Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties-Chapter 140: Why Is Your Mom Here? 2

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.

Liam stepped in first. Diana followed, and behind them, just before the doors closed, a couple squeezed in.

Mid-thirties. The woman nudging the man’s arm. "You didn’t book the spa did you," she said flatly.

"I told you yesterday." The man didn’t look up from his phone. "I booked it."

She stared at him. "When?"

"Just now."

Liam glanced at the woman once. [42/100] floated above her head. He looked away.

The doors closed.

Liam pressed 12. The panel lit up. The man pressed 7.

The elevator started moving.

Liam stood beside Diana, close enough that their arms touched.

She was looking straight ahead, composed, her hands folded loosely in front of her. The silver-white waves of her hair fell past her shoulders.

The cream dress hugged her waist, the hem sitting just above her knees. She looked like she’d just come from a board meeting.

Liam looked at her. Then he looked at the floor numbers ticking upward.

Then he slid two fingers under the hem of her dress and lifted it.

Diana’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands tightened in front of her but she didn’t move. The fabric rose slowly, an inch, then two, then enough.

Black.

The panties were black — a fine net material, sheer enough that nothing was left to the imagination, the fabric barely covering anything.

A thin waistband sitting low on her hips. The kind of thing you wore when you already knew how the day was going to end.

’Holy shit’

Liam let his eyes drop to them for a moment. Then he looked up at her.

Diana was staring straight ahead. Her jaw was tight. Her face was perfectly still except for the faint flush sitting high on her cheekbones.

He kept the dress raised.

"Black," he said, his voice low enough for only her. "Nice choice."

She didn’t answer.

He let one finger trace the waistband slowly, dragging across the sheer fabric. She was warm. More than warm.

The material was damp against his fingertips, visibly so, the net clinging slightly where it had no business clinging in an elevator with two other people standing two feet away.

"You’re soaked," he said. "You keep telling yourself you don’t want this but your body’s already decided."

Diana turned her head slightly toward him. Her voice was barely above a breath. "There are people here."

’Yeah and you’re soaking through black net in front of all of them.’

"I know."

She exhaled through her nose. "Liam."

"You wore black net panties to come see me in the morning," he said. "My favorite."

A beat of silence.

Then the corner of her mouth moved. Just slightly. "I thought you’d like it."

"I love it."

He pressed his palm flat against the fabric and her thighs shifted, just barely, the movement so small that nobody would catch it. Her eyes closed for half a second.

*Hmmph.*

The sound came from behind her lips, swallowed almost completely, but not quite. Her hand came up and pressed against her mouth as Liam’s fingers moved, slow and deliberate, the net fabric doing nothing to dull the friction.

In front of them the couple stood perfectly still. The man’s phone screen was dark now. Both of them facing forward with the particular stillness of people who were absolutely listening and absolutely pretending they weren’t.

Diana looked at the back of their heads. She could feel it — the awareness radiating off both of them, the effort it took not to turn around. She bit down on the inside of her cheek.

Liam didn’t stop.

His fingers pressed in and she made the sound again, lower this time, more controlled, but the way her body leaned fractionally into his hand gave everything away.

*Hmmph.*

Her free hand found the side of his jacket and gripped it. Not pushing him away. Just holding on.

The elevator stopped at 7 with a soft chime.

The doors opened. Liam glanced at the woman one last time. [71/100]. The number had climbed.

’She was getting horny just from listening,’he thought, a smile tugging at his lips.

The woman stepped out first without looking back. The man followed, glancing back just once before the doors closed on them.

The elevator was empty.

Diana turned to him.

She grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. Her mouth opened against his immediately, her fingers pulling at the fabric, her body pressing into him until his back met the mirrored wall of the elevator. He kissed her back just as hard, one hand sliding into her hair, the other finding the curve of her waist and pulling her closer.

She tasted like the morning. Clean and warm.

His hand moved from her waist to the zipper at the back of her dress. He found it without looking, his fingers dragging it down slowly. The cream fabric loosened across her back, the neckline dropping slightly, her skin appearing in a long line from her shoulder blades down.

Diana pulled back just enough to look at him, her lipstick slightly smudged, her breathing uneven. Her dress was half off her shoulders now, the front held up only by the tension between their bodies.

She reached up and straightened his collar with both hands. Unhurried. Like they had all the time in the world.

"You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this," she said.

"Tell me."

"Since the night you fucked me on the floor of my own parlor." Her fingers moved to his shirt buttons, working the top one loose. "I kept telling myself it was a one time thing."

"And?"

"And then I drove here in a black net thong." She undid the second button. "So."

The elevator chimed. Twelfth floor.

The doors opened into a quiet corridor. Pale walls, low lighting, dark carpet running the length of the hallway. Empty in both directions.

Liam took her hand and walked.

---

Room 1204 was at the end of the hall.

He pressed the key card against the panel. The light flashed green. He pushed the door open and Diana walked in ahead of him.

The room was clean and wide — a king bed dressed in white linen against the far wall, floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city, the morning light coming in flat and bright. A low couch.

A desk. A mirror above the dresser that reflected the whole room back at them.

Diana stopped near the foot of the bed.

She reached up and let the dress fall.

It dropped to the floor in a quiet heap of cream fabric. Underneath, just the black net panties, a matching strapless bra, thin straps of sheer material doing very little.

Her figure was the kind that made the room feel smaller.

Waist pulling in before her hips flared out, her skin pale and smooth in the morning light, the silver-white hair falling over her bare shoulders.

She reached behind her back and unclipped the bra.

Liam watched her.

She set it on the edge of the bed and stood there looking at him with the calm of someone who knew exactly what they looked like and had made peace with it a long time ago.

"Your turn," she said.

He pulled his jacket off and laid it over the chair.

Shirt next, unbuttoned the rest of the way and shrugged off. Diana’s eyes moved across his chest slowly, the way you look at something you’ve been thinking about for a while.

She closed the distance between them and put her hands on him, her palms flat against his chest, her fingers tracing downward.

She unbuckled his belt without looking down, her eyes staying on his face the whole time. The buckle came loose. She pulled the belt free and dropped it.

Then she looked down.

She sank to her knees in front of him.

Her fingers worked his zipper.

She pulled his trousers down and he stepped out of them.

She looked up at him once from where she knelt, her expression completely composed, her silver hair falling forward over one shoulder.

Then she took him in her mouth.

Liam’s hand moved into her hair.

She was unhurried about it. Deliberate.

The kind of slow, focused attention that made it hard to think in straight lines.

Her hands rested on his thighs and she worked at her own pace, her head moving steadily, the room completely quiet except for the sound of it and the low, controlled exhale Liam let out through his nose.

His hand tightened in her hair.

She didn’t stop. If anything the pressure made her go slower, more deliberate, her tongue moving in a way that made his jaw tighten.

He let her continue until he felt his legs lock, then he pulled her up by the hair gently.

She rose to her feet, wiped the corner of her mouth with one finger, and looked at him.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

Diana hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the black net panties and stepped out of them. She held them between two fingers for a moment, visibly damp, before dropping them onto the floor.

She climbed onto the bed and straddled him.

She reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, positioning herself. Then she paused.

Just sat there above him, her thighs on either side of his, her weight not yet settled, her hand holding him in place.

Looking at him the way she’d looked at him in the elevator — calm, settled, the kind of woman who moved through the world at her own pace and expected it to wait.

"I’ve been looking forward to this," she said.

Not breathless. Not flustered. Just honest.

’So has every part of me.’

Liam looked up at her. "You said that already."

She smiled.

And then she sat down.