Chapter 182: Let’s Go To The Bed, Senior Espel
Chapter 182: Let’s Go To The Bed, Senior Espel
Lancet stood from the armchair and crossed the distance between them. Espel watched him approach with that same analytical stillness, her head tilted just slightly, as if she were observing a specimen rather than a man about to kiss her.
She didn’t back away when he stopped in front of her, close enough that he could smell the faint, clean scent of her skin — like cool water and something floral, maybe butterflies.
"You need to relax," he said quietly. "You’re stiff as a board."
"I am not stiff," she replied, looking very stiff. "I am prepared."
"Prepared and relaxed are two different things." He reached up, slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, and brushed a strand of pink-shaded hair behind her ear. Her skin was cool. "When was the last time someone touched you? And I don’t mean like in a fight. I mean romantically or even just with affection."
Espel’s brow furrowed. "I don’t recall."
"That’s what I thought." His hand settled gently on the side of her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. She didn’t flinch, but her eyes tracked the movement with intense focus, as though she were memorizing the sensation for later study.
"Close your eyes," Lancet said.
"Why?"
"Because if you watch me the whole time like I’m about to perform a dissection, I’m going to feel very self-conscious."
"But you’ve done this before."
"Yeah. And all the time I’ve done it, eyes were closed. It’s just how it’s done."
Espel looked at him for a beat of silence, as though she was considering it. Then, she closed her eyes.
Lancet took a breath and leaned in. He pressed his lips to hers — softly, gently, trying mostly to test how she would react to it. Her mouth was warm despite the coolness of her skin, and completely still, like she was waiting for instructions.
He pulled back to speak. "You shouldn’t be motionless when kissing."
Espel’s brows creased a bit. "I shouldn’t?"
"Yeah. You move with it. Respond."
"How?"
"Copy what I do. Or do what feels natural."
"Nothing about this feels natural."
He almost laughed. "Fair. Try anyway."
He kissed her again, this time with a little more pressure, his lips parting slightly against hers. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, hesitantly, he felt her mouth move; it was this small, uncertain press back, like she was testing the mechanics of it.
"Good," he murmured against her lips.
Her breath hitched. She felt a little nervous that he had pointed that out.
But Lancet didn’t relent, he deepened the kiss, angling his head, his hand sliding up from her jaw into her hair. She made a small sound — not quite a gasp, not quite a hum — and her fingers came up to grip his shirt at the sides.
She was holding on to him, like she needed an anchor.
When he finally pulled back, her eyes fluttered open. They were clear, calm, but there was something new in them. It looked like she’d just been introduced to something that she’d never experienced before.
"That was..." she started.
Lancet shrugged a bit. "Good? Bad? Confusing?"
"Different." She touched her own lips with her fingertips, as if checking that they were still there. "I felt... warmth. In my chest. And my stomach."
"That’s a good sign."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. It means your body is paying attention though I’d guess your mind is busy taking notes."
She looked at him for a long moment, then said, quite seriously, "I would like to do it again."
Lancet smiled. "I thought you might."
---
They kissed for a long time after that.
Lancet guided her through it patiently — tilting her chin up, showing her how to part her lips, how to breathe through her nose when the kiss deepened. She was a quick study, her analytical mind cataloging every adjustment and improvement.
But there were moments when she stopped thinking, when her body took over and she pressed into him without conscious direction, and those moments made Lancet’s pulse quicken in ways he hadn’t expected.
Espel was learning really fast. Her lips pressed firmly against his as confidence surged through her. What began as tentative exploration quickly evolved into bold, hungry movements. She captured his lower lip with her mouth, sucking gently, causing Lancet to groan a bit in pleasure.
When he finally pulled back, both of them breathing a little heavier, Espel’s cheeks were flushed a shade of pink he’d never seen on her before.
"Your face is red," she observed.
"So is yours."
She touched her cheek. "It’s hot."
"That’s blood flow. It happens when you’re aroused."
"Aroused." She tested the word, turning a little defensive and curious. "You think I’m aroused?"
Lancet raised a brow. "Well you’re bound to be. You’re about to have sex. You have to be aroused to have sex."
She thought about it a little, her lips thinning. "Maybe I am. I understand the dictionary meaning of the word, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like."
"You’re feeling it right now," he replied. "The warmth, the quick heartbeat, the way you want to keep kissing me even though logically you’ve already learned the mechanics."
Espel was quiet for a moment. Surprisingly, she didn’t contest that. She just asked, very softly, "Is this joy?"
Lancet’s chest tightened, his eyes studying her. "It might be. Or the start of it."
She looked down at her hands, then back up at him. "Then let’s explore further. I want more."
Lancet led out a breath. "Let’s go to the bed, Senior Espel."
The sheets were crisp and white, well spread and smelled like lavender. Espel sat on the edge while Lancet knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her knees.
"I’m going to take your clothes off now," he said. "Tell me if you want to stop at any point."
"I won’t want to stop."
"You don’t know that. You’ve never done this before."
She considered this. "You’re right. I will tell you if I want to stop."
He worked slowly on the lace of her tunic, right above her breasts. He loosened them, one by one, exposing the smooth column of her throat, the delicate line of her collarbone, the glistening curve of her cleavage.
Espel watched his hands with the same intense focus she gave everything, but her breathing had changed. It had gotten shallower, quicker.
"I think my heart rate increased," she noted.
"That’s normal," Lancet answered. "We’re both anxious. Excited."
"Is it always this way or will I get used to it?"
Lancet looked up at her and smiled. "It’s always this way."
He carefully pulled the sleeves off the tunic down her shoulders and let it fall on her waist. For a moment he just looked at her.
Her shoulders were incredibly feminine, not a single muscle in sight, and her collarbone curved sharply, blending to her incredibly full, ample breasts. Some strands of her dark hair covered her nipples.
Lancet wanted to pull them out of the way, but he thought that was a bit overenthusiastic.
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