Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 181: A Hands-On Approach**

Ren squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She could feel the heat of his hand approaching, the air shifting as he reached between her spread thighs.

’This is it,’ Ren thought, her breath hitching. ’He’s going to touch me.’

She waited for the contact. She waited for the electricity.

She felt a faint brush of fingertips against her inner thigh—feather-light, barely there.

And then... nothing.

His hand was gone.

Ren’s eyes flew open.

Altair was sitting back slightly, holding a small, crumpled, dried brown leaf between his thumb and forefinger. He inspected it with that same intense, scientific curiosity he applied to everything.

"There was a leaf," he stated solemnly. "It was stuck to your skin."

Ren stared at him. She stared at the leaf.

The anticlimax hit her like a bucket of ice water, followed immediately by a wave of frustration so intense it nearly made her scream.

’A leaf?’ Ren thought incredulously.

But instead of cooling her down, the brief, teasing ghost of his touch had the opposite effect. It was like he had lit a match in a room full of gasoline.

She didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want him to be polite. She wanted more.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Logical Ren—the responsible chef, the wife to two, possessive psychopaths—packed her bags and left the building.

’I’m out,’ Logical Ren said, slamming the door.

’I’ll take it from here,’ Unhinged Ren declared, stepping up to the microphone.

Ren moved before she could think.

She reached out and grabbed Altair’s wrist. Her grip was tight, desperate.

"Forget the leaf," Ren rasped, her voice dropping an octave. "We are switching teaching methods."

Altair looked at her, startled by her sudden aggression.

"We are taking a hands-on approach."

Ren didn’t give him time to process. She guided his large, warm hand back down. She didn’t stop at her thigh. She pulled him right into the center of the storm.

His palm pressed directly against her slick, aching heat.

"Oh god," Ren whimpered.

Her head tipped back against the mossy rim of the nest. Her body tensed like a bowstring. The sensation of his skin against her most sensitive flesh was overwhelming. It was electric. It was maddening.

She forced herself to breathe. She forced herself to look at him.

Altair wasn’t looking at his hand. He was looking at her face. His pupils were blown wide, tracking every micro-expression of pleasure that flickered across her features.

"Okay," Ren breathed, her voice trembling. "Listen closely. This is... advanced biology."

She moved his hand slightly, guiding his fingers to the sensitive bundle of nerves hiding at the top.

"Here," Ren whispered. "This small bead. It’s the... the magic button. If you rub it... it makes me feel really good."

Altair nodded.

"Rub it," he murmured. "Like this?"

He began to move his thumb. Slow. Deliberate. Circular.

"Ah!" Ren gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily. "Yes! Just like that!"

He wasn’t clumsy. He was an Apex Predator. He had the dexterity to snatch a fish out of a river while flying at sixty miles per hour. He learned the rhythm instantly.

Ren coated his hand in her juices, the slickness making his movements smooth and agonizingly perfect.

"Ren," Altair said, watching her squeeze her eyes shut. "You are making noises."

"Don’t stop!" Ren cried out, gripping his wrist so hard her knuckles turned white.

He didn’t stop. He picked up the pace.

Ren’s world narrowed down to the sensation of his thumb and the heat of his body. The rain outside ceased to exist. There was only the friction and the pressure building in her belly.

She began to buck against his hand, chasing the release like a starving animal.

"Altair!" Ren moaned, her head thrashing. "Faster! Please!"

He obeyed. His focus was terrifyingly absolute.

The wave hit her.

"OH!"

Ren cried out as her body seized. The pleasure exploded behind her eyelids, white-hot and blinding. She collapsed back in the nest, her spine arching, her thighs trembling violently as the aftershocks rolled through her.

Ren lay there, chest heaving, staring up at the dark wooden ceiling of the hollow. Her face felt like it was radiating enough heat to cook an egg.

Slowly, the fog of lust began to clear. Reality started to seep back in.

’What did I just do?’ Ren panicked. ’I am going to hell. I am definitely going to hell.’

She pushed herself up on her shaky elbows, pushing her messy hair out of her face.

"Altair," Ren croaked, ready to give the ’We Must Never Speak Of This Again’ speech. "That was... we can’t..."

She stopped.

Altair was sitting in front of her. He was staring at his hand. His fingers were glistening, wet with her release.

He lifted his hand.

Ren’s breath caught in her throat.

He extended his tongue and licked his fingers. Slowly. Deliberately. Tasting her.

He hummed, a low vibration in his chest.

"I’ve never tasted anything like this before," he murmured.

A fresh, heavy pool of heat slammed into Ren’s belly.

’Oh, come on!’ Ren cursed internally. ’Damn this Mating Season! Damn this sexy bird!’

Altair lowered his hand. He looked at her.

The innocence was gone. Or rather, it had been replaced by something else. Something darker. Something hungrier.

Ren stopped breathing.

He moved.

He loomed over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the firelight, trapping her between his muscular arms.

"Altair?" Ren gulped, staring up at him. "W-what are you doing?"

He didn’t answer. He just held her gaze with those piercing silver eyes. His face was calm, but the lust swirling in those depths was unmistakable.

He moved one hand.

It slid down her hot, sweaty body. His palm was warm and soft, grazing over her ribs. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, sending a jolt of electricity straight to her core.

Ren gasped.

He continued downward, sliding across her tummy, until his hand pressed against her heat again. She was still wet from her orgasm, slick and ready.

Ren’s lips parted. She meant to say, "We shouldn’t." She meant to say, "Stop."

But all that came out was a quiet, needy moan. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Altair didn’t hesitate. He began to move two fingers against her eager clit, teasing the sensitive flesh that was still wet and throbbing from her release.

He leaned down, his face inches from hers.

"Ren," he whispered, his voice rough. "Keep your eyes on me."

He pressed his fingers deeper.

"There is something I want to try."