Sexual desires are human nature; after a long journey, Walter was indeed holding back.
The desire for indulgence, the craving from deep within—it was a fire blazing, intense and consuming.
Arabella observed his expression, easily discerning Walter's cravings.
After a few rounds of drinks, Arabella led Walter to the largest nightclub in the City.
Even amidst the blackout that cloaked the surroundings in darkness, the nightclub remained brightly lit, like an embedded jewel shining brilliantly.
In all of the City, the nightclub was the only place with a backup power source.
Walking through the nightclub, Walter was captivated by the decadent yet tasteful ambiance.
Under Abyss's control, there were also nightclubs, and Walter had always considered the women there heavenly beauties. But now, compared to the ladies here, they seemed plain.
Sitting in a spacious private room, Walter was thrilled, eyeing the lineup of women of all shapes and sizes, eager to indulge.
Arabella sat on the other side of the booth, quietly observing Walter.
Compared to the beautiful women in the room, Arabella's appearance indeed went unnoticed.
If a woman's body was a weapon against men, then these glamorous women were the most fitting tools. In contrast, Arabella was hardly in the same league.
But did Arabella need to be the weapon? She was clearly the one wielding it.
With a wave of her hand, Arabella left all the women behind. Walter had brought a few trusted followers, and without the usual restraints, the group gathered together, surrounded by women, reveling in hedonistic delight.
Arabella's side remained quiet. She had stationed her subordinates outside, leaving only Raven to stand guard.
Raven only moved when Arabella needed him; otherwise, he barely blinked, his eyes unwaveringly fixed on her, seeing only Arabella.
After a few bottles, Walter's mind began to drift. He groped the woman in his arms with increasing boldness.
The women here were, of course, well-trained; one lay beneath, softly moaning, breaths laced with allure, as a few trusted confidants, stirred by the sight, let their actions grow increasingly uninhibited.
"Damn it—squeeze tighter." Walter thrust as he slapped the woman's breasts, swearing, "Women are damn filthy, only good for screwing; the harder you go, the more they enjoy it. Ah—feels good."
He cursed and swore, feigning drunkenness, using the occasion to humiliate Arabella.
He never truly respected any woman.
Arabella sat there, unfazed, not letting his words affect her in the slightest.
Her gaze swept critically over Walter's genitals, lingering before she observed his reckless, uncoordinated movements with a hint of scorn.
Judging by the woman's feigned look of pleasure, it was clear he wasn't doing a good job—a mere pretender.
If he couldn't even handle that, how dare he boast here?
Just as the mood inside was reaching its peak, a sudden knock sounded on the door, which then opened, letting in a rush of wind along with the lively sounds of revelry from outside. Then, as the door closed, all outside noise was shut away once more.
Arabella lifted her gaze and met a pair of almond-shaped eyes with a beautifully soft curve.
The owner of those eyes entered, nodding courteously at her first before turning his gaze to Walter and saying, "Sir, the goods are all unloaded."
Arabella thought to herself without a trace of expression, "Looks like we have a well-mannered one here."
"Taras—come, I saved one for you," Walter said, gesturing carelessly with a wave of his hand, where several women sat waiting.
"Thank you, Sir," Taras responded evenly, his voice smooth and pleasant.
In stark contrast to his gentle voice and eyes, he was tall and imposing, built like a mountain. Likely fresh from unloading cargo, his muscles were sharply defined after the exertion.
As he sat down, his full face came into view, revealing a scar on his forehead—deep but not long, likely left by a sharp weapon. His features were sharply defined, yet those watery eyes held an alluring charm. Combined with the scar, he exuded a blend of ferocity and allure.
Taras wasn't in a hurry to pull a woman into his arms. Instead, he placed a cigarette between his lips, taking a deep drag and exhaling clouds of smoke. Through the haze, he narrowed his eyes with a sultry intensity, meeting Arabella's gaze from across the room.
Arabella held his gaze for a moment before she, too, narrowed her eyes slightly.
Raven, who had been standing nearby observing, knew that this meant Arabella had taken an interest.
Halfway through his cigarette, Taras finally turned his gaze to the women seated nearby. With a casual grab, he pulled a slender, fair-skinned woman into his embrace.
It was hot, and he'd just finished unloading goods. He had already removed his jacket, leaving him in a fitted tank top, and his loose shorts did little to hide the large bulge at his crotch.
The woman in his arms wore a skirt with a high slit, revealing two fair, slender legs.
Taras pulled the woman against his waist, her back to him, then spread her legs, casually yanking up her skirt. The fabric tore, leaving her nearly half-naked.
"Ah—" she cried out in surprise, but Taras pinned her hands behind her back with one hand.
With his other hand, he tugged down his shorts, revealing his cock, still semi-soft yet thick and long, an impressive size. The head was a deep red, and the shaft darkened, with two heavy balls below, covered in dense, slightly curly hair. One look was enough to see he was a stallion type, driven by high libido and stamina.
After pulling down his shorts, Taras grabbed a condom from the scattered assortment on the table, tore it open with his teeth, and slipped it onto himself. He then yanked down the woman's panties, rolled them up, and stuffed them into her mouth with a rough squeeze.
"Don't spit it out," Taras ordered, his voice still soft and smooth.
With that, he reached down, gripping the top of her exposed slit, kneading and pressing, arousing her so that she, straddling him with her legs wide open, bit down on the panties in her mouth, moaning enticingly.
But Taras cast his gaze toward Arabella, who had been silent all along.
He was curious—was the woman sitting across from him, so still and composed, swayed by the lustful scene around her? Was she aroused?
He locked his gaze firmly on Arabella's face, and she responded in kind.
With a radiant smile, she looked down at Taras's crotch, raising an eyebrow to signal that he could proceed.
So, she wanted to watch him perform!
Taras, as if released from a seal, thrust his hips forward. Yet, once he entered, he didn't hammer away without finesse. Instead, he slowed, grinding and penetrating, causing the woman straddling him to moan repeatedly, squirming as if to move her own hips.
She bit down hard on the panties in her mouth, drooling slightly. Her spread legs revealed her dripping slit, completely exposed and glistening.
Arabella watched with interest, imagining Taras gripping his cock, thrusting powerfully, releasing in a flood.
She suddenly remembered it had been a long time since she'd encountered a stallion-like man, and Taras clearly caught her eye.
Taras's gaze missed none of Arabella's expressions, watching as the woman's smile reached its peak.
Those enticing watery eyes of his, slightly upturned at the corners, narrowed with a hint of danger, reaching a silent, perilous agreement with her across the room.
