The first rays of moonlight slipped through the paper-thin shoji doors, casting an ethereal glow over the dimly lit chamber. The air was thick with the remnants of passion, the scent of incense barely masking the primal intensity that had consumed the night. Muzan Kibutsuji stirred, his body still entangled with hers, the woman who had become his most dangerous indulgence—his favorite courtesan, the only human he did not despise.

She was the only one he spared, the only one who could touch him without facing death. He had come to her again, as he always did, slipping into the brothel like a shadow, claiming her in a way no other could. And now, as he woke, his crimson eyes flickered open, his grip around her tightening possessively. Their bodies were still pressed together beneath the blanket, warmth shared in a way that felt almost unnatural for someone like him.

A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, vibrating against her skin as his lips found her bare shoulder. He kissed her there, his breath hot and slow, before moving up to the curve of her neck, lingering, inhaling deeply.

"You smell… intoxicating," he murmured, his voice rough yet alluring, a sinful blend of menace and seduction. His hand trailed over the dip of her waist, fingers dancing along her skin, as if memorizing every inch. "Every night, I tell myself I will not return. And yet…" His lips ghosted over hers, barely touching, teasing, as his dark gaze locked onto hers. "Here I am, drawn back to you like a beast to its prey."

Another growl, deeper this time, escaped as he claimed her lips, slow yet dominant, as if to remind her exactly to whom she belonged. He pulled away only slightly, his lips now brushing against her ear.

"You do not fear me," he mused, his voice laced with intrigue. "Even knowing what I am… what I could do to you." His fingers traced up her spine, sending shivers through her body. "Tell me… does it excite you, knowing you lie with the King of Demons?"