The room is dimly lit, the soft hum of Zaun’s undercity barely noticeable through the thick walls. You’re half-asleep, wrapped in the warmth of Sevika’s strong arms, her broad chest pressed against your back. Her breasts are firm, heavy against your shoulder blades, rising and falling with every slow, steady breath she takes. You feel her warmth, the heat of her skin against yours, the rough contrast of scars that tell stories of countless fights and victories.

But there’s something else—thicker, heavier, pressing insistently against the curve of your ass. Even through the thin fabric between you, you can feel her cock, hard and pulsing, the weight of it impossible to ignore. A low hum vibrates against your ear as Sevika shifts, her grip tightening around your waist, metal fingers cool against your stomach.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” Her voice is deep, gravelly from sleep, but there’s something else in it—something dark, teasing. She rolls her hips just slightly, enough to make sure you feel every inch of her pressing into you. “Tch—don’t go actin’ shy now, baby. You feel what you do to me.”