Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 507: Diana’s Anxious Worry

Diana’s fingers dug into my arm as she exclaimed, "Dexter, let go—!"

"N-No—!" I retorted, my voice rough and my face contorted in a display of stubborn, pitiful defiance.

"I won’t let you—! I can do this—!" My leg threatened to give out, my knee smacking against the step, yet I pushed myself upward, the suitcase scraping along behind me as if it were bolted to the ground.

Diana’s face drained of color. "Oh my god—! You stubborn—!"

Finally reaching the top, I collapsed onto my knees, the suitcase toppling beside me. My chest heaved, my breaths came in ragged gasps, and my entire body was slick with perspiration. I lifted my gaze to hers, my eyes wide and pleading, my lips parted as I struggled for air.

"I—I did it..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

Diana loomed over me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her fingers pressed to her mouth. For a drawn-out moment, she simply observed—her gaze shifting between my pathetic, quivering frame and the luggage I had so arduously transported.

Then, gradually, her hardened expression began to falter.

"Dexter..." Her voice dropped to a soft, horrified murmur as her hand reached out towards me.

"You—! You idiot—!" She dropped to her knees beside me, retrieving a handkerchief and immediately dabbing at my forehead. "You should’ve just—! Oh god—! You’re completely drenched—!"

I let my head fall, my breathing still ragged, my body trembling from manufactured exhaustion. "I—I had to..." I mumbled, my voice weak and pathetic.

Diana’s hand shook as she wiped my face, her touch gentle, her eyes swimming with genuine remorse. "I didn't mean it..." Her voice cracked. "I was only teasing... I didn't realize—!"

I glanced at her—truly observed her—noting her nervous expression, the way her lips pressed together, the sincere regret shining in her eyes. Then, I let out a soft, low chuckle, abandoning the pretense.

"Okay, okay..." I grinned, shaking my head. "I was just teasing you, too..."

Diana blinked, then frowned, her cheeks flushing crimson as the realization dawned that she had been deceived. "You—! Ugh—!" She huffed, crossing her arms, though a slight twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her annoyance. "Just putting on a show..." she muttered under her breath, "Making it seem like you're struggling even with those light bags...!"

I offered no reply, merely smirking as I turned towards the door. "I'll be in my room..." I cast a glance back at her, my tone casual, but my eyes held a certain warmth. "Once you're ready, I'll take you out."

Diana hesitated, her expression softening. "Where is your mother?"

"She's occupied in the office." I leaned against the doorframe, my arms folded. "She won't be back until evening..." I gave a slight shrug, a slow smile spreading across my face. "So, it's just you and me."

Her gaze flickered to mine, lingering for a moment longer than necessary, a fleeting, unreadable emotion crossing her features. "Then I suppose..." She smiled, her playful demeanor returning, "You're my guide for today."

I nodded, pushing away from the doorframe. "Get ready. I'll be waiting."

Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a brief moment, a smirk playing on my lips.

This was going to be enjoyable.

Then, I turned and strode towards my room, my clothes coming off as I walked. The shower was a welcome heat, the water pounding against my skin, washing away the final remnants of the charade—but not the exhilarating thrill of it.

I dressed with deliberate care—dark slacks, tailored to emphasize the shape of my thighs, the smooth fabric whispering against my skin as they settled into place.

The crisp white shirt followed, pristine and sharp, the buttons fastened snugly across my chest, the material clinging in a way that was both suggestive and refined—just enough to hint at the muscle beneath, but subtle enough to maintain an air of mystery.

I rolled up the sleeves, revealing my forearms—muscular and veined, the tendons shifting as I casually flexed my fingers. A final flourish: my hand raking through my hair, tousling it into that effortlessly disheveled look that I knew drove women wild.

By the time I emerged, I was more than prepared.

I was ready for battle.

The living room was bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, light streaming through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting elongated shadows across the polished marble floor. And there she was.

Diana stood near the sofa, her posture exuding elegance, her hands smoothing the fabric of her dress—a captivating shade of deep emerald green that seemed to mold to her figure like a second skin.

The neckline plunged just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, the fabric cinched at her waist before flaring out into a knee-length skirt that swayed gracefully around her legs with every subtle movement.

Her blonde hair was artfully swept into a loose, sophisticated chignon, with a few stray tendrils softening the frame of her face. Her lips—oh, her lips—were painted in that same alluring dark red, glossy and undeniably inviting.

She turned as I entered, her eyes openly appraising me before she consciously adopted a more composed expression.

"How do I look?" Her voice was light and casual, yet a subtle flicker of uncertainty lay beneath the surface—a woman who possessed undeniable beauty but still sought external validation.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, my gaze slowly sweeping over her. "It's... acceptable."

Diana’s eyebrows shot up, her lips parting in mock offense. "Hmph." She tossed her hair, her voice sharp with feigned indignation. "You brat. What do you know?"

I smirked, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. "Enough."

Her cheeks flushed, just a touch, her fingers twisting the clasp of her purse. "Let’s go."

I led her to the car, my hand resting on the small of her back—light, possessive, my fingers brushing the fabric of her dress.

The touch was innocent, but the way her breath hitched told me she felt it—the heat of my palm, the weight of my intent.

The Mercedes was parked in the driveway, its sleek black body gleaming under the sun. I opened the passenger door for her, my hand extended to support her as she slid inside.

"You can also be nice..." Diana murmured, her eyes flicking to my face as she settled into the seat, her skirt riding up just enough to tease the smooth expanse of her thighs. "I’m surprised."

I leaned in, my voice a dark purr. "Don’t be."

Her pulse jumped in her throat, her lips parting as she stared up at me. For a moment, the world narrowed to the space between us—the heat of her body, the scent of her perfume, the way her breath caught as my fingers lingered on the doorframe.

Then, I shut the door.