Chapter 951: Elevator Ass Pinch

We stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft

ding

that felt louder than it should in the heavy silence. The small space immediately filled with too many bodies—Jayden at the front, broad shoulders blocking most of the panel; Lorena beside him, still pinching her nose with a faint grimace.

Gabriela close behind, thighs pressed so tightly together I could see the faint tremble in her legs; Julie beside her, composed but radiating that quiet, predatory satisfaction; Yuko under my arm, small frame supporting my weight like it was her sacred duty; and Ema on my other side, mirroring Yuko’s position, her cheek almost brushing my shoulder as she tried not to look at anyone.

I leaned heavily into Yuko—enough to make it look convincing—my left arm draped around her shoulders, fingers resting lightly on her collarbone. Her damp hair brushed my wrist; she smelled like hospital soap and lingering guilt.

With my right hand—hidden by the angle of my body—I reached forward and pinched Lorena’s ass through her skirt.

Hard.

Fingers digging into the soft, plump flesh of her cheek, twisting viciously just under the curve where it met her thigh.

Lorena’s entire body stiffened—but she didn’t yelp. Didn’t jump. Didn’t even turn her head. Only the tiniest hitch in her breathing betrayed her, a sharp inhale through flared nostrils. Her thighs clenched together; her free hand twitched at her side like she wanted to swat me but knew better. She kept staring straight ahead at the elevator numbers, cheeks slowly turning pink, lips pressed into a thin line.

Yuko—pressed against my left side—didn’t notice a thing. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, brows furrowed, still lost in her own spiral of shame.

[He’s leaning on me... trusting me... even after what I did... I don’t deserve this...]

I twisted harder—just for a second—then released. Lorena let out the softest, most strangled exhale, thighs shifting as if trying to soothe the sting without anyone seeing.

The elevator dinged again—ground floor.

Doors opened.

We filed out—Jayden leading, Lorena walking stiffly ahead of me, Gabriela wobbling slightly behind Julie, Yuko and Ema still supporting my arms like devoted nurses.

The hospital lobby smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee—blessedly masking the lingering sex-stink that clung to our group.

A few nurses glanced our way, but their eyes slid off us like water on glass. My telepathic grip on the staff was ironclad; no one would question the wet patch on Gabriela’s skirt, the faint handprint blooming under Lorena’s fabric, or why Ema’s lips still looked swollen.

Outside, the black SUVs waited—two of them, tinted windows, drivers already standing at attention.

Jayden opened the rear door of the first one.

"Let’s take you to the hotel," he said, voice gruff but relieved. "There’ll be people to take care of you. Full medical suite, security, everything. You’ll be comfortable."

I nodded—slow, tired, playing the part perfectly.

Then I glanced at Gabriela—her face still flushed, eyes glassy, skirt clinging wetly to her thighs—and thought of Samantha for half a heartbeat before speaking.

"Let’s go to the Marriott Hotel. I stayed there before. It was quite good."

Jayden didn’t question it. Just grunted and waved the driver over.

"Marriott it is."

We piled in—me in the middle of the back seat, Yuko on my left, Ema on my right, both still "helping" me like fragile invalids.

Gabriela, Julie, Lorena, and Jayden took the second SUV behind us.

The car pulled out smoothly.

Then Yuko—voice small—broke the silence.

"Jack... are you comfortable? Do you need water? Or... or painkillers?"

Her hand rested lightly on my knee—innocent, caring, trembling slightly.

I covered her hand with mine, squeezing gently.

"I’m okay. Just glad you’re here."

She blushed—eyes dropping to our joined hands.

Soon we reached the Marriott Hotel—sleek, modern, the kind of place that smelled like money and fresh linens instead of hospital antiseptic and lingering sin.

The SUVs pulled up under the covered entrance; doormen in crisp uniforms stepped forward immediately, already briefed (telepathically or otherwise) that no questions were to be asked, no extra staff assigned unless I said so.

Jayden handled the check-in formalities in under two minutes—the presidential suite was already booked, keys waiting, elevator held open.

I was helped out of the car—still playing the part of the injured man—leaning on Yuko’s small frame on one side and Ema’s steadier grip on the other. Gabriela walked ahead, steps careful and slightly bow-legged, her skirt still clinging damply to her thighs.

Every few steps, a fresh trickle of my cum would escape her stuffed pussy, sliding down her inner leg in a slow, creamy line she tried to hide by pressing her thighs together.

Lorena and Julie flanked her—Julie’s arm looped casually through Gabriela’s like a supportive sister, though her fingers occasionally brushed the wet patch on the back of Gabriela’s skirt, making the older woman whimper under her breath.

Jayden led the way through the lobby—stone-faced, scanning every face like he expected assassins behind the potted palms. No one stared too long; my subtle influence on the staff made sure of that.

The private elevator ride to the top floor was silent except for Gabriela’s soft, shaky breathing and the occasional wet

plip

of cum hitting the marble floor beneath her. Yuko—still holding my arm—kept her eyes down, guilt and exhaustion warring on her face.

The suite doors opened—sprawling living room, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, king-sized bed visible through open double doors, already turned down with extra pillows. A medical tray waited discreetly on the side table—bandages, painkillers, bottled water—everything pre-arranged.

I let Yuko and Ema guide me to the edge of the bed. I sat—slowly, deliberately—then looked up at the group clustered around me: Julie standing with that calm, knowing smile; Lorena hovering like a worried sister; Gabriela leaning against the wall, thighs still trembling; Ema near the door, hands clasped in front of her; and Yuko—still clinging to my arm like she was afraid I’d vanish if she let go.

I cleared my throat, voice calm but firm.

"You guys can go back and take care of things. We should be leaving soon... I’m fine here."

Lorena frowned instantly. "We’re not leaving you alone—"

Julie cut in smoothly, already moving toward the door. "He’s right. The suite’s secure. Medical team’s on call. Let him rest properly. We’ll handle the logistics outside."

Jayden nodded—reluctant but accepting. "I’ll post two men in the hallway. Anything feels off, you call."

I looked at Yuko last—her hand still on my arm, eyes wide and determined.

"Sister Yuko... you should go back and take a rest too. You must be tired."

She shook her head immediately—small, stubborn. "No... I’m not tired. I want to stay... make sure you’re okay... after everything I did..."

Her voice cracked on the last words—guilt thick enough to taste.