Divine Milking System

She turned her head to look at me, those pink eyes searching my face. "You’re good at this."

"At what?"

"Making the ridiculous sound reasonable."

I grinned. "One of my many talents."

She sat up slowly, reaching for the hem of her shirt. "Fine. But if this ends up on display in your room like some weird trophy, I’m using Wave Motion on your face."

"Totally fair."

She pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it at my desk. Her sports bra followed. I’d seen her naked more times than I could count at this point, but the sight still hit me like a freight train every single time.

"Stop staring and get on with it," she said, her cheeks flushing pink.

I activated Private Sanctum, and her room dissolved into the luxury suite I’d become familiar with. Forty-five minutes now at Bronze rank. Plenty of time.

She settled against the headboard, crossing her arms under her breasts in that defensive posture she always adopted before extraction. Like she still wasn’t quite comfortable despite knowing exactly what was about to happen.

I knelt on the mattress beside her, setting the bottle on the nightstand. "This won’t feel different from normal. Just... less drinking."

"Romantic."

"Hey, you’re the one who wanted straight talk."

She uncrossed her arms, letting them fall to her sides. "Fine. Do your vampire thing."

I activated Euphoric Feedback at level five, letting the warmth spread across her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing evening out as the pleasure settled into her nervous system.

"Better?" I asked, my palm resting over her heart.

"Mmm."

I took that as permission and cupped her left breast, my thumb brushing across her nipple. She responded immediately, her back arching slightly as the flesh swelled under my touch. The extraction triggered, and milk beaded at the tip.

I reached for the bottle.

"Wait," she said, her hand catching my wrist. "Show me first."

"Show you what?"

"How it works."

I held her gaze and lowered my mouth to her breast, sealing my lips around her nipple. The milk came immediately, warm and sweet with that vanilla undertone that was pure Naomi. I swallowed once, twice, letting her feel the rhythm of it.

Her fingers tightened in my hair. "Oh."

I pulled back, licking my lips deliberately. "Like that."

"That’s..." She swallowed hard. "That’s nice."

"Just nice?"

"Shut up and use the bottle."

I positioned the wide mouth against her breast, angling it to catch the flow. Then I reactivated the extraction, increasing the intensity.

Milk sprayed into the bottle in steady streams, the glass filling slowly. I had to adjust my grip twice to keep it from overflowing. Naomi watched with fascination and embarrassment warring across her face.

"This is so weird," she breathed.

"Yep."

"I’m literally being milked."

"Like the world’s prettiest cow."

She kicked me, which made her miss the bottle and spray milk across my shirt. "You’re awful."

"You love it." I repositioned the bottle, catching the flow again.

"I really don’t."

"Liar."

She bit her lip, her cheeks going darker. "Okay, maybe a little."

I cranked Euphoric Feedback to level seven, and her complaint died in her throat. Her head fell back against the headboard as pleasure rolled through her in waves.

"That’s cheating," she gasped.

"You say that like it’s a bad thing."

The bottle filled quickly at the higher intensity, her body responding eagerly to the amplified sensation. When it reached capacity, I corked it and set it aside, milk sloshing inside the iridescent glass.

One cup. Two hundred points. Two days of life.

Naomi stared at the bottle, her chest still heaving. "How much is in there?"

"Enough."

"That’s not an answer."

"Two days," I admitted. "Give or take."

Something complicated crossed her face. "Just from that?"

I nodded.

She reached up and pulled me down into a kiss, fierce and desperate. When we parted, her voice came out rough. "Then you’d better make it worth it."

I intended to.

I woke her with my mouth between her thighs, no warning, just the sudden wet heat of my tongue against her. She jerked awake with a sound that was half-gasp, half-moan, her hands immediately flying to my hair.

"Jace, what—"

I activated Sensory Hijack, taste and touch simultaneously. She tasted herself on her tongue while feeling phantom hands caressing her breasts, her stomach, her inner thighs. Every nerve ending fired at once.

Her back bowed off the mattress. "Oh my god."

I worked her slowly, thoroughly, using every trick I’d learned over the past week. The Wave Motion vibrations she’d taught me. The specific angle of my tongue that made her thighs shake. The rhythm that pushed her right to the edge and held her there until she begged.

"Please," she gasped. "Jace, please."

I sealed my lips around her clit and cranked Euphoric Feedback to level nine.

She screamed my name as she came, her thighs clamping around my head hard enough to hurt. I didn’t care. I drank her down like I was dying of thirst, committing every sound, every tremor, every pulse to memory.

When she finally stopped shaking, I crawled up her body and kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips.

"You’re insane," she whispered against my mouth.

"You started it," I reminded her. "With the whole ’make it worth it’ thing."

"I meant like... a massage or something."

"Liar."

She laughed breathlessly, her fingers tracing my jaw. "Maybe."

I kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. Soft touches that had nothing to do with extraction or abilities or survival. Just Naomi and me and this thing between us that kept growing bigger than I could control.

"I like you," I said, the words escaping before I could stop them.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I like you," I repeated, committed now. "A lot. More than I should after only a week."

"Jace—"

"I know you’re going to say it’s too fast or it’s complicated or I’m with other people, but I don’t care. You’re—" I stopped, searching for words. "You’re important."

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression cycling through surprise, uncertainty, and something soft that made my chest ache.

"You’re important to me too," she said quietly. "Really important."

"Good." I kissed her again. "Because you’re stuck with me now."

"That’s weirdly possessive."

"You like it."

"I really don’t." But she was smiling when she said it, and her arms tightened around my neck. "We should get ready for class."

"Or," I suggested, my hand sliding down her side, "we could be late."

"Misato will murder us."

"Worth it."

She laughed and pushed me away, sitting up. Her hair was a disaster, her lips swollen, her skin flushed and marked with evidence of my attention. She looked perfect.

"Come on, Sir Sucks-a-Lot. We’ve got gates to bid on and a ranking to climb."

"Worst nickname in history."

"Too late. It’s canon now."

I groaned but got up, grabbing clothes from where they’d ended up scattered across her floor. My uniform had somehow ended up draped over her desk lamp, which seemed physically impossible but I’d stopped questioning things.

She disappeared into her bathroom, and I heard the shower start. A minute later her head poked out.

"Are you coming or what?"

I was already moving.