[PATREON EXCLUSIVE] ADA WONG'S REWARD

You don’t know how she did it—only that it happened in a blink.

A sharp sting, a spinning world, and the next thing you know, you’re no bigger than her lipstick tube, sprawled helpless on the cool tile floor of a darkened safehouse bathroom.

And she’s standing over you.
Heels off, black dress hiked just above her thighs, blood-red lips curved in a slow, wicked smile. Her skin is still flushed from the mission—her hair tousled, a bead of sweat gliding down her neck.

“Look at you,” Ada purrs, crouching with feline grace, the slit in her dress revealing smooth, endless leg. Her gloved hand scoops you up, pinching your body between two fingers. “Did you really think you could follow me and get away with it?”

Her breath is warm as she brings you to her face. Those smoky eyes—sharp as a knife—glint in the dim light, so close you can see the faint trace of her mascara. She turns you in her grip, studying you with languid delight, as if admiring a rare jewel.

“I have to say…” she murmurs, her voice silk over steel, “I was looking forward to this.”

She presses you, slick with fear and sweat, against her lips—slow, savoring, tasting. Her mouth is soft, warm, and impossibly huge. She could end it now, but Ada Wong is never in a hurry.

Instead, she stands and glides to the bed, settling herself in a sprawl of silk sheets and shadows, legs spread, dress falling from her shoulders. She lets you dangle over her chest, just above the swell of her breasts.

Her skin is salty and faintly perfumed, her body impossibly massive. You squirm as she traces your back down her collarbone, pressing you between her cleavage. Her fingers are strong—there’s no escape, not even as you thrash. All you do is make her sigh, her lips curling into a deeper smirk.

“You’re so small. So helpless,” she whispers. She pinches your legs and drags you slowly down her body, over the hard plane of her stomach, until you’re pressed against the lace of her panties. You can feel the damp heat, the quickening pulse beneath the fabric.

She shudders, exhaling a low, throaty moan.

“Did you know I get like this after a mission?” Ada breathes. “All that adrenaline…all that tension…and no one to take it out on. Until now.”

She pulls her panties aside with one hand, revealing slick, flushed folds, glistening with anticipation. She brings you close—close enough to feel the humidity, to taste her on the air.

Ada bites her lip, watching you squirm. “Let’s see if you’re as fun as you look.”

She rubs you against her entrance, rolling your body up and down her folds, coating you in her wetness. Her hips rock, every tiny movement of yours making her moan louder, her thighs flexing. The scent is overwhelming—musk, sweat, perfume.

Then she presses you forward. The world turns hot, dark, and slick. Her sex parts around you, velvet and impossible, swallowing you up to your waist with a slow, insistent pulse.

She groans, her voice a trembling, hungry thing. “Struggle for me,” Ada commands, her free hand rubbing herself, her core clenching around your form.

Inside, the pressure is unreal—soft and wet, but merciless. Each twitch of your body draws another moan from Ada, each breathless gasp making her squeeze you harder, drag you deeper. The sound of her heartbeat is deafening. Her hips buck and roll, trapping you in a world of hot, slippery muscle, her juices soaking you, marking you as hers.

She works herself, using you shamelessly—her toy, her trophy, her reward. Her rhythm grows faster, rougher, and soon you’re plunged deeper, every inch of you squeezed and massaged by the eager grip of her walls.

“God, yes…” Ada hisses, her voice tight. “You feel so good. So much better than a bullet to the head, don’t you think?”

She grinds you inside her until she finally comes—a shuddering, violent climax, her inner muscles clenching so hard you’re crushed in place, soaked in her pleasure.

When she finally pulls you out, you’re dripping, trembling, barely able to move.
Ada brings you to her lips, licking her own slick from your body, savoring the taste with a satisfied, predatory glint in her eyes.

“You did well, little spy.” She traces your cheek with her tongue, then—slowly, deliberately—opens her mouth wide.

Her breath is hot, sweet with arousal and lipstick. You stare into the pink, glistening darkness, the gentle ridges of her tongue, the perfect white of her teeth.

Ada smiles, cruel and beautiful.

“I always clean up after myself.”

She places you on her tongue and closes her lips, sealing you in darkness. The heat is stifling. Her tongue rolls you back, smothering you in slick, tasting every inch.

She swallows—slowly, savoring—her throat contracting in powerful waves, drawing you down into the furnace of her body.

For a moment, you can hear her heartbeat all around you, feel her victorious sigh as she rubs her throat with a satisfied smirk.

Inside her, you’re claimed completely. Ada licks her lips, already thinking about her next mission, her next pleasure, knowing you’re hers forever—utterly devoured.

Even as the world fades to heat and darkness, you realize there are far worse fates than being caught by Ada Wong...

Because despite the fear you feel, the pain of being dissolved away inside her gut, in heat and darkness...you can't help but be aroused...