Chapter 508: Chapter 508

I was barely listening to them. Jasmine’s foot was doing things that should have been illegal. She had me trapped between her arches, twisting her foot slightly so the skin rubbed against the sensitive underside of my shaft. Every time a bomb went off in the movie, she’d give me a sharp, sudden squeeze that made my vision blur.

I reached down, my hand wrapping around her foot, helping her guide the movement. I tightened her foot on my dick, pulling her closer until her heel was jammed against my pelvic bone. The friction was becoming intense, a white-hot buildup that I knew I couldn’t hold back for much longer.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Jasmine whispered, her voice dropping into a dirty, private register that the other girls weren’t supposed to hear.

“Yeah,” I choked out, my jaw clenched. “Don’t stop. Just like that.”

She increased the speed, her toes curling and uncurling over the head as she worked me over. The lazy vibe of the room had shifted into something much more charged, even if the others were pretending not to notice the way I was clutching the cushions.

“Jasmine, lean forward a bit,” I muttered, my voice breaking.

She didn’t miss a beat. While keeping her foot locked around me, she folded her body forward, her long hair fanning out over her knees. She reached out and grabbed my hands, her fingers interlocking with mine as she pulled herself closer. She opened her mouth and took the head in, her tongue swirling around the tip while her foot kept up that frantic, sliding pressure at the base.

The double sensation was the end of me. I let out a long, shattered groan, my back arching off the couch as I finally blew. I came hard, my body jerking as I poured into her mouth, and Jasmine didn’t flinch. She took every drop, her throat moving in a slow, steady swallow while her foot gave me one last, firm squeeze to milk out the rest.

She stayed there for a second, her tongue catching the last of the heat, before she finally sat back and wiped her mouth with the back of her thumb. She looked totally casual, as if she’d just finished a snack instead of finishing me off in front of the whole house.

“Better?” she asked, a smug glint in her eyes.

“Much,” I panted, my heart still trying to hammer its way out of my chest.

I looked around the room. Minne was still curled up with the cat, Nala was heading toward the kitchen for more water, and Kim was arguing with Tessa about which horror movie to put on next. It was just another day in the penthouse… and I liked every second of it.

I reached down, slowly pulling my boxers and pants back up, feeling that heavy, warm afterglow sink into my bones. “You’re a menace, Jasmine,” I said, finally catching my breath.

“And you love it,” she replied, leaning back and closing her eyes, a satisfied smile on her face as the movie credits finally began to roll.

Jasmine had practically melted into the upholstery, her back pressed against the far armrest and her head lolled back. Her long legs were draped over mine, her bare right foot tucked inside the waistband of my unbuttoned pants, lazily working my dick with her arch.

It was a slow, effortless friction. I wasn’t even looking at her; I was just staring at the screen, my hands resting casually on her thighs. I squeezed the firm muscle of her quad, then slid my hand down to circle her ankle, my thumb tracing the bone. It was domestic, quiet, and dirty all at once.

“That logistics report for Monday is going to be a nightmare,” Jasmine murmured, her voice vibrating with a low, sleepy hum as her toes curled around the head of my shaft. “If the snow doesn’t clear, we’re looking at a thirty-percent delay on the tech units.”

“Mmm,” I grunted, my hips giving a small, involuntary hitch against her sole. “We’ll deal with it then. For now, just… keep doing that.”

Suddenly, something felt off. It wasn’t the movie. It was a vibration, a muffled, jagged sound that didn’t fit the rhythm of the film.

I froze, my hand tightening on Jasmine’s ankle.

“Evan?” she whispered, her foot pausing its rhythmic slide.

I didn’t answer. I waited, straining my ears. A moment passed, the cinematic gunfire fading into a tense orchestral swell, and then I heard it again. A sharp, crashing sound followed by a muffled, angry shout. It wasn’t coming from the speakers. It was coming from the floorboards.

I reached for the remote on the coffee table and punched the pause button. The screen froze on a soldier mid-scream, an after credits scene, and the apartment fell into a sudden, ringing silence.

“Hey!” Tessa complained from the other couch, snapping out of her daze. “Just when the most exciting part was coming! Put it back on.”

“Ssh,” I hissed, holding up a hand. “Listen.”

We all sat there, frozen. For a few seconds, there was nothing but the hum of the heater. Then, it came again—a dull thud from directly below us, followed by the unmistakable sound of a man’s voice, raised in a jagged, ugly yell. It was coming from Eleanor’s place.

“Is that… downstairs?” Kim asked, her phone slipping from her hand onto the cushions.

“Yeah,” I muttered, my jaw tightening. The shouting continued, followed by the sound of something glass shattering against a wall. It was Eleanor’s brother. I knew that voice—the desperate, high-pitched edge of a gambling addict who had run out of luck and was looking for someone to blame.

I stood up abruptly, the sudden movement making Jasmine’s legs slide off my lap. I didn’t even bother buttoning my fly properly as I grabbed my heavy jacket from the back of the chair and threw it on.

“Where are you going?” Jasmine asked, sitting up straight, her eyes wide with concern.

“Eleanor,” I said, my voice cold. “Her brother is back. He’s a mess, and it sounds like he’s losing it over more money. I’m going down there to check on her. I’ll be right back, don’t worry.”

“O-okay… be careful.”

I looked over at Nala, who was already standing by the kitchen counter, sensing the shift in the room. “Nala, can you call the building security?”

Nala didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her phone from the counter and gave me a sharp, determined nod. “On it. Be careful, Evan.”

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