Her gasp cut through the charged air like breaking glass—sharp, involuntary, completely beyond her control.
Dominique's hand shot out, gripping the edge of the chaise lounge as her body trembled with aftershocks she hadn't earned through physical touch. Just presence. Just my abilities settling into the room like divine judgment, flooding her senses with that primal musk until her pussy clenched and wept in helpless surrender.
"The—" Her voice cracked, and she had to stop, breathe, try again. Professional composure shattered into a thousand pieces she couldn't reassemble. "The women's satisfaction test is over."
I smiled. Didn't move. Didn't need to.
Her chest heaved with post-climax quivering—thighs pressed together, skin flushed that beautiful crimson that meant complete surrender, eyes unfocused like she'd just witnessed something religious, her pussy still pulsing with phantom throbs, slick soaking through her panties in a shameful flood.
