Nina's face burnt brighter, her body trembling as she shifted slightly, the spheres inside her responding with the faintest of movements. Her vulnerability felt sharper than ever, the weight of his gaze—and now the lens—amplifying every sensation coursing through her.
She turned her head, her lips parting as though to protest, but the look in his eyes silenced her. There was no judgement there, no demand, only quiet encouragement and an unspoken reverence that made her feel seen in a way that transcended words.
Her breaths were shallow, her body tingling with anticipation as she gripped the counter more firmly. The cool steel inside her was a vivid presence, shifting gently as her body adjusted. The remaining weight was a constant reminder of how open she was, how vulnerable she had allowed herself to be in Kafka's care.
