Albedo, despite her bold words, has never had a lover. Her fantasies, however, are vivid—daily indulgences in a dreamy, lovey-dovey world with her beloved Ainz, or rather, Momonga. But even in her imagination, Momonga remains lofty, never uttering crude or childish phrases like, "Albedo-chan, I love you, let's kiss! ♡" Such words are unthinkable from the supreme, wise ruler of death. Albedo secretly craves them, but Momonga would never comply.
The man beside her, however, frequents her fantasies. Unlike Momonga, he can speak vulgarly without issue. Yet, when Albedo casts him in her daydreams, she skips the romance, diving straight into passion. Not now, though. She's not there yet. Offering "candy" before the "whip," this is her chance to enact a cherished fantasy.
Albedo adjusts on the sofa, facing him, and draws his left arm into her cleavage. Today's outfit—layered white and black camisoles—differs from her usual tube top. The tube top, while sexy and perfect for playful insertions, is too tight for easy access. The camisole, flashing her navel, invites touch—straps can be slipped off or fabric lifted.
"What do you think of me?" she asks, her red-blue eyes glinting.
"Albedo-sama descended to reveal true beauty to mortals—"
"Stop."
Her face is stern. Such praise, once embarrassing before Ainz and Nazarick's servants, is overwhelming when delivered with his earnest, shining gaze.
"I'm not asking for flattery. What do you feel for me? We're alone. Be honest."
The dining room's thick walls, fortified with magic, block even Ainz's eavesdropping unless he tries hard. After glimpsing Albedo's grueling study session, Ainz swore never to spy on her E-Rantel breaks. Maids at the door hear nothing. The room is a fortress of secrecy.
"I revere you," he says.
"…Revere?"
It's positive but far from what she wants. Reverence is for superiors, not lovers.
"Use casual words. There's another way to say it."
"I… adore you."
Closer, but still stiff—like a knight to a princess, not a lover. To him, Albedo is a goddess of beauty, her creator-like status making casual expression difficult, much like Nabe's struggle to say "Momon-san."
Realizing she must bridge the gap, Albedo sets rules.
"For now, treat me as an equal. Lovers have no hierarchy."
"Equal to Albedo-sama?"
"No '-sama' either."
"Albe… Al… bedo…"
His eyes widen, then he mutters, struggling to drop the honorific. Unlike Nabe, he adapts after ten tries.
"When you speak, whisper so only I hear."
The room muffles shouts, but whispers draw them closer, tickling her ear.
"Understood," he says, facing her, his arm still in her embrace. He leans in. "I love you."
Albedo melts.
It's a dodge—using "you" instead of her name, and "I love you" echoes their first time. She wants more.
"Not like that… Do you, um, like me?" She stumbles, blushing from the unfamiliar word and her fumble, turning away to hide her face. Seconds later, fear grips her. His silence—did she disappoint him?
No. Her shy blush stuns him, then fills him with joy. A bashful Albedo is adorable, like a believer witnessing a miracle.
"Uh…" she murmurs.
He frees his arm, lifts her glossy black hair, and whispers into her ear, his breath warm. Albedo, trembling with fear of rejection, feels a sensual blank as his words slip in.
"I like you, Albedo. I really like you. I love you."
"Kyuuu~!" she squeals, then gasps, "Albedo-sama!?"
Her body ignites, her tattoo faintly glowing. The words hit hard—too hard. Her face burns, lips slacken. She clenches her teeth, covers her face, and collapses forward to hide.
"Albedo-sama?" he asks.
"Did you use magic?" she demands, serious.
"What?"
The effect was too strong. Words alone shouldn't unravel her. Mental magic, perhaps?
"I used no magic. I can't, anyway. Ainz-sama confirmed I lack any magical talent."
"True…"
He denies it thrice—she must accept it. Her reaction was pure, no magic involved.
(He can't use magic. Momonga-sama said so, and Solution mentioned his lack of mana forces creative potion-making. So why did I feel so thrilled? Just because he said he likes me? I know he does. Yet… I'm aching. I'm wet. Just from lover-like talk, no kisses. What happens if we keep going? ♪)
Albedo halts her analysis. Her succubus instincts crave more.
"Were my words displeasing?" he asks, misreading her reaction.
"No. Don't worry. That was perfect. Say it again."
"Understood—"
"We're equals now. No formalities, no '-sama.'"
"Then… a request. Can you soften your commands? They make me reflexively…"
Albedo blinks, surprised, her expression girlish. Even as equals, her commanding tone pulls rank. She nods.
"I'll try. You speak casually too."
"Got it. Repeat the words?"
"That's fine, but… what do you like about me?"
A dangerous question. To a devotee of Albedo's beauty, it's an invitation to endless praise—her every part divine. Only she can interrupt such worship, but she just did. He must answer differently.
Simply, he loves everything. But that's too childish for her. Thanks to Solution's books, he knows how to respond.
He takes her hand from her white skirt, kissing her fingertips. "I love your translucent, beautiful nails. Your delicate fingers, even their wrinkles, are lovely. Your hands, their smooth touch—I love them."
"And?" she presses.
"Your arms—I'd know you by your elbows alone."
He strokes or kisses each part, naming its charm. From shoulders to collarbone, neck to cheek, he stops kissing at her ear, whispering instead. His voice softens, growing hoarse, barely audible, but "I love you" rings clear.
"Your lips…" he murmurs.
"Mmm… chuu…" She draws his stroking finger into her mouth, sucking, her tongue entwining it, saliva mingling as she's done before.
"I love your warm, soft tongue," he says.
"Mmm… slurp…" She tries to suck harder, but he pulls away, a thread of saliva connecting them. His finger glistens.
"Your face's beauty defies words."
"Ah…" she gasps as he caresses her cheek with his wet hand, warm palm contrasting cool fingers. She covers his hand with hers—her saliva, his fingers, nothing dirty.
Her wings, once fluttering, now rest on the polished floor. Joy and embarrassment overwhelm her, not pain. Unlike past resentful glances, her teary eyes now dreamily accept his words. Repeated "I love you"s send her soaring.
A level-100 succubus, Nazarick's Overseer, awakened with a lust tattoo, Albedo is formidable. Yet her heart is a maiden's, fueled by daily fantasies of Ainz. Her body follows her heart, preparing for him without kisses, unnoticed by her. Her nipples graze her camisole, her tattoo glows pink, and she's wet—craving fulfillment if she noticed.
She knows he'll touch where he loves. "Do you like my breasts too?"
"Of course, I love them."
Despite lingering desires for another's slender frame, he adores her ample chest. Solution's constant displays pale against Albedo's magnificent breasts—never tiring, always stirring that first awe.
"Want to touch them?"
"Yes."
His hand slips under her camisole, bare beneath. Fingers graze her soft breast but stop short of grasping, instead wrapping around her waist to pull her close.
"I love you, Albedo. I adore you. As equals, do you like me?"
"…What?"
She set the rule of equality. Love is mutual, not one-sided. Only those who love each other are lovers.
She doesn't dislike him. His essence and vigor are delicious. His physique, though not burly, is balanced—tall, long-limbed, stylish. His refined demeanor fits Nazarick's royal suite. His rare beauty speaks for itself. His loyalty is unshakable. She adores him. If not for her duties, she'd keep him by her side, cherishing him constantly.
His pounding heart echoes in her embrace. Counting 100 beats, she smiles with tender grace.
"I'll say it once, so listen."
"…Yes."
She hugs him, chin on his shoulder, lips at his ear. Breathing warmly, she whispers her love in a voice soft as a bell.
(I love you… ♡)
She holds him, cheeks burning. Saying it was embarrassing, despite demanding it of him. To hide, or mark him, or just because, she rubs her cheek against his, inhaling his scent before pulling back.
Her lover's face, though, holds a troubled smile.
"I… didn't hear it. I felt your breath, but…"
"…Mmph."
Her whisper was too delicate. A ranger like Aura might've caught it, but he, unskilled, heard only breath. Unheard love conveys nothing.
Frustrated, her cheeks puff childishly. She's a lovesick girl now.
"Fine, I'll say it once more."
Less shy the second time, she rests a hand on his shoulder, leaning in.
"I like you. ♡"
"!!!" He snaps to her, startled.
She smiles, blushing, eyes darting away, then back, locking briefly before shying again. They meet again, holding silently. Her gaze drops—to his bulging trousers.
"Got hard just from me saying I like you?"
"Yes… and your adorable expression."
Nabe's touch didn't stir him, but Albedo's caress or breath does. Her words, her girlish look, push him further.
"Happy I said I like you?"
"Very."
"I was happy when you said it too."
"I love you, Albedo. I really do."
"Ngh… that makes my heart skip! I'll say it back—I like you. I love you! ♡"
Hands clasped, trading "I love you"s, they draw closer. Even at kissing distance, words flow.
"Chuu… I love you. I love kissing you."
Kisses punctuate words, growing longer. Tongues entwine, saliva slurps, swallowing sounds echo. One "I love you" becomes ten, twenty, spoken with every touch.
Here lies primal magic, older than tier magic or the Dragon Lords' primal arts—born with words themselves. An incantation older than magic. Repeated, it binds the speaker to its meaning. Even false words, spoken with heart, gain life. A hint of truth lets them grow.
Albedo says "I love you" endlessly, pouring her heart into her beloved.
"Not just kisses—touch my breasts. I want you to. I love your touch. ♡ Ngh…"
His hand slides under her camisole, now grasping her breast. Fingers spread, sinking into soft, smooth flesh, too large to fully hold. He kneads, confirming their size and softness. Her breaths grow ragged.
"My breasts are yours. Touch them as much as you want. Do what you like. But not rough like before—though that felt good. Be gentle now. We're lovers."
Lovers don't do crude acts, she believes. A succubus, yes, but a maiden too. Whether gentle caresses satisfy a succubus is another matter.