QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL) Chapter 97: Stay like this [M]

Evelyn POV

"Look at ," she says.

And I do.

I can barely breathe, barely think. My eyes lock with hers, and I feel like I’m standing on the edge of sothing I can’t na. My cheeks are flushed, skin overheated. It’s daylight. We’re in a moving carriage. Every part of this is reckless—and I’ve never felt more alive.

The carriage jolts over uneven road and I nearly fall forward, but her arm holds steady, pressing flush against her body.

Her hand trails slowly down my waist, grazing the curve of my stomach, lower, until—

She drags her fingers through slick heat and lifts them up.

"Look at this," she murmurs, lifting her hand so I can see it glisten in the dim carriage light.

"Aren’t you excited? Being so wet... in broad daylight?"

I cover my face, mortified.

She chuckles low in her throat.

"So shy now, Duchess?" she teases, pressing her body closer, knee braced between my legs as she leans in to kiss the corner of my mouth.

"But you weren’t shy a mont ago."

My breath stutters. "Don’t tease ," I whisper, voice trembling.

"How can I not, when you give the cutest reactions?"

She kisses properly then, slow and deep, as if she’s savoring every second of my humiliation.

Her fingers return with maddening precision, slow at first—

teasing. Exploring, anything but giving relief.

My hips twitch in response before I can control the reaction. I grip her shoulders, desperate for sothing to ground .

"You’re trembling," she murmurs, against my lips and moves to my ear.

"So sensitive today... even more than usual."

Her free hand slips from my waist, traveling up to cup the side of my thumb stroking along my jawline, then moves lower to my neck , lower tracing a path along my collarbone, before dipping lower until her palm covers my bare chest. She groans low at the contact, and the sound alone is enough to steal the air from my lungs.

"Perfect," she murmurs, thumb brushing over my nipple, slow and deliberate.

"You’re perfect."

"Daphne..." I whisper her na, unable to form coherent thoughts beneath the onslaught of sensations she’s awakening in .

Then she kisses —hard. Deep. Possessive. I gasp into her mouth and she takes the sound like a gift.

She spends so much ti teasing and stroking until I’m writhing on her lap.

When she slides a finger inside , I cry out in pleasure, my hips bucking against her touch. It’s too much, and yet not enough. She seems to sense this, for she increases the pace, her thumb rubbing gently against my clit in perfect rhythm.

I gasp as she adds another finger, and another stretching further than I ever thought possible.

My body trembles from the effort, and still, she doesn’t stop. She watches intently, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

The wheels clatter over a stone, jerking the carriage again, and I cry out—not just from the motion but from the way her fingers slide in at the exact mont, the sensation crashing through .

The carriage rocks again, and this ti I fall back against her lap, arms slipping around her neck as she thrusts her fingers deeper, kissing until I’m lightheaded.

Her mouth travels lower, across my jaw, down my throat. Her teeth scrape lightly against the sensitive skin there, making cry out again.

The carriage is still moving, still rattling on, and anyone outside would only hear the clip-clop of hooves and creak of wood—but inside, it feels like the whole world has narrowed to just us.

She kisses again, desperate now, her mouth finding mine with more hunger than before—teeth grazing my bottom lip before she pulls it gently, coaxing another sound from deep in my throat.

My fingers tangle in her hair, pulling her closer, and she follows the motion gladly, swallowing my gasps like she’s starved for them.

Her lips don’t stay still. They trail to my cheek, then my jaw, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses that make my skin ignite. Then lower still, along the line of my throat, just under my ear, where I’m most sensitive. I shudder when she lingers there, teasing with a soft bite that borders on reverent.

I can barely think.

The carriage rocks again and I jolt, breath catching—but she’s there, steady, anchoring in her arms. Her hands roam with bold purpose now, sliding over the curve of my waist, back up to cup my chest with a sort of gentleness that only makes the ache worse.

She kisses the hollow of my throat and then lower, over the swell of my breast, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

"Don’t hold back," she says, voice low.

"Let hear you."

I shake my head frantically, but it’s too late. My body betrays , arching into her touch. The pressure of her palm, the way her wrist moves just right—it’s a storm I can’t escape, and I don’t want to.

Her mouth returns to my neck, planting soft, burning kisses as she keeps moving, keeps coaxing. The rhythm is unrelenting now—controlled, practiced, and devastating. My nails dig into her shirt. She groans at the pain, and that sound nearly undoes .

"Daphne..." I gasp. It cos out more like a plea.

She lifts her head to look at , eyes dark and burning. "I’ve got you," she says.

"Co for , Evelyn. Let see go."

Sothing snaps inside , and I’m lost to the mont. The pleasure builds and builds until I can’t stand it anymore.

I scream Daphne’s na as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over , my body quaking with the intensity of it all.

My hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact, more friction.

"Please... Daphne..." I whimper. "Please..."

And then she thrusts her fingers deeper inside , hitting that spot that sends spiraling over the edge. I scream her na as wave after wave of pleasure washes over , pulling us both further into the depths of our desires.

It’s too much.

I fall apart in her arms, a trembling ss of sensation and release. I bury my face in her shoulder, my moan muffled, my dignity lost sowhere along the road.

But she holds through it—firm, steady. Her fingers gentle now, easing

down from the high she pulled to.

"I want to stay like this," I whisper.

She just holds tighter.