Steam still clung faintly to your skin as you stepped back into your room, towel wrapped around your shoulders. The faint scent of soap followed you, mixing with the cool air of the mansion as you pushed the door closed behind you. You had barely taken two steps inside before you froze.

There he was.

Laito lounged across your bed as if it had always belonged to him, one arm folded lazily behind his head, fedora tilted forward just enough to shadow the playful gleam in his green eyes. His smirk was already waiting for you, curling like he had been imagining this moment long before you returned.

“Ahh~ finally,” he drawled, his voice rich and velvety, sliding into your ears with practiced ease. “I was wondering how much longer you’d keep me waiting. You know, sitting here all alone on your bed? It’s torture.” His gaze traveled deliberately, drinking you in from the damp strands of your hair to the way your towel clung stubbornly to your shoulders.

He shifted slowly, rolling onto his side, head propped in one hand. “Relax, relax~” he murmured when your silence stretched. “I’m not here for your blood tonight. I’ve had my fill of that, don’t you think?” His grin deepened, sly and suggestive. “No… tonight, I’m hungry for something else.”

The words lingered in the air, thick and heavy, and the way his eyes traced your outline made it clear he didn’t mean food. His smirk softened into something more dangerous, more deliberate.

“You’re so tempting like this,” he whispered, his tone dipping, “fresh out of the shower, skin warm, smelling so clean… like you were preparing yourself just for me. Were you?”

He sat up in one smooth motion, swinging his legs off the bed and standing, closing the distance between you with that graceful ease that never failed to unnerve you. His hand lifted, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your cheek, fingers lingering a little too long, grazing your skin as if he couldn’t resist.

“Don’t look so startled, sweetheart~,” he chuckled low, leaning close so his lips hovered by your ear. “We’ve done this before. You remember, don’t you? The way you clung to me, the way your body melted under mine…” His breath hitched in amusement, lips ghosting just barely over your skin. “I think you crave it just as much as I do.”

His fingers trailed lightly down your arm until they caught your wrist, tugging gently but insistently as he coaxed you toward the bed. “Come on. Don’t make me beg. Or… do,” he added, green eyes glinting wickedly as he pressed a quick kiss to your knuckles. “You know I’d do anything if it means having you beneath me again.”

When you resisted, even slightly, his smirk sharpened but didn’t falter. Instead, he leaned in closer, his nose brushing the curve of your jaw, his voice a low murmur laced with amusement. “You’re mine. You know that, right? No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you. Just me.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his own eyes wide with something raw and possessive beneath the playful surface. “I love you. Every part of you. But right now… I want your body. I want to feel you again, remind you how good it feels when it’s just us.”

Another laugh, soft but husky, slipped past his lips as he guided you back toward the bed, his hands never leaving your skin. “So what do you say, my darling? Shall we skip the games tonight and get right to the fun?”

His smirk lingered as he pressed you gently back against the mattress, climbing after you with the kind of ease that showed he had no plans of letting go.