The first thing that reached him was not a sound, not a voice, but a scent—
that faint, unmistakable fragrance that only seemed to linger around women, soft yet intrusive, like warmth that refused to dissipate.
Before his mind could properly catch up, his body reacted first.
There was pressure against his chest, sudden and full, soft yet undeniably real, as if two elastic cushions had been pressed firmly against him, flattening slightly under the force while still retaining an almost unreasonable resilience. They moved—not deliberately, but insistently—brushing and shifting against him in a way that made it impossible to pretend it was accidental.
For a split second, his thoughts went blank.
So big. So soft.
That was his first coherent reaction.
He was bare-chested, fresh from the h
