Divine Milking System

Chapter 414: 414 | The Cherry-Scented Ultimatum

Fifteen minutes had passed since Addison left. I knew this because the System kept perfect time even when my brain couldn’t. The rattling continued, accompanied by what sounded like someone wrestling with an armful of objects while trying to operate a door handle with an elbow.

The door swung open.

Addison stood in the hallway wearing a long black trench coat that reached her mid-calves. The coat was buttoned to the throat, cinched at the waist with a belt, and fell in heavy folds that concealed everything underneath from collar to ankle. Her combat boots peeked out from the bottom hem. Her purple-highlighted hair had been pulled into a tighter bun since she’d left, and she’d reapplied her black lipstick with the speed and commitment of someone who considered cosmetics a form of combat readiness.

She carried a plastic bag from the hospital gift shop in one hand. With the other hand, she clicked the door shut behind her, turned the lock, and pulled the privacy curtain across the window in three consecutive motions that suggested she’d rehearsed this in the hallway.

"Okay." She dropped the plastic bag on the chair. "Open up that private sanctum of yours so we can save your pathetic ass."

I blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She walked toward the bed with the specific kind of walk that meant she’d already decided how this conversation was going to end and was merely allowing me to catch up. Her violet contacts glowed in the fluorescent hospital light, and the trench coat swished around her legs with each step. "Aurora called me forty minutes ago. Told me about your little lifespan situation. The dying-in-thirty-hours thing."

"Aurora told you about that."

"Aurora tells me everything, Monroe. Everything. Including the part where you need to drink from someone to not die." Addison stopped at the foot of my bed and crossed her arms over the trench coat. "She also told me the thing about the orgasms. And the buffs. And the devotion percentages. She told me all of it because she’s been crying for three days straight thinking you were dead and she’s currently stuck in a gate killing B-rank lizards for a guild that doesn’t deserve her, and she called me because I’m the only person she trusts to do what needs to be done when she can’t be here to do it herself."

The cherry lollipop was gone. Addison’s mouth was set in a hard line that made her look older than eighteen and meaner than the dimension we’d just escaped.

"So here’s what’s going to happen." She unbuttoned the top button of the trench coat. "You’re going to activate that pocket dimension thing. The one with the candles and the fake city and the bed with the wine sheets. You’re going to bring me inside. And I’m going to let you drink from me until your stupid death clock isn’t counting down to zero anymore."

"Addison."

"Shut up. I’m not finished." She unbuttoned the second button. The collar parted enough to reveal the base of her throat and the beginning of pale skin that disappeared downward into shadow. "I know what this looks like. I know you’re thinking I’m doing this because Aurora asked me to. And yeah, she asked. But she didn’t have to."

Third button. The trench coat fell open another inch. Beneath it, I caught a sliver of black lace against white skin.

"I’ve been thinking about the farmhouse since you put me in it." Addison’s voice dropped lower. Not softer. Lower. Like the bass note of a song that you feel in your chest before you hear it. "I’ve been thinking about the blindfold. The phantom touches. The way you said my name like it was the first word you ever learned. I’ve been thinking about it when I wake up, when I train, when I’m eating lunch, when I’m trying to sleep and instead I’m staring at the ceiling of my stupid coffin bed remembering what your mouth felt like on my skin."

Fourth button. The trench coat gaped open across her stomach, revealing a strip of pale flesh bisected by a navel piercing that caught the overhead light.

"So you can save the noble sacrifice routine for someone who buys it." Addison leaned forward. Her breath smelled like cherry candy and expensive anger. "I’m not here because I’m selfless. I’m here because I want you alive so I can keep feeling the way you make me feel. That’s selfish. That’s honest. And that’s all you’re getting."

She straightened up. Her fingers pulled the belt. The knot gave way.

The trench coat fell open.

Black lace underneath. Nothing else. Not a shirt. Not shorts. Not a single concession to practicality or public decency. Just a strapless bra that put in honest work against her 36F chest without managing total victory, matching panties cut high on her hips, garter straps running down her pale thighs to sheer black stockings. The kind of outfit that made people question their life choices. The kind of outfit that got you arrested on the subway.

Pale skin. Dark lace. Sharp lines where fabric met flesh. Her body was the kind that got immortalized in Renaissance paintings and modern rap videos for different but equally valid reasons. Curves that demanded attention and got it. Hips that made tailors cry. A waist that proved the universe had a sense of humor about proportion.

Her navel piercing caught the fluorescent light again. A small silver skull dangling from the bar, because of course Addison’s body jewelry had death motifs.

She’d walked through a hospital wearing nothing but a trench coat and lingerie.

I looked at Addison Baxter standing at the foot of my hospital bed in lingerie that cost more than my monthly stipend, her violet eyes burning with something that lived on the border between fury and want, her black lipstick freshly applied like war paint, her body on full display without apology or hesitation.

The System pulsed in my vision.

LIFESPAN: 1D 4H 52M

"Well?" Addison planted her hands on her hips. The movement pushed her chest forward and the bra strap slid half an inch down her shoulder.

"Are you going to open the stupid sex dimension or are you going to lie there and die like a bitch? Because I didn’t walk through a hospital lobby in a trench coat and garter belt to watch you contemplate the ceiling."

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