Chapter Text
Milk arrived at the venue earlier than instructed. The towering glass facade of the Twenty Wendy building gleamed under the soft golden rays of morning light, reflecting an image of the city skyline fractured into sharp, fragmented shapes. She adjusted the pink cap resting low over her forehead and took a deep breath.
Calm down, she told herself, clutching the strap of her bag.
This was it—an audition for one of the most influential makeup brands in the world. The air smelled of expensive perfume and faint anxiety, the kind that clings to hopefuls walking into places where destinies could shift in the span of a camera flash.
Rumors about the brand and its enigmatic CEO buzzed in her ears during the drive here. They painted the CEO as a woman with an almost mythic presence—sharp eyes, sharp words, and sharper decisions. Cold, unreachable, someone whose approval was an impossible grail.
Milk shook her head, trying to dismiss the growing knot in her stomach. It’s just another audition.
The waiting area was already filling with other models—gorgeous faces, sharp cheekbones, confident strides. Milk slipped into the room quietly, choosing a corner chair where she could observe without being immediately noticed.
“Is this seat taken?”
A voice broke through her thoughts. Milk looked up to see a tall petite woman with an easy confidence about her. She had long, styled hair framing a sharp jawline and a smile that could set cities on fire.
Milk shook her head. “No, go ahead.”
The woman plopped down beside her, setting her handbag neatly on her lap. “You’re early. Rookie move.”
Milk smirked faintly. “I could say the same about you.”
“I’m JingJing,” the woman said, extending her manicured hand.
“Pansa.” Milk took her hand, noting the deliberate way JingJing’s fingers lingered just a moment too long before letting go.
“So, Pansa…” JingJing tilted her head, examining Milk’s outfit—a casual streetwear vibe with the pink cap slightly shading her face. “You don’t seem like the type who gets nervous.”
Milk shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving.”
JingJing’s grin widened, and her voice dropped into something softer, more intimate. “You know, nerves can be charming on the right person.”
Milk felt her cheeks warm slightly but masked it with a chuckle. “Are you always this forward with strangers, or am I just lucky today?”
“Lucky,” JingJing said with a wink before leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs elegantly. “But you’ll have to wait and see if that luck carries over to the audition.”
Their conversation continued—easy, teasing, like two people who had met in another life and were merely reacquainting themselves. For a fleeting moment, Milk felt the tension in her chest ease, lulled by JingJing’s playful energy.
But in the quiet moments between their exchanges, Milk’s mind wandered—to the brand, to the cold rumors about the CEO, and to last night.
‘Pansa’, she thought bitterly.
Was she Pansa now, here in this polished room, under fluorescent lights and artificial smiles?
She didn’t have an answer.
…………………
Love sat in the shadowed observation room, her presence swallowed by the dim light and the faint hum of machinery. Her gaze remained locked on the two-way mirror, where a pristine view of the audition area unfolded before her.
She spotted Pansa—Milk—immediately. That pink cap, the casual slouch of her shoulders, the way she avoided direct eye contact unless spoken to. Love’s chest tightened at the sight.
In front of her sat a neat stack of portfolios, each polished and glossy with hopeful faces staring back at her. But her hand rested on just one—Pansa’s.
The plan had already been set. This audition was merely a theater act, with Love as the unseen playwright and director. Milk—or Pansa, whoever she chose to be—was going to win this campaign.
But not because she deserved it.
No, this was personal.
Last night had shattered something fragile inside Love—something she had spent years gluing back together. After seeing that orange cat embroidery on Milk’s shirt during their brief video call, everything clicked into place with an audible crack.
Pansa, the stranger she’d hooked up with. Milk, the woman who had been slowly weaving herself into Love’s guarded world through her voice and words. They were one and the same.
Had Milk known who she was all along? Did she specifically target her?
The thought made her stomach churn, her fingers curling into fists against the leather armrest of her chair.
But what hurt more was the realization that she had opened herself up—again—to someone who might not have meant a single word they’d said to her.
Was she just like Tu?
That name still burned like acid in her throat.
No, Love wouldn’t let this slide. Not again. She had been played with, deceived, and now she was going to set things right—on her terms.
She would let Milk—or Pansa—think she had won. She would let her bask under the spotlight, let her pose and preen for the camera.
And then, when the moment was right, Love would tear the veil away and expose everything.
Her hand slid away from Pansa’s portfolio, and her cold gaze lifted back to the mirror.
Milk was smiling faintly at JingJing, her head tilted slightly as they exchanged quiet words.
Love’s chest tightened again, but this time with something sharper—something that felt too much like jealousy.
Not yet, she told herself.
The game had only just begun.
With a curt nod to herself, Love turned away from the mirror and leaned back into the shadows.
“Let the audition begin,” she murmured under her breath.
Outside, the photographer called the first name, and the bright studio lights flickered to life.
Milk adjusted her cap one last time, her lips set in a determined line as she prepared to step into the spotlight.
But neither of them knew just how much this day would unravel.
………………….
The boardroom buzzed with subdued conversation as panelists exchanged notes and final opinions. Love sat at the head of the table, her expression composed, her posture commanding. Before her, two portfolios lay side by side—Pansa and Jingjing. The glossy photos inside spoke volumes about the women they represented: Jingjing, confident and refined, with a magnetic energy that filled every frame; Pansa, raw and vulnerable, her eyes carrying emotions that lingered long after the page turned.
Kaew, sharp-eyed and meticulous, tapped her pen against the table. “Jingjing is the safer choice. Experienced, polished, and dependable. She won’t crack under pressure, and she knows how to deliver.”
Tan, leaning back in his chair, shook his head slightly. “Pansa has something else—an unpredictability, an edge. It’s not technical perfection, but it’s… captivating. She makes you feel something.”
Love’s gaze lingered on Pansa’s portfolio as she spoke, her voice sharp and final. “We’re not looking for safe. We’re looking for something unforgettable, something that cuts through the noise. Pansa does that.”
The room fell quiet for a beat before Kaew nodded slowly, jotting down a note.
Before anyone could add more, the door creaked open, and Tu walked in. She didn’t just enter the room—she owned it. Her heels clicked against the marble floor with purpose as her tailored blazer hugged her figure perfectly. She paused by Love’s chair, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, her hand resting briefly on her shoulder. The gesture was casual, but the weight of it wasn’t lost on anyone in the room.
It took everything in Love to call Tu and ask her to join this project. But her plan was set in stone... and she needed to use Tu for this to work. She knows she's playing with fire but she would risk getting burned.
“You’re late,” Love said without looking up.
“And yet, right on time,” Tu replied, her smile as sharp as glass. She scanned the table, her gaze falling on the two portfolios. “What are we deciding here? Campaign face?”
Kaew cleared her throat. “Yes. We’re between Jingjing and Pansa. Both strong contenders, but with very different strengths.”
Tu took her time flipping through both portfolios, her brows arching slightly as she studied the images. “Why not hire both?” she said casually, snapping one folder shut. “You’ve got the budget, and frankly, these two together would make waves. Their styles contrast perfectly. And…” She paused, her gaze flicking briefly toward Love. “They seem to have chemistry. I saw it earlier on set. It practically sizzled.”
The panelists exchanged glances, murmuring their agreement. Love’s jaw tightened slightly, but she kept her composure.
“That’s unnecessary,” she said, her tone clipped but calm. “Pansa fits the campaign’s theme. We don’t need to dilute the focus with two faces fighting for attention.”
Tu smirked faintly and leaned one hip against the table. “Dilute? Or elevate? Be honest, Love—are you making this decision based on strategy… or something else?”
The air in the room grew heavier, tension crackling like static.
Kaew cleared her throat again. “Hiring both would certainly be unconventional, but Tu raises a point. They could complement each other beautifully.”
Tan nodded in agreement. “It’s a bold move, but one that could set us apart.”
Love’s hand curled into a fist beneath the table. This wasn’t how she wanted this to go. But the tide had shifted, and even she couldn’t pull it back.
“Fine,” she said curtly, her voice slicing through the hum of conversation. “We’ll proceed with both Jingjing and Pansa. Prepare the contracts.”
The decision was made, the weight of it settling like stones in her chest.
Minutes later, the announcement was made on set. Milk—Pansa—stood frozen for half a second as the words sank in. Jingjing let out an excited cheer, pulling her into an enthusiastic side hug. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, huh?”
Milk smiled faintly, her expression a mix of gratitude and something unreadable. “Yeah… I guess so.”
The models were guided toward the executive meeting room to sign contracts. Milk’s hands felt slightly clammy as she followed Jingjing through the glass doors, her chest tight with unease she couldn’t quite place.
When they entered, the sight before them brought Milk to a sudden stop.
Love sat at the head of the table, poised and composed, her fingers loosely clasped. To her right, Tu leaned comfortably against the edge of the table, one arm draped casually behind Love’s chair. Their proximity wasn’t overtly intimate, but it was close enough to send a pang through Milk’s chest.
For a brief moment, Milk thought she caught the faintest flicker of something in Love’s eyes when they met hers—something sharp and fleeting—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
“Welcome, Pansa and Jingjing. Congratulations again.” Kaew said, her voice smooth and her smile sharp.
Milk’s breath caught, but she managed to steady her voice. “It’s an honor to be here. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”
Jingjing, oblivious to the undercurrent in the room, beamed as she spoke. “This campaign is going to be incredible! I can already feel it.”
Tu chuckled softly, her sharp eyes flickering between Milk and Love before she turned her attention back to the contracts on the table. “Shall we get this signed then?”
Milk moved to sit down, her fingers trembling faintly as she picked up the pen. Across the table, Love watched her closely, her expression carefully neutral.
But Milk wasn’t blind. She saw the way Tu’s arm lingered behind Love’s chair, how Love didn’t shift away, how every word exchanged between them carried a weight she couldn’t ignore.
Something cracked deep inside her chest.
But Milk stayed silent.
Love noticed the flicker of pain in Milk’s eyes, and she felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.
But for one brief moment—so brief it could have been imagined—Love felt something sharp twist in her own chest. But she stayed silent, her mask firmly in place, as the contracts were signed and the meeting carried on.
……………………….
The meeting had wrapped up with a mix of tension and forced politeness. Contracts were signed, NDAs were handed over, and the room had started to clear out. Jingjing, always brimming with playful energy, turned to Milk as they walked side by side toward the exit.
“Well, Pansa, looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together,” Jingjing said, flashing Milk a sly grin. “Don’t get tired of seeing my face too soon, okay?”
Milk chuckled lightly, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’re hard to ignore, Jingjing.”
Jingjing gasped in mock offense, clutching her chest as if she’d been shot. “Oh, Pansa, you’re smooth. I might have to keep an eye on you before you break too many hearts on set.”
Milk rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “I’ll try my best to behave.”
Jingjing’s laughter rang softly as she waved goodbye, her figure disappearing down the hallway. Milk was about to leave herself when she patted her side and realized something was missing.
Her sling bag.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She could see it clearly in her mind—she had left it on the desk during the meeting. Without wasting time, she turned on her heel and headed back toward the CEO office.
The hallway felt longer this time, her footsteps echoing lightly against the marble floors. There was a nagging unease in her chest, though she couldn’t quite place why. Maybe it was the image of Love and Tu sitting so close, or how Love had let Tu’s hands linger on her waist, or the sharp smile Love had given her earlier that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
When Milk reached the grand office doors, she hesitated briefly before pushing them open. She expected silence, maybe someone still tidying up papers or an empty room entirely.
But instead, she was greeted by a scene she wasn’t prepared for.
Tu had Love pinned against the wall, one hand tangled in Love’s dark hair, the other hand shamelessly dipped past the waistband of her slacks. Their faces were impossibly close, Tu’s mouth moving against Love’s with an intensity that made Milk’s stomach drop.
Milk froze in the doorway.
For a heartbeat, she considered stepping back, quietly disappearing before either of them noticed. But her chest was tight, and something hot—jealousy, anger, betrayal—boiled in her veins.
The door creaked slightly as it swung wider with her subtle push, the sound slicing through the charged air like a blade.
Tu’s head snapped up first, irritation flashing across her sharp features. Love’s eyes followed shortly after, widening with something that looked a lot like panic.
The three of them stood there, frozen in a tableau of tension and unsaid words.
Tu’s lips curled into a smirk, her voice dripping with mockery as she spoke. “Well, look who decided to join the party.”
Milk’s smile was razor-sharp, her voice calm despite the storm churning inside her. “Saw what? I didn’t see anything that interesting.”
Love’s breath caught in her throat. Milk’s voice—steady, sarcastic, and cutting—hit her like a slap across the face.
Tu chuckled darkly, her fingers lazily sliding away from Love’s waist as if she were reluctantly letting go of something she owned. “Feisty. I can see why you’re into her,” she said, her gaze flicking between Milk and Love, enjoying the discomfort she was causing.
Milk stepped further into the room, her hands shoved casually into her pockets. Her stance was relaxed, but her eyes burned with something raw. “Relax, I’m just here for my bag.”
She said it so nonchalantly, but her eyes—her sharp, knowing eyes—were locked on Love’s face.
Love opened her mouth, as if to say something, but she stopped herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen from Tu’s kiss. The weight of Milk’s stare made her feel exposed, stripped down to something fragile she couldn’t hide.
Milk’s gaze flickered briefly to Tu, who was watching her with that ever-present smirk. It was as if she enjoyed being the wedge between them, feeding off the tension like it was her favorite meal.
But Love’s mind was somewhere else. Somewhere moments before this—
—Everyone had left the office after the meeting. The heavy door had clicked shut, leaving only Love and Tu in the spacious room.
Tu leaned casually against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, her sharp eyes locked onto Love. “So,” Tu began, her voice laced with venomous curiosity, “What’s with you and that Pansa, huh?”
Love smirked, that dangerous glint flashing in her eyes. “What, jealous already?”
Tu’s jaw tightened. “Jealous? Nope. Just curious. How do you two know each other?”
Love tilted her head, savoring the flicker of irritation in Tu’s expression. “Oh, you know… mutual friends. Same social circles.”
She let the silence hang for a second before she added casually, her tone sharp and cutting, “That, or probably because we’ve been fucking occasionally.”
The words were delivered with precision, slicing clean through Tu’s composure.
Tu flared up instantly. Her face darkened, and before Love could react, Tu had shoved her roughly against the wall, their faces inches apart.
“Who says you can play with anyone else?” Tu hissed before biting harshly into the sensitive skin of Love’s neck.
Love’s head tilted back against the wall, her eyes fluttering shut briefly as her lips curled into something bitter. “I play with whoever I want.”
She allowed it to happen. Tu claiming her lips with her hands all over her.
Part of her anticipated—no, wanted—Milk to walk in. She had noticed Milk had left her sling bag earlier, and she counted on her to return.
She just wished Milk would come in at any moment before Tu could take it any further.
And she did.---
Tu smirked at Pansa’s direction, her sharp gaze cutting through the tension. “Sorry you had to see that,” she said with a mocking tone.
“Don’t let me interrupt whatever this was,” Milk said, gesturing vaguely toward the two of them. Her smile was faint but sharp. “I’ll just grab my bag and get out of your way.”
She walked across the room with casual strides, her eyes never leaving Love’s face until the last second when she grabbed her sling bag off the desk.
There was a silent exchange then—a glance that said more than either of them would dare to admit out loud.
‘Do you want me to stay?’ Milk’s eyes seemed to ask. ‘Are you consenting to this? Are you okay?’
Love couldn’t look at her directly. Her gaze flickered away, her throat bobbing as she swallowed thickly.
“You should go, Tu. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Love said softly, her voice carefully controlled.
Tu raised an eyebrow, her smirk twitching as if she were amused by Love’s sudden change in demeanor. “Oh? So soon?”
Before Tu could press further, her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. She glanced at the screen, her expression tightening just slightly before she put on her usual confident grin.
“Well, duty calls.” Tu backed away, giving one last smirk to both women before strutting out of the office.
But Love knew exactly who was on the other side of that call.
Prim.
The same Prim who had been the root of every fracture between her and Tu. Prim, who Tu would drop everything for—no matter what.
Love’s chest tightened, and her carefully built façade cracked just slightly as her eyes lingered on Milk.
The care in Milk’s eyes was undeniable, and it made Love’s stomach twist painfully.
Maybe she’s not a sore loser yet, Love thought bitterly. She could still make Milk pay… right?
Without another word, Love walked toward the office door and locked it with a soft, deliberate click.
The sound reverberated in the heavy silence, and Milk’s sharp inhale was barely audible.
There was a shift in the air—dense, electric, and dangerous.
Milk’s gaze followed Love, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths as the realization of what was about to happen dawned on her.
Whatever was coming next—it was inevitable.
……………….
The sound of the lock clicking into place was a sharp punctuation to the silence that stretched between them. Milk stood frozen, her chest rising and falling as she watched Love slowly turn, her expression unreadable but her eyes burning with unspoken words.
“What exactly are you doing, Ms. CEO?” Milk asked as she crossed her arms.
Love tilted her head, anger etched in her face. It wasn’t playful; it was venomous, cutting.
“Drop the act. I’m tired of everyone lying to my face. I’m done pretending I don’t see through your lies.”
Milk’s posture stiffened, the weight of Love’s accusation cutting deeper than she cared to show. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, drop the act, Pansa,” Love spat, her voice laced with anger. She took a step closer, her presence suffocating. “Or should I say, Milk? How long were you planning to keep that from me? Was it fun, lying to my face?”
Milk’s stomach twisted. “So you knew…”
Love snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. “You walked into my life pretending to be someone you’re not. You lied to me from the start, Milk. You made me trust you.”
Milk clenched her fists at her sides, her jaw tightening. “I didn’t lie. I just—”
“Didn’t tell the truth,” Love finished for her, her tone mocking. “Same thing.”
The tension between them was a live wire, crackling with unspoken emotions and raw anger. Milk’s chest heaved as she struggled to find the right words, but Love wasn’t waiting.
“You know what I think?” Love said, stepping closer until there was barely an inch between them. “I think you’re scared. Scared that if you didn’t hide behind Pansa, you’d lose. Scared that I’d see right through you.”
Milk’s laugh was sharp, bitter. “You’ve already made up your mind about me, haven’t you? Fine. Think whatever you want, Love.”
“Don’t call me that,” Love growled, her voice low and dangerous.
“What should I call you, then?” Milk shot back, her voice rising. “The girl who clings to her ex even though she knows she’s not her first choice?”
The words hit their mark, and Love’s eyes flashed with fury. Without thinking, she grabbed Milk by the collar of her shirt and yanked her forward, their lips crashing together in a violent collision of teeth and desperation.
Milk’s hands shot up, gripping Love’s waist tightly as she pushed back, turning them so that Love was forced against the desk. The edge bit into Love’s thighs, but she didn’t falter. Instead, she grabbed the back of Milk’s neck, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss with bruising intensity.
“You don’t get to act like this,” Love hissed against Milk’s lips, her fingers moving to the buttons of Milk’s shirt, tearing one clean off in her haste. “You don’t get to pretend you’re innocent.”
Milk pulled back just enough to glare at her. “And you don’t get to pretend you’re the victim here,” she shot back, her hands sliding to Love’s hips and tugging her blazer down her arms in one fluid motion.
Love smirked, her defiance unyielding. “Prove it, then,” she challenged, her voice a taunt.
The challenge ignited something primal between them. Their hands moved in a chaotic frenzy, tugging, pulling, unbuttoning, and unzipping as they fought to strip away the barriers between them. Love’s nails scraped down Milk’s chest as she shoved the fabric of her shirt aside, exposing bare skin to the cool air.
Milk retaliated by grabbing the hem of Love’s blouse and yanking it over her head. Love gasped at the sudden movement, her hair falling messily around her face, but she recovered quickly, grabbing Milk’s belt and pulling her closer.
“Still think you’re in control?” Love taunted, her lips brushing against Milk’s ear.
Milk growled low in her throat, gripping Love’s thighs and lifting her onto the desk with a sharp thud. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who’s exactly where I want them to be” she countered.
Love laughed, breathless and bitter. “And you’re awfully smug for someone who’s been hiding who they are.”
Their kisses grew messier, more frantic, as they battled for dominance. Love bit down on Milk’s bottom lip, hard enough to draw a sharp gasp, her hands tangling in Milk’s hair and tugging roughly.
Milk didn’t let the sting deter her. She leaned in, her lips trailing down Love’s neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses and faint bruises. Love arched against her, her nails digging into Milk’s shoulders as she tried to regain control.
“You want the truth?” Milk muttered against Love’s skin, her voice rough. “Here it is: I don’t regret lying. I’d do it again if it meant being close to you.”
Love froze for a fraction of a second, her breath hitching. But then her hands tightened in Milk’s hair, pulling her head back so their eyes met.
“Liar,” Love whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. But her lips betrayed her, crashing against Milk’s in a kiss so fierce it left them both breathless.
Their movements grew more frantic, each touch fueled by anger and longing, each kiss a clash of tongues and teeth that left them aching.
And as they continued their heated battle, neither of them could deny the truth burning between them: they hated how much they needed each other.
Love wasn’t going to let Milk have the upper hand, though.
With a surge of strength and determination, she pushed Milk off of her, sliding off the desk in one fluid motion. Before Milk could recover, Love spun them around, her hands gripping Milk’s shoulders as she forced her back onto the desk.
The difference in their heights became apparent, but Love didn’t falter. She pressed forward, making Milk lean down just to meet her lips.
The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was a clash of tongues, teeth, and raw emotions. Love poured her frustration into every movement, her anger fueling her desire. She couldn’t believe Milk had the audacity to say those words, as if she truly meant something to her.
But Love wasn’t buying it.
This wasn’t just about passion; it was about control, revenge, and making Milk feel every ounce of the chaos Love had endured. She wanted to see Milk unravel beneath her, to leave her breathless and yearning, just as Milk had left her.
Love slowed her pace suddenly, the aggression of her kisses shifting into something deeper, more intentional. Her lips moved against Milk’s with a slow, deliberate passion, her movements full of longing. It wasn’t just about punishment anymore—it was a silent confession, a release of the emotions she’d tried to bury.
She pulled back, her dark eyes locking with Milk’s. For the first time, they weren’t filled with anger but with tenderness and unspoken want.
“How can you say that with such ease?” Love whispered, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. “You lied to me. It was a choice you made on your own.”
Milk opened her mouth to respond, but before she could form a word, Love captured her lips again. This kiss was fervent, silencing any protest.
Love’s hands moved from Milk’s shoulders down to her arms, her fingers trailing over her skin as if memorizing the feeling. She took Milk’s hands in hers, lifting them between them and staring at them with quiet reverence. She brought one hand to her lips, pressing gentle kisses to her palm and fingers.
Her lips hovered over Milk’s forefinger before slowly enveloping it, her tongue teasing in a way that sent shivers down Milk’s spine. Milk watched, breathless, her heart racing as Love kissed her hand with an intensity that made the room feel smaller.
Love shifted, her mouth trailing down Milk’s neck, leaving a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses. She sucked on her skin, marking her with visible proof of her desire. Each mark was a claim, a wordless declaration that made Milk’s chest tighten.
Milk tried to stop her as Love’s lips traveled lower, but Love swatted her hand away, her dominance unyielding. Milk relented, letting Love take control, the heat of the moment stripping away her resistance.
Love’s lips closed around Milk’s nipple, her tongue swirling in deliberate circles as Milk moaned, unable to hold back. Love’s other hand roamed over Milk’s toned abs, her fingers slowly moving lower, drawing out anticipation with every touch.
When Love’s fingers finally slipped between Milk’s folds, Milk let out a sharp, trembling sigh. Love smiled against her skin, her voice low and sultry. “You’re so fucking wet.”
Without hesitation, Love knelt down, her hands spreading Milk’s thighs as her tongue made contact with her core. The sensation sent a jolt through Milk’s body, and she arched against Love’s mouth, gripping her hair for balance.
“Don’t be shy,” Love murmured, pausing briefly to look up at Milk with a wicked smile. “You can fuck my face.”
Milk’s control snapped.
She tugged on Love’s hair, guiding her movements as Love’s tongue worked with precision, flicking and teasing in ways that left Milk breathless.
“Don’t stop,” Milk demanded, her tone laced with desperation as she began grinding against Love’s mouth.
Love responded eagerly, her tongue working with precision to elicit every moan, every gasp, every tremble from Milk. Her hands gripped Milk’s thighs, holding her steady as Milk used her face, rocking her hips with growing intensity.
Milk’s breaths grew shallow, her moans filling the air as she lost herself to the sensation of Love’s tongue flicking over her clit, her lips pulling and teasing with maddening expertise. The sight of Love’s face buried between her thighs, her mouth relentless and eager, sent a rush of heat through her body.
“You love this, don’t you?” Milk panted, tugging Love’s hair harder as she pressed herself more firmly against her.
Love hummed in response, the vibration making Milk cry out as she ground harder against her tongue. Love’s fingers dug into Milk’s thighs, her movements becoming even more determined as if she wanted to prove that she wasn’t just being used—she was in control too.
“Fuck,” Milk groaned, her head tipping back as her body began to tremble. She could feel the pressure building, her thighs shaking as Love pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
Milk’s moans filled the room, her head tipping back as Love’s fingers joined in. Two fingers slipped inside her, moving in a steady, deliberate rhythm that matched the flick of Love’s tongue against her clit.
“Don’t stop—I’m cumming,” Milk gasped, her voice breaking as her body tightened around Love’s fingers.
Love didn’t stop. Her fingers pumped in a steady rhythm, hitting that perfect spot as her tongue worked Milk’s clit with relentless precision. Milk’s breaths became ragged, her grip tightening on Love’s hair as she ground against her face with abandon.
With one final flick of Love’s tongue and a perfectly timed thrust of her fingers, Milk shattered. She cried out, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Love stayed with her through it all, her mouth and fingers never stopping until Milk’s thighs finally quivered with oversensitivity.
Love licked up every drop, savoring Milk’s taste as she helped her ride out the waves of pleasure. When Milk finally collapsed back onto the desk, her chest heaving, Love stood, her face flushed and glistening.
Milk stared at her, awestruck. She’d never seen this side of Love before—fierce, vulnerable, and utterly irresistible.
“You taste even better when you’re desperate,” Love teased, her voice husky as she leaned over Milk.
Milk didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Love by the waist, pulling her close and crashing their lips together. The kiss was wild and messy, the taste of herself on Love’s tongue only fueling her desire.
There was no turning back now.