Claire's lips parted again, but the words that left her were softer this time, thinner, as though her willpower was straining against something stronger. "I… I need to cook first…"

The protest sounded shaky, almost half-hearted. Her breaths were already coming heavier, her chest rising and falling faster than before.

Each inhale carried with it not only the smell of sizzling meat from the pot but also the heat radiating from Damien pressed firmly against her.

Damien smirked at the sound of her wavering resistance.

Before she could steady herself, he lowered his head and planted a soft kiss on the pale skin of her neck. His lips lingered there, warm and teasing, before moving slightly as if tasting her.

Claire shivered, her body jolting lightly from the sudden intimacy.

At the same time, Damien's hands began to move.

They slid slowly upward from her waist, trailing deliberately along the curve of her body.

Claire's breath caught in her throat as his hands ascended, finally finding their way to the swell of her chest.

Without hesitation, he cupped them fully, his palms sinking into the immense softness.

Her breasts, unrestrained beneath the thin fabric of her gown, filled his hands entirely.

His fingers pressed down, sinking into the yielding flesh as though they were molded perfectly for his grip.

He gave a slow, deliberate squeeze, and Claire's lips trembled before a soft, helpless moan slipped past them.

"Nnh—"

The sound escaped before she could stop it. Her face went crimson, heat flooding her from within. Yet even as her body betrayed her, she tried to cling to what composure she had left.

"D-Damien… n-no… you have to wait… until I finish cooking… w-what we'll eat…" she whispered, the words broken, uneven.

Damien only chuckled lowly against her ear, the sound carrying a mischievous edge.

"But the food I want right now…" his voice dropped, husky and full of intent, "is you."

Her body quivered violently at that, another shiver crawling down her spine. She wanted to push him away, to insist again, but the strength in her words was slipping, piece by piece.

Damien wasn't worried about the pot in the slightest. The crude cooking method here meant everything was slow.

Even with the firewood and charcoal glowing steadily beneath, it would still take several minutes before the meat was ready. That was more than enough time for him to savor her.

His fingers tightened slightly on her breasts, giving them another firm squeeze.

He released them briefly, only to take them into his hands again, kneading them as though he couldn't get enough of their shape, their weight, their warmth.

Each motion drew another shudder from Claire's body, her lips parting wider as she tried in vain to stifle her voice.

Then, with a subtle thought, Damien activated [Lust Fingers].

A faint, tingling energy surged through his hands, and the very next moment he pressed his palms firmly against her breasts once again.

The effect was immediate. Claire gasped sharply, her back arching as a louder moan escaped her lips, far more shameless than before.

"Ahhhn—!"

It was as if his touch had transformed, each squeeze now sending ripples of pleasure coursing through her nerves. Her willpower crumbled faster beneath the onslaught.

At that exact moment, a dam inside her seemed to break.

Heat flooded between her thighs, her folds betraying her completely as a slick dampness quickly spread across her panties. The fabric clung to her, wet and sticky, evidence of her arousal she could no longer hide.

Her knees weakened, her legs trembling as though they could no longer support her.

Subconsciously, instinctively, she leaned back into Damien's chest, seeking the stability of his body.

Her breath came in ragged gasps now, each one hotter than the last, her will struggling not to simply collapse in his arms.

Damien's hands didn't slow for a second. His grip remained firm on her breasts, kneading them in slow, deliberate motions, but then one of his hands began to slide downward.

His palm drifted along the curve of her stomach, then lower, dragging over the thin fabric of her gown as though savoring every inch.

Claire's breath hitched when she felt the movement, her thighs pressing together instinctively, but Damien's hand was relentless.

His fingers slipped between her legs, prying them apart slightly as his hand pushed her gown upward. The soft fabric rode higher and higher until it bunched around her hips, leaving her panties exposed.

Then his fingers slid across her folds through the thin barrier.

The moment his touch pressed there, he immediately felt it—her heat, her wetness.

The cloth clung damply to her slit, practically soaked through, and the instant he traced over it more fluid squirted out, seeping into his hand.

Claire moaned softly, her voice trembling, the sound full of shame and desire mixed together.

"Mmnnh—" One of her hands shot forward and gripped the counter tightly, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to steady herself.

Her legs had lost their strength, her knees shaking, and the only thing keeping her from collapsing was Damien's body pressed against her back.

"S-stop…" she muttered weakly, her voice uneven, broken by heavy breathing.

But her flushed face, her quivering thighs, and the way her hips shifted slightly toward his touch betrayed every word.

Damien smirked knowingly and let out a low chuckle. He slowly lifted his hand back up, dragging it across her folds one last time before bringing it in front of her face.

Her eyes widened when she saw it—his fingers glistening with her fluids, tiny strands of her arousal stretching between them as he playfully spread them apart.

He twirled his fingers lazily, letting the wet strings catch the light as he spoke.

"It doesn't seem like you want to stop though…" His tone was smug, teasing, his voice dripping with dominance.

Claire's cheeks burned hot, her face completely scarlet now. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

She stuttered, her lips trembling, trying to form words but failing miserably.

Finally, she tore her gaze away, looking anywhere but at him, unable to meet his eyes.

Damien chuckled again, his amusement clear. His hand came down sharply and delivered a light smack to her ass.

The sound echoed in the small kitchen, and her body jolted, her thighs pressing together tightly as a fresh wave of heat shot through her.

"Just admit it," Damien said lowly, leaning close to her ear, his breath hot against her flushed skin. "You want it, don't you mom?"

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