The air in Seraphina's private study shimmered, not with firelight but with something primal, as if the room itself held its breath.
Bookshelves loomed, their parchment scent mingling with citrus and the heavy violet-amber musk of Seraphina's presence.
Takuya stood inches from her, his footman's coat clinging to his chest, the trousers outlining his throbbing arousal with merciless precision.
His fingers rested lightly on her thigh, the silk of her midnight gown warm under his touch, her garter line a tantalizing boundary.
A shimmer rippled the air, reality exhaling.
"She's close," purred Lyseria's voice, warm oil sliding through Takuya's mind.
A vision unfurled over Seraphina's shoulder—a half-halo of divine chaos, the Goddess of Lust lounging nude on a throne of writhing cushions, her golden skin gleaming, lavender-rose hair spilling over bare breasts.
She licked her lips, red-gold eyes glinting.
"One moan, little envoy. That's all it takes to keep your manhood intact. Want to keep it, don't you?"
Takuya didn't answer, his focus on Seraphina.
Her spine was taut, her ice-blue eyes wide with a war of control and surrender.
Her lips parted, not for words but anticipation, her breath trembling like a caged bird.
She hadn't pulled away from his fingers, still grazing her thigh through the silk.
Lyseria's vision leaned closer, her smile promising ruin.
"Moan, or be mocked," she whispered. "And if you fail, I'll make sure every noble MILF in this city smells your frustration like perfume."
Seraphina's head tilted, her ash-blonde curls brushing her neck. "You're distracted."
Takuya stepped closer, the citrus air crackling between them.
His fingers moved—two subtle strokes along her gown, teasing the silk where it clung to her thigh, light as a whisper.
"I was thinking," he murmured, voice low and suggestive, "that control looks good on you…"
He grazed upward a fraction, the fabric shifting under his touch.
Her breath hitched, sharp and audible. "…but surrender would look better."
Her gloved hand darted up, seizing his wrist in a velvet grip—tight, commanding, but not pulling him away.
She stared up at him, ice-blue eyes blazing with conflict, lips parted as if on the edge of a cry.
The system pinged.
Passive: Whispers of the Body – Active
Target: Lady Seraphina Grellhart
– Pulse: Spiking at physical contact
– Lip Tremor: Suppressed vocal urge
– Glove Grip: Arousal surge restrained
Arousal: 50%
Restraint: 65%
Her whisper was raw, trembling.
"Prove it."
Takuya obeyed, his hand sliding beneath the gown's hem, finding the slit where stocking met garter.
Warm skin greeted his fingers, soft yet tense, her inner thigh a forbidden canvas.
Her gasp—bare, unfiltered—caught in her throat, half-swallowed, her ice-blue eyes fluttering.
He traced the hollow of her thigh, slow and teasing, leaning in until his lips hovered near her ear, his breath warm. "You don't have to pretend."
Then, with a daring that thrilled his pervert brain, he kissed her gloved wrist, his lips brushing the velvet with reverence.
Her knees buckled, a faint tremor rippling through her.
The sound escaped—not a scream, not a sob, but a soft, undeniable—"Ah—"
She bit it down instantly, lips clamping shut, but it was too late.
The system chimed, crimson text flaring:
SYSTEM ALERT: MOAN DETECTED
Mission Cleared: Evoke a genuine moan from a noblewoman before sunset
Penalty Avoided: Lust Debt Surge
Reward Queue Initiated:
– Passive Unlocked: Arousal Aura (Basic) – Women with repressed desires begin to notice you intimately
Arousal: 52%
Time Remaining: ~3 hours, 58 minutes
Seraphina's eyes fluttered, her chest heaving, ice-blue gaze clouded with shock and desire.
Then—crack—her gloved hand struck his cheek, sharp but not harsh, a sting that only widened his grin.
She turned, her gown swirling, and stormed out, the door slamming behind her.
Takuya stood still, cheek red, his wicked grin pure pervert triumph.
"She moaned," he said aloud, savoring the victory.
Lyseria's sigh filled his mind, a climax of divine approval. "Mmm. And you haven't even unwrapped her yet."
The study's fire crackled, the citrus air now laced with the musk of their encounter.
Takuya's cock throbbed, his trousers tighter than ever.
Round one, mine.
Round two's gonna be legendary.