Round 122

Jeane's crimson eyes are glazed with desperation as she staggers back from the source of the building's insatiable need. The pheromones coat everything in a slick film, making her skin tingle and her body ache for release. She can feel the structure groaning around them, its voice now unmistakably begging—'needed', 'take me', 'fill me'. The clock ticks down: 45 minutes remain.

"I feel it like a physical weight," Jeane gasps, her wings twitching restlessly beneath pale skin. "The building's need is... overwhelming." She staggers against the wall, dark leathery appendages spreading for balance as she fights to maintain control. The sweet musk of the pheromones fills her mouth, making her head swim with unwanted arousal. Her crimson eyes are dilated wide, pupils like pinpricks as she glares at Silra's focused work.

"Forty-five minutes? That's not good enough!" Her voice comes out harsher than intended, a growl that reveals the succubus nature clawing at her control. "We don't have time for precision work or your delicate feelings about 'consent' when the whole fucking building is screaming for dick!" She slams her fist against the wall, leaving a small dent in the plasterboard. The impact sends a crackle through the structure, and for a moment it seems like the entire floor groans in pleasure.

Jeane's long white hair whips around her face as she turns to glare at Halie standing between herself and Silra. "Move," she snarls, her patience fraying visibly. The lust-addled rage in her expression is barely contained, a predator held back only by thin threads of self-control.