My Netori Life With System: Stealing Milfs And Virgins

Chapter 246: 246. Breaking Her Even More With Some Foreplay! (It’s Dominant, Ofc!)**

Mike’s eyes narrowed, a predatory grin spreading across his face as he listened to her breathless confession. He wasn’t about to let her bask in the afterglow just yet.

He felt a surge of vengeful lust; she had pushed him to the absolute brink, forcing that massive, violent explosion from him, and now he was going to make sure she felt the weight of that intensity all over again.

"You think you can just talk your way out of the work, Professor?" he teased, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous rumble. "You think because you took the flood, you’re done? Well, fuck no!"

"You’re going to pay me back for every drop you made me lose."

With a sudden, powerful movement, he shifted his position. He sat back on the edge of the bathtub, his large, muscular back leaning against the porcelain rim, his legs spread wide to create a throne of tanned, hard muscle.

He reached down, his hands wrapping around her waist like iron bands, and with a grunt of effort, he hauled her upward.

"AHH! MMMM!" Sabrina let out a startled cry as she was hoisted into the air, her legs dangling for a moment before he pulled her down firmly onto his lap.

She was sitting straddled across him, her soaking wet heat pressed directly against his hard, pulsing thigh.

"Now," Mike commanded, his hands immediately finding their targets. "Let’s see how much of a ’breath’ you actually need."

He didn’t start gently. His hands descended on her breasts with a heavy, possessive force, his large palms cupping her weight and squeezing with a rhythmic, punishing pressure.

He used his thumbs to grind against her nipples, which were already hypersensitive from the previous onslaught, making her back arch instinctively.

"AAAAHH! MMMM! MIKE... PLEASE!"

But he wasn’t done. His left hand slid down, bypassing her stomach and diving straight into the slick, messy heat between her legs.

His fingers, large and calloused, plunged into her, finding the swollen, aching center of her pleasure with unerring accuracy. He began to work her with a brutal, rapid friction, his fingers curling and hooking inside her to mimic the devastating depth of his thrusts.

"OH GOD! NNNGH! HHH... HHH... MMMM!"

Sabrina’s head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut as the sensation hit her like a physical wave. The combination of his heavy hands on her chest and the relentless, digging rhythm of his fingers below was too much.

Her breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, her lungs burning as if she were still trying to clear the semen from her throat.

"Mike... wait..." she whimpered, her voice cracking.

She reached up, her hands trembling as she pressed against his broad, sweaty chest, trying to create even a sliver of space between them. "Please... just... a second... a breather... I need to... to rest..."

She was panting, her chest heaving, her entire body trembling from the sheer exhaustion of the climax and the sudden, renewed assault. She felt like a string pulled too tight, ready to snap at the slightest touch.

"Rest?" Mike mocked, his voice a dark, vibrating growl against her ear.

He didn’t slow down; if anything, his fingers moved faster, his thumb circling her clitoris with a punishing, rhythmic intensity that made her hips buck uncontrollably against his hand. "You don’t get to rest until I say you’re done, Sabrina!"

"You don’t get to catch your breath until you’ve earned it!"

He leaned forward, his massive chest crushing her smaller frame, pinning her against him so she could feel the heat of his skin and the unyielding strength of his muscles. He was a wall of pure, dominant masculinity, and she was trapped within it.

"AAAAHHH! MMMM! GHHH! HHH!"

"Look at you," he whispered, his breath hot and smelling of raw desire. "Begging for a break~!"

"You’re so weak and so fucking needy!"

"You want to rest because you know if you keep going like this, you’re going to lose your mind completely. You’re going to shatter."

He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, right where she had been so vulnerable moments before.

"But that’s the point, isn’t it?" he hissed, his fingers working her with a ferocity that drove her toward a new, terrifying peak. "To break you... and to push you until there’s nothing left but the sound of your moans and the feeling of me!"

"You don’t need a breather, Sabrina... You need more and you need me to keep driving you until you forget how to breathe entirely."

"MMMM! GHHH! AAAAAHHH!"

She couldn’t argue. She couldn’t even find the words.

Every time she tried to protest, a new wave of intense, grinding pleasure would wash over her, silencing her pleas and replacing them with high, melodic cries of pure, unadulterated need. She was a prisoner to his rhythm, a slave to his hands, and as he continued his relentless payback, she realized with a terrifying thrill that she didn’t actually want the rest; she wanted the storm.

Mike saw the flicker of exhaustion in her eyes, but instead of letting her settle, he decided to turn the heat into a wildfire. He wasn’t just playing with her anymore; he was conducting a symphony of sensory overload, a calculated assault designed to strip away the last remnants of her composure until there was nothing left of the "Professor" but a screaming, beautiful wreck of a woman.

He shifted his grip, his large hands moving from her breasts to her hair, lacing his thick fingers through the damp strands and pulling her head back at a sharp, commanding angle. This exposed the long, elegant line of her throat, the very place he had just decimated with his seed.

"You think you’re tired?" he chuckled, a dark, predatory sound that vibrated against her skin. "You haven’t even felt the real storm yet."

He abandoned the rhythmic friction of his fingers for something far more primal and unpredictable. He began to use his entire hand, his palm pressing hard against her clitoris while his fingers worked deep inside her in a chaotic, unsynchronized pattern.

He wasn’t following a beat; he was creating a frantic, jarring rhythm that prevented her from ever finding a steady cadence to her pleasure. It was a sensory blitzkrieg.

"AAAAHHH! MMMM! GHHH! HHH!"

Sabrina’s scream was cut short as her body arched violently. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt; it was too much, too fast, a jagged lightning bolt of pleasure that seemed to bypass her brain and strike directly at her spine.

Her hips began to thrash against his lap, her movements no longer controlled but purely instinctive, driven by a desperate need to meet the friction of his hand.

"That’s it! Fight it!" Mike commanded, his voice a low roar.

He leaned in, his teeth sinking into the junction where her neck met her shoulder, not a gentle nip but a sharp, possessive bite that forced a high-pitched, melodic wail from her lungs.

"EEEEEE AAAAAHH! MMMM! MMMM!"

He then changed tactics again, a master of her anatomy. He moved his hand away from her heat for a split second, only to slide it up her torso, his rough palm dragging over her ribs and stomach, making her skin crawl with anticipation, before slamming it back down between her legs with even more ferocity.

He began to use his thumb to apply a heavy, grinding pressure to her most sensitive point, while his fingers inside her performed a rapid, fluttering motion that felt like a thousand tiny electric shocks.

The sheer unpredictability of his touch sent her into a state of pure, unadulterated madness. She was no longer just moaning; she was vocalizing in a way that was almost primal, a mixture of high-pitched shrieks, guttural groans, and breathless, sobbing gasps.

"AHHH! AHHH! MMMM! GLLLLK! HHHH!"

"Look at you!" Mike laughed, the sound booming in the small, humid space.

He watched with intense, dark satisfaction as her eyes rolled back in her head, her pupils dilated until they were almost entirely black. "You’re losing it!"

"You’re absolutely losing your fucking mind, Sabrina! Scream for me! Let the whole damn hotel know who owns you!"

He leaned his weight into her, his muscular chest crushing her breasts, adding the heavy, suffocating sensation of his mass to the intense friction below. He was overwhelming her senses from every direction: the sight of his dark, triumphant eyes; the sound of his commanding voice; the scent of his musk; the feeling of his teeth on her skin; and the relentless, punishing pleasure between her legs.

"Please... Mike... please...!" she wailed, her voice breaking into a sob of pure ecstasy. "It’s too much... it’s too much! I’m going to... I’m going to break! AAAAAAHHHH!"

"Then break!" he roared back, his fingers working her with a final, devastating intensity, his thumb pinning her clitoris in a relentless, vibrating grind. "Break for me! Shatter into a million fucking pieces!"

She was a woman possessed. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back as if she were trying to fuse herself to him.

Her head thrashed from side to side, her hair lashing against his arms, as she unleashed a continuous, soul-shaking scream that echoed off the tiles, a sound of total, glorious surrender to the madness he had unleashed within her. She wasn’t just experiencing pleasure; she was being consumed by it, a victim of a beautiful, violent, and utterly dominant foreplay that left her soul bare and her body screaming for a release that felt miles away.