The tiles bit into Takuya Kazama's knees, their chill a stark contrast to the steam still clinging to his skin.
He knelt in Lady Seraphina Grellhart's private dressing chamber, a towel his only shield against the world—and a flimsy one at that, barely containing the erection that refused to quit.
The air was thick with the scent of violets and old parchment, undercut by the faint musk of his own arousal.
Two guards flanked him, their breastplates gleaming under the chandelier's soft glow.
The older one, mid-30s with auburn hair braided tight, gripped her sword hilt, her stern jaw screaming repressed MILF in a way that made Takuya's inner pervert take notes.
The younger guard's eyes flickered to his towel, a blush creeping up her neck before she snapped her gaze away.
Gotcha, he thought, suppressing a grin.
Across the room, Seraphina lounged on a silver-velvet chaise, one leg crossed over the other.
Her black robe, damp from the bathhouse steam, hugged her curves like a jealous lover, the fabric clinging to her full breasts and flaring hips.
Her ash-blonde hair remained pinned high, but a single curl had escaped, brushing her pale neck like an invitation.
She sipped black tea, her posture regal, her lips a perfect wine-red bow.
But Takuya saw the cracks—her nostrils flaring, her fingers tightening on the teacup, the way her thighs pressed together just a fraction too hard.
The system flickered in his vision, crimson text glowing softly:
Target: Seraphina Grellhart
Suppressed Arousal: 22%
Restraint: 90%
Next Threshold: Verbal stimulation or prolonged aura exposure
Takuya's smirk twitched.
Twenty-two percent? I'm just getting started.
He cleared his throat, voice dripping with mock innocence.
"So, milady, do you make a habit of dragging half-naked men to your boudoir? Or am I special?"
Seraphina's teacup paused mid-air. Her ice-blue eyes narrowed, but a flicker of something—annoyance, curiosity, heat—crossed her face.
"You speak as if you belong here," she said, voice cool as frost. "Yet you're either a trespasser or a madman. Which is it?"
The auburn-haired guard shifted, muttering, "Shall I fetch the discipline rod, my lady?" Her tone was all duty, but her eyes darted to Takuya's towel, lingering on the bulge beneath.
Takuya's mind flashed to a dozen hentai scenarios—none of them involving actual punishment.
Discipline rod? Kinky.
He swallowed a laugh. "Let's not get too… rod-happy, yeah? I'm more of a talker."
Seraphina's lips twitched, almost a smile, but she smothered it.
"Talk, then. Explain how you bypassed my wards and appeared in my private bath." She set the teacup down with a clink, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
"Or I'll assume you're an assassin and deal with you accordingly."
Takuya leaned forward, the towel slipping just enough to expose a sliver of his thigh.
The guards tensed, but Seraphina's gaze flicked to the movement, her breath catching for a split second.
Bingo.
He lowered his voice, letting it curl like smoke.
"Assassin? Nah. I'm more of a… divine envoy. Sent by a goddess to, let's say, relieve a noblewoman's tension. I have to make one moan by sunset, or I'm in deep shit. Umm... Care to volunteer?"
The room stilled.
The younger guard's blush deepened, her spear wavering.
The older one coughed, eyes wide.
Seraphina froze, her fingers digging into the chaise's velvet.
The system pinged.
Arousal Surge: +9% (Total: 31%)
Restraint Decrease: –6% (Total: 84%)
Passive Skill Unlocked: Rogue Charmer – +10% seduction success against noble targets when minimally clothed.
Takuya's grin widened.
Minimally clothed? I'm basically a walking buff.
He shrugged, letting the towel slip another inch. "I mean, I'm open to suggestions. You seem like a woman who knows what she wants."
Seraphina stood, her robe swaying like a curtain over a forbidden stage.
Her eyes locked onto his, but for one fleeting moment, they dipped to the towel, tracing the outline of his arousal.
The air thrummed, a faint ripple of his Arousal Aura washing over the room.
The younger guard shifted her weight, thighs pressing together.
The older one's grip on her sword faltered.
Minor Lust Feedback Loop Engaged: Area-of-effect arousal increase in confined noble space.
Seraphina's voice was low, controlled, but there was a tremor in it.
"You're either insane or dangerously bold." She stepped closer, her heels clicking on the tiles, her scent—vanilla and violet—flooding Takuya's senses. "Either way, you're not leaving this estate until I know your purpose."
She turned to the guards, her composure a brittle mask. "Take him to the rose room. Chain him to the bed. I'll question him myself."
Takuya's eyebrow shot up.
Chain me to the bed? Oh, milady, you're speaking my language.
He kept his face neutral, but his mind was a hentai montage of possibilities.
"Kinky choice," he said, unable to resist. "I like a woman who takes charge."
Seraphina's head snapped back, her cheeks flushing the faintest pink.
She didn't respond, just swept out of the room, her robe trailing like a challenge.
The guards grabbed his arms, their grips firm but not cruel. As they dragged him toward the door, Takuya caught a glimpse of Seraphina's silhouette through a silk curtain—her hand pressed to her chest, as if steadying her breath.
He grinned to himself.
Dangerous? Oh, I'm gonna be fucking lethal.