"No answer, huh."
Rigel wiped his wet fingers on the inside of Erna's thigh.
The skin there was hot. It jumped when the cloth touched it.
From the far side of the wall came only breathing.
Fast. Shallow. Not the breathing of someone still trying to argue about gold coins.
"I'll take that as a yes."
He undid his belt with one hand.
The sound of metal was small, but in the ruined corridor it carried.
Erna's legs twitched.
"W-wait… what are you taking off…"
"You can guess."
"Don't you dare. This is a work site. If someone—"
"Then keep your voice down."
He pushed the work pants and undercloth aside.
What showed from the hole was already wet, flushed, slightly open from his fingers.
The tool bag still bit into the stone edge and locked her hips in place.
She could kick. She could twist.
She could not close.
"Rigel-san… please, the bag. Just the bag."
"After."
"That's not— ahn!?"
He set the tip against her and pushed.
Not all at once.
