Chapter 32: My Sin

"Come in," Amber’s voice called softly, a sultry lilt cutting through the stillness of the night.

Aiden pushed the door open, the aged hinges groaning in protest, the sound sharp and intrusive against the quiet of the apartment.

The room beyond was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners like spilled ink. He scanned the space, his eyes searching for her, but Amber was nowhere in sight.

The faint glow of a single lamp cast a warm, amber hue over the modest furnishings—a wooden table worn smooth by years of use, a plush sofa that looked both elegant and inviting, and a small kitchen tucked into the corner, its counter cluttered with a teapot and a scattering of herbs.

The air carried a peculiar scent, a mix of lavender and something earthier, more primal, that stirred a restless heat in his chest.

His gaze fell to the door’s lock, where a single key dangled carelessly from the keyhole. Aiden sighed, his breath a quiet huff of exasperation.

With a practiced flick of his wrist, he turned the lock with a satisfying ’click’ and pocketed the key.

"The door’s unlocked, and the key’s just hanging like this..." he muttered, his voice low, tinged with a mix of concern and irritation. In a world where shadows hid more than just darkness, such carelessness could invite trouble—trouble he’d rather not deal with tonight.

Aiden stepped further into the apartment, his boots sinking into the soft rug that muffled his footsteps. The room felt alive with Amber’s presence, though she remained out of sight.

The scent grew stronger as he moved, a heady mix of her perfume and something more intimate, something that tugged at his instincts. His eyes caught on a discarded garment on the floor—an abbess’s dress, its deep blue fabric crumpled like a fallen flag.

He crouched, fingers brushing the soft material, and lifted it to his face. Her scent clung to it, warm and musky, as if she’d worn it all day, her essence woven into every thread. He inhaled deeply, the fragrance sending a shiver down his spine, igniting a hunger he’d been trying to keep at bay.

’Focus, Aiden,’ he chided himself, but the thought was fleeting, drowned by the pull of desire.

His eyes scanned the room again, landing on something else—a rubbery staff, half-hidden beneath the sofa. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands, a knowing smile curling his lips. He recognized it immediately, its purpose clear.

"The size is a bit off," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement.

"A bit bigger and thicker." With a casual toss, he discarded it, the toy landing with a soft thud in the corner.

’Why would she need this when she has me?’ The thought was possessive, almost arrogant, but it fueled the fire in his gut.

He’d kept her waiting too long, let her desires fester until she sought solace in such things. Tonight, he’d make it right.

"Amber..." he called, his voice carrying a hint of urgency now.

"Here..." Her reply drifted from somewhere deeper in the apartment, an echo that seemed to beckon him like a siren’s song.

Following the sound, Aiden moved through the narrow hallway, his steps deliberate but quickening. The air grew warmer, heavier, as he approached her bedroom.

He stepped on something soft again—another piece of her clothing, perhaps—and ignored it, his focus singular. He pushed the bedroom door open, and her scent hit him like a physical force, a heady wave that made his head spin. His eyes found her, and his breath caught, a primal hunger roaring to life.

There she was, sprawled across the bed like a vision from a fevered dream.

Amber wore a thin, purple gown that clung to her curves like a second skin, the fabric so sheer it left little to the imagination. It hung delicately from her shoulders, the hem barely reaching the tops of her glowing, ample thighs. She sat on the mattress, her posture deceptively demure, her legs pressed together as if to guard the secrets they concealed.

But Aiden could

smell

her—drenched in desire, her arousal a potent perfume that filled the room. Her cheeks were flushed, her green eyes glinting with a need that mirrored his own, begging him to close the distance and claim her then and there.

"There you are..." he said, his voice low, strained with the effort to sound patient. But patience was a lie—his tightening pants betrayed the urgency coursing through him, his bulge evident, unyielding.

"You took your sweet time..." Amber’s voice was a soft accusation, laced with longing.

"Sorry about that..." Aiden replied, stepping closer to the bed. His eyes flicked to the ethereal overlay that only he could see, a faint shimmer of information hovering above her like a halo:

[Amber Nickson

Status: Full Possession

Bloodline: Blessed Bunny Bloodline (Low Tier)

Mana: Low

Grade: C Class

Personality: Longing/Very Very Horny

Skills: Light Healing (Low Tier), Low Aura (Low Tier), Saint Blessing (Locked)

Beauty: Voluptuous (High Tier)

Talent: ⭐⭐]

The sight of her stats only deepened his smirk. A C-class with a bloodline like hers was rare, but it was her

state

that held his attention—’longing, very very horny’. The words pulsed in his mind like a drumbeat, stoking the fire within him.

He closed the distance, her heavy breathing now audible, a rhythm that synced with his own racing pulse.

"It was a sin," he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, "making a beauty like you wait." One hand found her waist, the curve of it soft and warm beneath the thin gown.

The other cupped her cheek, her skin fever-hot against his palm. Amber leaned into his touch, her head resting against his hand as if it were the only thing anchoring her.

"Yes... this sin you committed," she whispered, her voice trembling with need, "playing with me, playing with my..." Her words faltered as Aiden’s lips found her neck, a sudden, hungry kiss that silenced her.

It wasn’t gentle—his mouth moved with a ferocity that spoke of barely restrained desire, licking and nipping at her skin. Amber’s breath hitched, her neck arching to give him more access, her back curving as his hand tightened around her waist.

’Gods, how I’d craved this,’ Amber thought, her mind a haze of sensation. From the moment they’d met, Aiden had been a spark in her blood, a fire she couldn’t douse.

His touch, his scent, his very presence—it was intoxicating, a drug she’d never known she needed until he’d claimed her lips that first time. Was this what the Lord intended? A saintly woman like her, bound to a man who stirred her in ways that felt both divine and profane? She didn’t care. Not now. Not when his hands were on her, his lips marking her as his.

"Ahh!" she moaned as his hand cupped her breast, the softness yielding beneath his fingers.

There was no barrier beneath the gown, no inner wear to dull the sensation. The fabric was a tease, amplifying every touch, every squeeze. Aiden’s golden eyes locked onto hers, intense and unyielding, as if he could see straight into her soul.

"Amber..." he breathed, her name a prayer and a curse.