novelapdf Chapter 480: Problem Arises—3
Chapter 480: Problem Arises—3
Archon Vyra felt a flicker of embarrassment she rarely allowed herself to show. The tight leather pants hung loose at her ankles, her bare feet exposed on the cold stone floor. She had failed twice already to put the boots on properly, the unfamiliar straps and buckles mocking her.
Loen noticed her pause. "Do you need help?"
The words left her mouth before she could stop them. "Yes."
Too fast. Her face flushed. Her own voice betrayed her relief, and she heard the unspoken question in it: Why didn’t you offer sooner? She would have been less embarrassed if he had. Now she stood half-dressed in front of him, her pride bruised.
Leon dropped to one knee without a word.
His hands moved with practiced precision. He loosened the boot’s laces, undid the leather strap across the ankle, and pulled the opening wide. Then he took her foot gently, his fingers wrapped around her heel.
"Lift your toes," he said.
She did.
Her foot slid inside. The leather hugged her calf, her ankle, every curve of her arch. It was tight. Perfect. He tightened the strap, cinched the laces, and set her foot down.
He reached for the other boot.
Vyra watched him the entire time. Her eyes followed every movement—where his fingers pulled, how he angled the boot, the exact tension of the strap. She was learning. The Earthwear wasn’t just clothing. It was equipment. It gave him advantages she couldn’t afford to ignore. She wouldn’t fall behind. Not again.
The second boot slid on just as smoothly. He secured it and looked up at her.
She took a step. Then another.
Unfamiliar. The leather clung to her feet like a second skin, tight and unyielding. Her walk felt stiff at first, mechanical. But the boots were light. Featherlight. The material moved with her, not against her. She shifted her weight, rolled her ankles, took a wider stance. Better. She would get used to this quickly. She knew it.
The testing of the new equipment became something else entirely. Another show for Leon.
With each step she took, each pivot and squat to test the flexibility, her body moved. The leather creaked. Her muscles shifted beneath the inner layer. Her chest bounced with every small movement. Her breasts were large, heavy, and barely contained by the thin undersuit. They swayed, jiggled, pressed against the fabric.
Leon watched.
And it was not the reason he had chosen the boots after the pants.
The shin guard came next. Light armor. He picked it up, and before he could hand it to her, she spoke.
"Do it for me."
He paused.
"I’ll just watch and learn this time. It’s faster."
Her thoughts were louder. I don’t want to embarrass myself again. I am the leader of my race, for fuck’s sake. I have already failed twice. Let him do it. I’ll watch. Then I’ll know.
The first time she saw him put them on, it looked easy. Now that she had to do it herself, it felt like a nightmare.
Leon nodded without hesitation. He continued.
He knelt again. The shin piece curved over her right leg, and he strapped it tight. Adjusted the fit. Checked the tension. Then the left.
After each piece, she tested it. Twisted her leg. Flexed her knee. Lifted her thigh to check the range of motion.
For her, it was testing the equipment.
For him, it was a heavenly sight.
Her thighs parted. Her hips shifted. Her breasts bounced. The undersuit clung to her skin like a wet layer of paint, outlining every curve. Every muscle. Every soft swell.
His self-control was iron. But his body did not listen. His pants grew tight.
He controlled his breathing. In. Out. Focus.
It seemed to be working.
The shin guards were done. Next, the thigh pieces.
He picked them up. He put them on her swiftly. Each piece wrapped around her upper leg, secured from behind with straps he tightened with quick, efficient pulls. His movement were precise. Only what was necessary.
But his thoughts were not.
This was intimate. Sensual. Her inner layer was thin. It was barely there. The difference between the fabric and her skin was almost nothing. Soft. Warm. When he reached behind her thigh to pull the strap, his fingers brushed against her flesh. Through the fabric, yes. But it was her. He could feel the heat of her body.
He was not doing it on purpose. But sometimes, it was necessary.
She tested the thigh guards. Raised her knee high. Rotated her hip. Squatted.
Another show.
Her upper body was exposed. The undersuit covered her torso, but it did nothing to hide her shape. Her breasts were massive. Full. Round. They jiggled with every movement, bouncing freely, unrestrained by anything but the thin layer clinging to them.
Leon’s jaw tightened.
He continued.
The waist piece connected everything. It covered her sides, wrapped around her lower back, and sat over her ass cheeks. Not fully covered—the undersuit remained underneath for mobility. The armor framed her, shaped her, hugged her curves.
The lower body was done.
Only the top remained.
Leon picked it up. He held it in his hands and looked at her.
His mind played the same thought over and over. This is where she tells me to stop. This is where she takes over. This is too much.
But she didn’t.
She stood there. Waiting. Watching.
He took a step forward.
"Raise your arms," he said.
She did.
He stepped closer. The distance between them shrank. His chest nearly touched hers. The top was in his hands, and he lifted it toward her shoulders.
Between her nipple and his face, there were only inches.
And that was generous.
Her breasts pushed forward, filling the space. They were huge. Juicy. Heavy. The undersuit did nothing to hide their shape. They pressed against the fabric, begging to be free.
His face was at the same level as them.
He gulped.
This is just teaching. Nothing more. She needs to learn how to wear it next time. That is all. It is a bit sensual, that is all.
He pulled the top up. His hands moved along her sides. The fabric slid over her shoulders. He reached around her back to secure the clasps.
His arms wrapped around her.
His face was inches from her chest.
Her breath was warm on his forehead.
His fingers fumbled. Just slightly.
He secured the clasps. Pulled the straps. Adjusted the fit.
Step back.
Done.
She looked down at herself. The top covered her torso, shaped her chest, held everything in place. She lifted her arms. Twisted. Rolled her shoulders.
Good.
Leon stood there. His heart pounded. His pants were tight. His face was hot.
She looked at him. "What’s next?"
Leon cleared his throat slightly. The sound was small, but in the quiet of the mountain chamber, it echoed against the stone walls.
"Put your arms through the two holes at the top," he said, his voice steady and professional. "It’s not a full sleeve. It’ll only go up to your upper biceps."
Vyra nodded, her red eyes fixed on the inner suit he held in his hands. The material was dark, almost black, with a subtle sheen that caught the light from the scales embedded in the red dragon’s body, a couple of meters away. She slipped her arms through the openings, the fabric cool against her skin.
Then her head went through the bigger hole.