Please Don’t Sponsor the Guide - Chapter 39

Curious what happens next? Read more here

“What…? Ah!”

Samuel’s mouth closed over Adrien’s b****t, almost biting but mostly just enveloping it.

The sudden stimulation almost made Adrien cry out again, but she bit back the sound. Samuel watched her every reaction with a hungry gaze, then tugged down her last piece of underwear.

Adrien trembled with relief, hands threading through Samuel’s hair—a clear sign of permission.

Samuel wasted no time, taking Adrien’s b****t fully into his mouth. The pleasure shot through her body, so intense it almost seemed to run straight down her spine. Her back kept arching under Samuel’s strong but gentle hands, and she gasped for air.

Samuel devoured her with the hunger of a man who’d been starving. His soft tongue teased her, circling and flicking her n****e until her toes curled.

Adrien almost grabbed his shoulder too hard but caught herself at the last second, bracing against the wall instead. She was wound so tightly she could hardly keep still.

Even with a roof overhead, the two of them were more soaked than if they’d been out in the rain. Adrien’s whole body burned with wanting—she just wanted release, wanted this ache to end.

But Samuel was technically still a patient. Adrien barely held herself back from grinding recklessly against him. She let out a shuddering sigh, trying to calm herself.

Maybe that sigh was all Samuel needed. Suddenly, he grabbed Adrien’s hips and began to grind her down against his thigh, more specifically against the hard line of his e******n.

“Mm—!”

Adrien clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her moan, fighting to keep herself from moving on instinct. But Samuel just pressed her harder against himself, making her even more desperate.

Apparently unsatisfied, Samuel lifted his thigh even higher, and Adrien had to brace herself on his shoulders to keep her balance.

“Wait, Ensign, your ankle—!”

Her words were cut off by his ragged breathing and the wild look in his eyes—he was feverish with need. Her hand flew to his forehead. He was burning up.

“Ensign Samuel.”

“Commander, should I undress you?”

Samuel’s hands slipped under her and lifted her. In the urgent motion, Adrien’s hand slid across his chest, brushing the hard peak of his n****e, which made Samuel groan softly.

The sheer wave of excitement from the guiding energy from him snapped something inside Adrien. She stopped thinking about his condition; all that mattered was him.

Adrien bit down on Samuel’s lips, and they became tangled in a messy, desperate kiss. With one hand, she steadied herself against the wall, with the other she gripped his jaw, pulling him deeper.

Samuel looked like he was about to be devoured.

Adrien kissed him like she wanted to consume every part of him, twisting her head, her tongue driving into his mouth until he shivered. Now she was grinding herself against him, moving her hips without restraint, rubbing herself against the thick ridge beneath her, making sure to press right where she wanted it.

Every time her c**t was crushed between them, it felt like molten heat racing through her body. The feeling kept building until finally, a shuddering climax overtook her.

“Ah—!”

Adrien froze, legs trembling as she rode out the wave. And then Samuel’s hands fell away from her hips.

“…Ensign?”

Suddenly worried, Adrien looked down. Samuel’s head lolled to the side—he’d passed out.

Her lips, swollen and red, curved into a helpless, rueful smile.

“…Seriously.”

* * *

Samuel was diagnosed with guiding depletion when he returned safely. It was a sudden collapse after using too much energy in his already weakened state.

Adrien watched him lying in the infirmary, lost in thought.

“…9,230, huh.”

Both guiding and psychic power could be measured with numbers. The numbers determined one’s level: Gold was 10,000 to 30,000; Silver, 5,000 to under 10,000.

Linton’s score, as a Gold-level, was over 21,000—more than double Samuel’s. Even Linton had gotten sick after guiding Adrien for too long.

How hard must it have been for Samuel, then?

“…I’m a beast.”

Adrien muttered, raking a hand through her hair.

She’d tried to restrain herself, but it hadn’t been easy. She had no idea how that awkward young man managed to shake her so deeply.

Or maybe she did know.

Those green eyes, so poisonous and inviting under his lashes, always made her feel as if she were slipping deeper into some intoxicating abyss—especially now.

“Are you awake?”

“…Why are you here?”

“You can’t seriously think I’m not allowed to visit you.”