Round 154

Silra worked in silence, the welder cutting through metal with a steady hiss of sparks. The air around her was hot, thick with the scent of melted steel and something else—something that made her skin prickle and her focus waver. She could feel it, the building's hunger growing more insistent with each passing minute. Forty minutes until the next demand cycle hit. She had to finish this reinforcement before then.

But her hands weren't steady. The heat from the welder wasn't just melting metal—it was making her own blood feel like it was boiling. Every time she inhaled, the air seemed to carry a thousand tiny fingers caressing her skin, teasing at her nipples through her shirt, ghosting over her thighs. She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to concentrate on the cut, on the precise angle she needed.

"Hera," she said, not looking up from her work. "How long do you think we can keep this up? The pressure's getting worse." Her voice came out rougher than she intended, a low growl that made her own ears twitch in surprise. She could feel it, the way her body was responding to the building's demands, to the arousal radiating off everyone else in the room. It wasn't just Jeane anymore—all of them were affected now.

"I'm not sure," Hera replied, her voice tight with effort. "But we can't stop. Not yet." Silra could hear the strain in her words, see how she was clenching her fists as if trying to hold onto something. The air between them seemed to shimmer with unspoken tension.

"Focus, Sil," came Halie's voice from nearby. "We need those supports up." Silra nodded once, sharply, and returned to her work. But she couldn't shake the feeling that they were all balancing on a knife's edge—one wrong move and everything would come crashing down. Literally.