The bathroom was already filled with steam when Sarael led him inside.
It was enormous, easily big enough for two people, and the water looked almost milky, scented with something floral that Ronan vaguely recognized as the scent of the same night-blooming flowers from her shrine.
Even after living here for a while. Ronan was still not quite used to living in luxury.
"You really went all out today."
Ronan said, taking in the scene. She’d thought of everything.
"Mhm."
Sarael hummed, already working on his shirt. Her fingers moved with the same practiced precision from before, but there was something more hungry in her touch now.
The domestic roleplay was still happening, but the edges were starting to blur.
"We’ve been together for a while. So I thought, why not upgrade our bath routine?"
She slid the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her palms pressed flat against his chest, and she let out a small, satisfied sigh.
"You work so hard. You deserve to be taken care of."
Sarael slipped out of her dress, letting it pool on the floor. Her magic kept it dry so she could reuse it later.
"Get in. The water’s warm. I made sure it feels comfortable even for someone as tough as you."
Sarael chose her words carefully. Instead of mentioning Ronan’s high constitution and his new resistance to heat, she kept her tone casual.
She wasn’t playing around when it came to making this as domestic as possible.
Ronan stepped into the tub, water spilling over the edge as he settled in. Sarael followed soon after, moving beside him and washing his hands and skin.
She made sure to clear away the sweat and dust he’d picked up from sparring with Sebastian.
"Were you running around the office again?"
"Mhm. The tenth floor’s printer broke, and I had to head to the fifth floor every time I needed new papers."
Ronan answered just as casually, never once breaking Sarael’s immersion.
✧ ✦ ✧
"There, your upper body’s all done."
Sarael hummed, a faint flirtatious lilt threading through her voice, something Ronan hadn’t heard from her in weeks, not since she’d thrown herself into her gift.
"Are you moving lower, then?"
"Well, duh, of course. You’re tired, so I’m obviously doing all the cleaning."
Ronan couldn’t help but relax even more. He’d honestly thought Sarael would leave him hanging again, but apparently, that wasn’t her plan tonight.
She wasn’t merely playing at being a wife; she was playing her version of one. A very devoted, very lustful version.
And now she was going to go even further, to put everything Anastasia had taught her into practice. All the new words and phrases the two of them had picked up during their talks.
Most of it was just stuff Anastasia had found in random corners of the internet. Sarael didn’t mind. After reading more than a few interesting stories, she’d definitely taken inspiration.
"You’re so hard~"
She wrapped both hands around his shaft and began to stroke.
"I didn’t realize. It must hurt."
"It’s been hurting for quite a while."
Sarael’s eyes widened at how honest he was. All those times she’d intentionally left him wanting, edging him just so he’d need her more. It hadn’t been for nothing. Right now, Ronan was at his most open.
"Does that make me a bad wife?"
"No. You’re already making up for it."
Sarael’s hands moved slowly, deliberately, her fingers tracing every ridge and vein with the kind of attention she usually reserved for studying his sleeping face.
The warm water made everything slick, and her thumbs pressed into the underside of his shaft with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch.
"I’ve been thinking about this."
She murmured, her lips brushing his ear.
"Every night, while I was planning the gift. Every time I told you ’not yet.’ I was thinking about exactly this."
"Then you know exactly what you’ve been doing to me."
"Mm. I do."
She kissed the corner of his jaw, her strokes never faltering.
"I wanted you to miss me. Anastasia said that was important. That if I was always available, you’d get bored."
"I wouldn’t get bored of you."
"Really?"
She pulled back just enough to look at his face, her eyes searching his expression. The water rippled around them as she shifted, her bare body pressing against his side.
"Even if I was clingy every single day? Even if I never gave you space?"
"Sarael."
He caught her chin with his free hand, turning her to face him fully. He still wasn’t used to being dominant, but knowing Sarael, he had to try his best in the role.
"I think you underestimate how lustful humans can get."
Her eyes widened. Then she laughed, a surprised sound that echoed off the bathroom tiles.
"Anastasia never really mentioned much about that..."
"Well, I don’t think she’d even want to mention it."
She kissed him then, deep and unhurried, her tongue sliding against his while her hand continued its slow rhythm beneath the water.
When she finally pulled back, her pupils had warped back into hearts, and her smile had taken on that edge he recognized so well.
"Then let me finish making up for all those weeks. Properly."
Her hand tightened around him, and she began to stroke faster, her wrist twisting on each upward pull. Ronan’s head fell back against the edge of the tub, a groan escaping his throat.
"Don’t be afraid to cum, Ronan. We still have dinner and a date after all. We can’t be too late~"
Ronan didn’t need to be told twice. The weeks of denial, the teasing, the way she’d pull back every time, it all came rushing back as her hand worked him with practiced precision.
The warm water and her floral scent and the soft sounds of her breathing filled his senses until there was nothing else.
"Finally," he muttered.
"I’m sorry for making you wait."
She kissed his jaw as his release hit, her hand never stopping its rhythm. The water clouded around them, but Sarael didn’t seem to notice or care. Her eyes were fixed on his face, watching every micro-expression with the same devotion she’d shown since the shrine.
"There. Isn’t that better?"
[Affinity: 15.0%] -> [Affinity: 17.9%]
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