sound was soft but laden with desire, her knees weakening slightly under the sudden spark.

She leaned into him, her grip on his shoulder tightening for support.

"I couldn’t hear you. Were you saying something?" Alex asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

He tilted his head, water streaming down his face as he grinned at her, clearly enjoying the effect he had.

"Don’t be smart," Syrla shot back, rolling her eyes.

The gesture took effort, her focus fraying under the teasing pressure of his finger.

She reached for the soap with a shaky hand, determined to regain some control.

Lathering it between her palms, she turned her attention to his hair, massaging the suds into his scalp.

Her fingers worked in slow, deliberate circles, washing away the grime while his pinky continued its maddening dance against her rosebud.

As Syrla reached to spread the soap from his hair downward, Alex’s finger pressed into her rosebud, the sudden intrusion catching her off guard.

She gasped sharply, her hands freezing mid-motion as a jolt of surprise shot through her.

She’d never had anyone, or anything, explore that part of her before, and the initial sensation teetered between discomfort and shock.

But as the moment stretched, the unfamiliar pressure morphed into something unexpected: a warm, thrilling pleasure that bloomed deep within her.

Her breath hitched, her body softening into the feeling.

Alex’s second hand slid up her wet skin, finding one of her breasts.

He began to fondle it gently, his fingers kneading the soft flesh as water streamed over them.

The dual sensations, his finger resting inside her rosebud and his hand teasing her chest, sent a shiver racing down her spine.

He kept his finger still for a moment, letting her adjust to the newness of it, his touch patient but deliberate.

Syrla’s eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting as she leaned into him, surrendering to the strange, intoxicating mix of sensations.

When he sensed she’d acclimated, Alex began to move, sliding his finger in and out of her rosebud with slow, measured strokes.

He relished the way her tight walls gripped him, the heat and resistance fueling his own arousal. "Oohh," she moaned softly, the sound escaping her in a breathy whisper.

Her earlier intention of lathering his face with soap slipped away, forgotten in the haze of pleasure.

She pressed herself closer, her body molding to his under the shower’s cascade, her moans growing louder as he continued fingering her other hole.

But Alex decided not to push further, not yet.

He wanted to ease her into this new territory, and the shower, with its fleeting intimacy, didn’t feel like the right time for more.

With a gentle nudge, he withdrew his finger and guided her to stand upright.

Syrla blinked, her golden eyes hazy with lingering desire as she steadied herself against him.

He grabbed the soap from her slack hand and began lathering her body, his hands gliding over her curves with care.

The suds foamed under his touch, coating her skin in a slick, citrus-scented layer that mingled with the steam filling the air.

By the time he finished, Syrla had regained her composure, her breaths evening out.

She took the soap from him with a playful smirk, her fingers brushing his as she began to cover his body in return.

Her hands moved with purpose, tracing the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, and the taut lines of his arms.

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