"Fine..."
Relief flooded through me so powerfully I nearly staggered.
Thank God.
I'd done it.
I'd convinced her.
Now I could cure her, save her life, get both sisters to safety.
With a shared breath of relief, I straightened up, feeling the cold sweat slide down my spine beneath the loose fabric of my shirt.
"Then let's not waste time," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, clipped. "Your sister will be checking on us soon. Let's end it before she comes back."
But the truth writhed inside me like a living thing. I wasn't just racing her return—I was racing the clock inside Rachel's trembling body. The sickness already curled under her skin like smoke waiting to ignite. If I didn't do this now, if she transformed before I—before we—
"Get on the bed," I told her, stripping off my black T-shirt in one smooth motion. The cotton peeled away from my skin. I tossed it to the floor, quickly slid the knife I'd kept nearby under the edge of the dresser. There was no place for it now. Just us. My hand shook for a moment, but I forced my fingers steady, let the instinct to move take over thought.
Rachel obeyed, slow, halting. She climbed onto the bed like it wasn't hers, like the mattress was unfamiliar territory, her eyes low, avoiding mine. She gripped her own arm tight, fingers white around the flesh, holding herself together with whatever threadbare control she had left.
She wouldn't even look at me.
But we didn't have the luxury of gentleness, not now.
"Raise your arms," I said.
She hesitated only a breath, then lifted them slowly.
I stepped close, the heat of her presence already brushing against my skin. My fingers hooked the hem of her black pullover, lifting it, the fabric rising like smoke. Inch by inch her body revealed itself beneath my hands. Her stomach was pale and lean, smooth skin rising with each breath she held in, tense. Then, with one firm pull, the pullover slid over her head, baring her chest.
I gulped.
Her breasts, full and high, were restrained by a white bra that barely managed the job—soft flesh pushing against the fabric's edge like a held breath. D-cup at least, maybe more. I found myself staring. My mouth felt dry. The flush crept up my neck before I forced myself to move again, tossing the shirt aside like it was something incriminating.
But then she moved—crossing her arms over her chest, shielding herself again, her eyes still downcast.
This wasn't going anywhere. Not like this. Not with her recoiling like I was a stranger.
I couldn't touch her unless she gave it. Not fully. Not without her wanting it—even if it was only out of necessity.
"Rachel," I called her with a colder tone. "We're wasting time. You know what's happening inside you. You can feel it, right? If you transform and bite me, it's over for both of us. And what will happen to your sister then?"
That got her. She flinched, eyes tightening. A tremor passed through her, then stilled.
"I'm asking you again. Cooperate. Let's do this. I swear to you she'll be safe. I have a car waiting underground. We leave right after."
Silence.
Then—slowly, Rachel lifted her chin. Her eyes met mine at last. Wide, uncertain, but open.
"So let's have sex, okay?"
A beat. Her lips parted. "Yes…" She whispered, this time with something different in her tone—not eagerness, not quite—but acceptance.
She lowered her arms, exposing herself. No longer hiding. Her chest rose and fell more quickly now, breath shallower.
I knelt onto the bed without looking away from her, my hands moving with care, not haste this time. I took her right leg gently, removed her shoe, then the left, laying them to the side, every touch meant to say: you're still in control.
Then I reached for her pants, fingers brushing the waistband, unhooking the small buttons that held them closed. I looked up—she nodded slightly, biting her lower lip, cheeks flushed dark with heat and nerves.
I slid the pants down slowly, watching her legs move automatically to help me, her thighs parting slightly, involuntarily accommodating the shift. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath my fingertips, the muscles in her thighs clenching subtly as she let the pants fall away.
I took a second just to look at her.
Rachel sat on her own bed, clad only in white cotton bra and panties. Her hips curved generously from her small waist, and her thighs—thick, powerful, beautiful—spread slightly as she adjusted her position, not fully aware of how devastating the movement was. Her stomach trembled with each breath. She looked—
She looked like a woman who should've had the world watching her. She had that glow, like a screen goddess, something both distant and unknowable, but here she was—nervous, exposed, breathing fast as I undressed her.
I swallowed the surge of hunger that rose like a tide and told myself to stay focused. This wasn't for me. It wasn't for pleasure. This was a cure.
But fuck… she was gorgeous.
"Remove your panties," I managed to keep my voice cool.
She froze for a moment. Her body tensed again—but she obeyed. Her hands moved slowly to the waistband of her underwear. She lifted her hips slightly, peeled the fabric down, inch by inch, over her hips, her thighs. I helped her slide it past her knees and down one leg, then the other. She dropped it beside the bed, exhaling shakily.
Immediately, her hand snapped between her legs, covering her slit, eyes wide with residual shame.
A reflex. A woman used to being seen but never touched.
"Rachel," I called again.
She hesitated. Her hand, the last barrier between her and me, slipped away slowly—fingers trembling as she moved them aside. But her face was still turned, cheeks flushed with mortified red, jaw clenched so tight I could see the tension in her neck.
Her gaze didn't meet mine. Her teeth sank into her lower lip like she was trying to bite back not words, but feeling.
And then I saw her.
My mouth parted, heart thudding.
Rachel's pussy was beautiful—not like Emily's, no, this was a new terrain entirely. Delicate folds just beginning to glisten with arousal, soft pink flesh beneath a small patch of curls that crowned the top, like a deliberate flourish of natural grace. Slightly parted, not from invitation, but from exposure. Vulnerability painted across every inch of her.
My cock twitched, hard and eager, as if responding before my thoughts could even form. Just the sight of her—bare, unguarded—was enough to make me ache.
"Lie on the bed," I told her quickly, before I lost the fragile thread of control holding me together.
Rachel obeyed without a word, her movements awkward but cooperative. She leaned back, lowering herself onto the bed, her legs dangling off the edge, toes still barely touching the floor. I watched her legs tremble—slight, but constant—as she stared fixedly out the window, away from me, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
This was it.
I unbuttoned my pants and slid them down, briefs following with one smooth movement. My cock sprang free, already hard, already throbbing with need. The air between us changed, thick with scent, with heat, with the inevitable.
She didn't look. She couldn't. Her eyes were locked somewhere outside, far away from the room, from me, from what was about to happen.
It had to be fast—I had to cum inside her. That was the cure. That's all this was supposed to be.
I stepped between her legs, parting her thighs gently, lowering myself until the head of my cock pressed softly against her slit. Warm. Silky. A gasp caught in my throat. She twitched—her hips shifted slightly.
"Ughn…" She whimpered. A small sound, but full of meaning.
Then I pressed forward, slow but certain, trying to slide into her.
"Umnh!!" Her cry was louder this time—sharp, startled, raw pain in her voice as her body resisted the intrusion.
I stopped immediately, frozen.
"Wait a minute…" I looked at her face—eyes squeezed shut, arm thrown over her eyes like a shield. "You're a virgin?" I asked aloud, unable to keep the shock from my voice.
She didn't answer. Just nodded faintly, arm still hiding her face.
Fuck.
This wasn't what I expected. Not at all. I clenched my fists at my sides, my cock still poised at her entrance but now pulsing with a mix of guilt and frustrated heat.
If I forced myself in now, I'd tear her. I'd hurt her. And I couldn't do that. Not to Rachel.
I lowered myself slowly, moving away from her sex and down, wrapping my arms around her thighs. She stiffened, breath catching. Then I spread her legs just a little wider and lowered my head, pressing my face between them.
"Hii!" She cried, voice startled, high-pitched with shock and disbelief.
Her body jerked up from the mattress, and she lifted her head, wide eyes looking down at me with absolute confusion.
"I have to get you relaxed or this will be painful," I murmured, my breath brushing her most sensitive places. "We can't have sex like this, Rachel."
More like I didn't want to have sex like this hurting her more than necessary.
"W—what…" She gasped, eyes darting.
"Relax," I said again, but with ordering tone so she would obey me.
She stared at me for another second, lips parted in stunned silence, before slowly lying back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her hands clutching the sheets in a death grip.
That was my cue.
I dipped forward and pressed my lips to her folds, kissing her pussy. Her scent filled my head, sweet and slightly musky, intoxicating. My tongue slid out, parting her gently, running a long, slow stripe from bottom to top.
"Mnn!" Rachel whimpered, head rolling to the side, thighs trembling in my grasp.
I gripped her tighter, anchoring her, licking again, this time more firmly, more intentions. Each movement coaxed her open, bit by bit, until her breathing began to change—no longer quick and nervous, but slower, deeper, flushed with something new.
I flicked my tongue around her slit, teasing the entrance, circling it, coaxing arousal to bloom from nerves.
"Hnn… ahh… ohnnn~" Rachel's voice broke into soft moans, her teeth sinking into her lip again, trying to stifle the sound but failing. Her thighs kept twitching, shivering in my arms, as I explored her with my mouth.
I could feel her getting wetter. My tongue dipped lower, nudging into her, savoring the slick heat. She gasped, hips lifting slightly against my face, reflexive, needy.
Then I found her clit.
A small swollen nub, slightly hidden, but so sensitive under the barest touch.
I gave it a soft lick.
"Hghna!" She cried, the loudest yet, her entire body arching off the bed.
Her legs slammed shut around my head, thighs pressing tight as her hands scrabbled at the sheets. I didn't stop. I licked again, slower this time, circling the swollen pearl with the flat of my tongue, then flicking it gently.
"Ohnn… ahnnn… ah—ah—mmmnnn!!" Rachel's voice spilled out in bursts of uncontrolled pleasure now, no longer trying to hide it. Her hips rocked forward, fucking herself against my face without meaning to.
She was so close. Her body was flushed, glowing, trembling beneath my tongue. Her breaths were little whimpers now, her muscles tense and ready to snap.
But I didn't want her to come yet.
Not without me inside her.
I pulled back slowly, licking my lips, breath ragged.
Rachel lay there panting, eyes glazed, mouth open, her whole body buzzing with the aftermath of near-orgasm. Her pussy glistened, soaked, trembling.
Now she was ready.