The change was immediate. Her breast swelled against my palm, filling heavier and fuller in the space between one heartbeat and the next. Warmth spread through the tissue as whatever impossible mechanism the System used to trigger lactation did its work.

A bead of white appeared at her nipple, caught the candlelight, and rolled down the curve of her breast in a thin line that I tracked with focused attention.

Addison made a noise that didn’t have a name. Part scream. Part sob. Part something that sounded suspiciously like laughter, as if her body couldn’t decide which response was appropriate for the experience of your tits spontaneously producing milk in a pocket dimension while blindfolded and being touched by invisible hands.

"What is. Monroe what did you just. Is that. Am I."

I lowered my mouth to her nipple and sealed my lips around her. Sucked once. The milk hit my tongue in a rush.

\[You drink a mouthful of milk from a Silver-tier target. As a result, you get 50 points!\]

The taste. God, the taste.

Addison’s essence was nothing like Naomi’s vanilla or Belle’s honey-cinnamon or Aurora’s strawberry cream. This was darker. Richer. Black coffee and dark chocolate and something with heat, like cinnamon bark or cayenne, a warmth that sat on the back of my tongue and bloomed outward into my sinuses.

It tasted like her personality distilled into liquid form, complicated and aggressive and hiding something sweet underneath all that bite.

I drank again. The second mouthful came faster, her body already responding to the extraction with the eager generosity that the System demanded from willing participants. She was producing more than I expected, the milk flowing in steady pulses that matched her breathing.

\[You drink a mouthful of milk from a Silver-tier target. As a result, you get 50 points!\]

Addison’s hips came off the bed. Not a gentle lift. A full spasm that nearly dislodged me from her breast, her lower body bucking upward with enough force that her abs went rigid and her thighs clamped together. The lace of her panties darkened visibly as moisture flooded through the fabric, and her back arched into a curve so extreme I could see the ridgeline of her spine through the skin of her stomach.

"FUCK."

I kept drinking. My free hand found her other breast, cupping and squeezing with the kind of pressure she’d demanded, rule one, and I thumbed her nipple until a second stream of milk leaked down across my knuckles and onto the sheets below.

The phantom touches from Sensory Hijack were still running across every nerve ending she had, and combined with the extraction and my mouth, her nervous system had apparently decided that the appropriate response was to simply surrender everything at once.

She squirted. Full on. The lace became useless as liquid soaked through and ran down her thighs and onto the dark sheets in spreading patches. Her legs shook so hard the bed frame rattled against the brick wall behind it. Candles flickered from the vibration.

The sound she made wasn’t a moan anymore. It was a continuous keening note that rose and fell with each pulse of milk from her breast, each wave of the phantom touches, each contraction of her lower body as orgasm rolled through her in a chain reaction that didn’t seem interested in stopping.

\[You drink a mouthful of milk from a Silver-tier target. As a result, you get 50 points!\]

I let her nipple slip free and actually looked at what I’d done.

Addison Baxter. Rank twenty-seven. The goth reaper who manifested dual scythes and promised to rearrange your skeleton if you crossed her. That Addison. Currently sprawled across dark sheets with milk running from both breasts, lace panties soaked through, thighs shaking, and making sounds no one else had ever pulled from her.

The silk blindfold covered her eyes but nothing about this scene was covered. Not her ruined composure, not the way her chest rose and fell in ragged bursts, not the wet evidence of just how far past her limits I’d pushed her.

She looked destroyed. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

She looked perfect.

The candlelight turned her skin golden in all the places it caught moisture. Her stomach glistened. Her chest heaved. The thigh-high stockings had ridden down slightly on the left side, bunching at the knee in a way that made her look somehow more undone than if she’d been completely naked. Purple highlights caught and released light with each heaving breath.

The blindfold was soaked with tears or sweat, I couldn’t tell which, and her hands had stopped gripping the sheets and were now just open, palms up, fingers loose, like she’d released something she’d been holding onto since long before tonight.

She was so fucking sexy that my chest hurt.

Not from the System. Not from points or abilities or extraction bonuses. Just from the raw, stupid, human experience of watching someone this guarded choose to fall apart for you and knowing that you’d been given something that nobody else had ever earned.

"Jace." Her voice was shredded. Barely above a whisper. "Jace, what did you do to me."

I wiped milk from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand and crawled up her body, kissing her stomach, her ribs, the underside of each breast, the hollow of her throat. When I reached her face I pulled the blindfold up onto her forehead so I could see her eyes.

The violet contacts were swimming. Behind them, her real brown eyes stared at me with an expression I’d never seen on Addison Baxter’s face before.

She looked safe.

"That was one," I said.

Her whole body shuddered.

"You absolute psychopath."

"You told me to surprise you."

Her hand found the back of my neck. Her grip was weaker than before, the strength drained from her fingers by whatever the extraction and the orgasm had taken from her reserves. She pulled me down until our foreheads touched and our noses bumped and the taste of her milk still sat heavy on my tongue while her breath came in hot little bursts against my lips.

"Don’t you dare stop."