Gon's Harem System
Chapter 180: In his room 3(18+)

Chapter 180: In his room 3(18+)

The cot creaked as Lena sank back, her shirt already discarded, the rough fabric a crumpled heap on the floor.

Gon knelt over her, his tunic gone too, the moonlight slicing through the narrow window to paint faint lines across his chest.

Her skin glowed warm under his gaze, a flush creeping up from her neck, her boobs rising with each quick breath.

The room was small, the air thick with the day’s trapped heat, and the faint hum of the common hall’s chaos lingered beyond the stone walls.

He didn’t rush, his hands rested on her hips, thumbs brushing the edge of her pants, and he grinned, that familiar smirk sharp in the dim light.

She watched him, gray eyes wary but softening, her hands hovering near his arms like she wasn’t sure where to land them.

He slid his hands lower, fingers tugging at her pants’ ties, loosening them with slow, deliberate pulls.

"You’re too good for half-measures," he said, voice low and smooth, echoing the charm he’d spun in the hall.

She lifted her hips, letting him ease the pants down her thighs, her breath catching as the fabric slipped free and hit the floor.

"Gon," she murmured, a question in her tone, her hands settling on his forearms, light but firm.

He met her eyes, grin softening just enough to draw her in. "Hey," he said, "I’ve been thinking about this, about you. Let me take my time."

Her grip relaxed, fingers curling against his skin, and she gave a small nod, barely there.

He shifted, sliding down the cot until his knees hit the floor, pulling her legs over the edge.

Her thighs parted slightly, and he kissed the inside of one, soft at first, lips brushing the sensitive skin just above her knee.

His mouth was warm, lingering, and he trailed higher, slow kisses dotting the path up her inner thigh.

Her breath hitched, a sharp little sound, and her legs tensed under his hands.

He glanced up, catching the way her chest rose faster, her boobs trembling faintly with each inhale.

"You like that?" he asked, voice a teasing hum against her skin, and he kissed higher, closer to her core, letting his breath fan over her, hot, deliberate, a tease of what might come.

She squirmed, a soft moan slipping out, low and unsteady. "Maybe," she said, guarded but cracking, her hands fisting the blanket beneath her.

His hands roamed now, one sliding up her thigh, fingers splaying wide to grip her, while the other traced her hip, dipping low to brush the edge of her core.

He didn’t dive in, teased instead, his fingertips grazing her outer folds, light and fleeting, testing her reaction.

She jolted, hips twitching up, and another moan broke free, higher this time, needy.

Her thighs spread wider, an invitation he didn’t miss, and he grinned against her skin, kissing her inner thigh again, harder now, sucking lightly to leave a faint mark.

"You’re making this hard," he murmured, voice warm against her, "driving me wild just lying there."

Her head tipped back, a soft laugh escaping, half disbelief, half surrender. "You’re full of it," she said, but her voice was breathy, her body leaning into his words.

He shifted his hand, fingers sliding closer, stroking her core now, not deep, just along the surface, feeling the wet heat of her against his skin.

She was slick, ready, and her hips rocked into his touch, a slow grind that pulled a groan from her throat, deep, raw, her knuckles whitening where she gripped the blanket.

He teased her more, circling her entrance with one finger, dipping in just enough to make her gasp, then pulling back.

"Gon," she said, sharper now, a plea wrapped in his name, and her legs trembled, thighs pressing against his shoulders.

He blew a soft stream of air over her core, cool against her warmth, and she arched, a loud moan ripping out, her hands flying to his hair, tugging him closer.

"Don’t stop," she gasped, the guard in her voice gone, replaced by want.

He kissed her other thigh now, mirroring the trail, slow, wet kisses climbing higher, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin.

His hand kept working, fingers stroking her core in lazy, deliberate lines, spreading her wetness, teasing her clit with a light brush that made her buck.

Her moans came faster, short, broken sounds spilling from her lips, her body writhing under him.

One hand stayed in his hair, pulling, while the other clawed at the cot, nails scraping the fabric. "You’re too much," he said, voice low against her thigh, "I can’t get enough of you."

Her hips rolled harder, grinding into his hand, her breath ragged. "Then don’t," she shot back, half a challenge, her eyes half-lidded as she stared down at him.

He pressed his mouth higher, kissing the crease where her thigh met her core, sucking lightly, his breath hot and close.

His fingers teased deeper now, one slipping inside her, slow and shallow, curling just enough to make her cry out, a sharp, desperate sound that echoed in the small room.

Her legs shook, clamping around his shoulders, and she rocked against him, chasing the sensation.

He fondled her with his free hand, sliding it up her stomach to her boobs, cupping one and squeezing, his thumb brushing the nipple in quick, firm strokes.

She moaned again, louder, unrestrained, her back arching off the cot, pushing her chest into his hand. "Gon, please," she breathed, voice breaking, her body a live wire under his touch.

He teased her nipple, pinching it lightly, rolling it between his fingers as his other hand worked her core, two fingers now, sliding in and out, slow but steady, her wetness coating him.

Her moans turned to whimpers, her hips bucking wild, grinding against his hand, her thighs trembling against his face.

He kissed her inner thigh one last time, sucking hard, then pulled back just enough to watch her, flushed, panting, a mess of need. "You’re perfect," he said, voice soft and sure.

She didn’t answer, just moaned, her hands tugging his hair, pulling him back toward her, and he grinned, ready to push her further.