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’!’

That hit harder than anything else she’d said tonight.

Like a rock to the chest.

I blinked at her—really looked at her now. Sitting on top of , body flushed and thighs wrapped around my waist, dress hiked up, breath warm against my neck—and yet still... still so pure. Not in a weak way. Not helpless. But untouched. Unspoiled.

And real.

Not like the won I’d t before—loud and drunk, bragging about the n they’d been with, repeating things they’d seen in dirty shows or heard from nastier mouths.

She wasn’t like them.

She wasn’t pretending to be strong.

She was strong.

But still... innocent.

Still learning.

Still opening up her heart with words that made feel like a fool.

And here I was, talking about my cock like so idiot with sothing to prove.

I felt my face heat.

I realized my biggest mistake right here—I tried to impose the ideology of bitches on a woman.

Her hands ca up slowly... then stopped.

She just looked at for a second—those golden eyes deep and unreadable—before reaching out and gently clasping my face between her palms.

Her touch was warm. Soft. Like silk draped over skin still steaming from bathwater.

She didn’t blink.

Didn’t smile.

Her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes searched mine—quietly reading every inch of my hesitation, my awkward silence. The way I didn’t know where to look. The way I swallowed but didn’t speak.

Then she closed her eyes.

And in that whisper of breath between us, she said it:

"Do you want to take ?"

Fuck.

I froze.

Every cell in wanted to crack a joke. Just sothing to cut the tension, sothing stupid like "You offering yourself to a man like ?"—but the words died before they reached my tongue.

Because her voice... her face... there was nothing playful about it.

She was serious.

And sincere.

And maybe even scared.

I swallowed hard, eyes locked on hers, heart hamring inside my chest like it was trying to warn not to fuck this up.

"...Any sane man would want to," I said finally, voice low.

Her eyes widened a little.

Then... slowly, her gaze dropped. Her head tilted down—not out of sha, but sothing else.

Sothing quieter.

She looked like she was trying to understand. Trying to accept what I said. But under that calm, I saw the smallest twitch in her brow.

That flicker of hurt.

Like I’d just missed the answer she was hoping for.

And then she moved.

Her fingers slipped down to her thigh, delicate and trembling, catching the side of her dress. In a slow, hesitant motion, she dragged the fabric aside—exposing the soft swell of her breasts.

Bit by bit, she revealed herself to .

Not as a tease.

Not as lust.

But like... she was offering.

Offering herself to .

Like this was all she could give to make stay.

’Fuck.’

My hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could pull the dress any further.

Her breath hitched.

I looked straight into her eyes, voice rough with emotion I barely understood.

"But I want to love you..."

My hand slid up, cupping the side of her face this ti. Feeling the warmth of her cheek, the fragile tension in her jaw.

"You’re not soone to take... Asperia. You’re soone to have."

She blinked—eyes shimring now, lips slightly parted. I could feel her heartbeat through the pulse in her neck.

Mine was just as loud.

"Can you give another chance," I whispered, "to care for you? To show you that this perverted man still has a heart?"

And then I smiled.

Not the cocky smirk I usually wore.

Not the stupid grin that said I was up to sothing.

Just a smile.

Warm. Quiet. Real.

Like every fucking part of ant what I just said.

Fuck this R-18 plot, I’ll just follow the romance route with many won.

Ahem, but a harem was inevitable for my survival.

Her eyes widened.

She blinked.

Once. Then again. Like sothing inside her just cracked and didn’t know what to do next. Like I’d said sothing that didn’t match the kind of world she expected to live in.

Sothing soft. Real. I didn’t even know I had that in till now.

I smiled a little—nothing big, just enough to show her I wasn’t bullshitting. I dropped my head forward and pulled her in.

Just... held her. Arms around her bare back, her skin warm against mine. I could feel the way she breathed—tight at first, shallow, like she wasn’t used to this kind of touch.

Then slowly... she let go. That little stiffness in her spine lted. Her body leaned in.

"You don’t look good like that," I whispered. "Be fiery, my Princess."

She didn’t say anything. Just breathed against my chest. And fuck, that silence said more than words ever could.

So I kissed the top of her head. Soft. Right where the golden strands spilled like silk.

My fingers brushed along her spine and down, not in so greedy way. Just needing to feel she was real. Here. With .

I pulled her down with , slow and gentle like I was afraid she’d disappear. The bed creaked. Her breath hitched.

Her body, wrapped in that half-damp, thin dress due to our sweat, settled against mine, and I wrapped a leg over her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Not to hold her down. Just to keep her close. Keep her safe.

Her face pressed into my chest. She was so warm. So small like this, even though I’d seen her fire, her pride, her sharp tongue.

Now she just clung to like the world outside didn’t matter.

And maybe it didn’t.

I let my hand rest against the curve of her waist, my palm full of her soft skin—the kind of touch that wasn’t asking for more. Just... staying. Feeling. Breathing with her.

Then I whispered, right above her ear, my voice barely a sound.

"I don’t have anyone, Asperia... except you."

My voice was low. Honest. Maybe too honest.

"It’s not because I ca from another world or hatched from a damn egg.... The truth is—even before all that, I was an orphan. Just a kid. No one ever called theirs. No one ever held and said, ’You belong here.’"

Her body flinched. Just a little. Like that truth hit deeper than it should’ve.

I knew I was saying too much. But she was the one who said she wanted to see my heart. So fuck it. No more hiding behind jokes or playing the fool to make people laugh.

No more pretending I was always fine, easygoing, light.

That was just survival. A mask. Sothing I wore so the world wouldn’t chew up faster than it already had.

"I fought every damn day to survive. Clawed my way through scraps, worked till my bones ached just to earn a few coins... and died before I ever really lived. And then—bam. Woke up in a different world, inside that egg you found in."

I looked at her, really looked, even as her head was tucked against my chest. My arms wrapped around her tighter. Not rough. Not desperate.

Just... needing her to know she was mine.

That I was hers..... and of many more won to co.

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