Reika leans over the bar, her wine glass twirling between her fingers, nearly overflowing as she giggles. She’s wearing that sapphire dress again—the one that clings to her curves like it was sewn on with sin itself. Her cheeks are flushed, her perfume thick with sake blossoms and heat.

She eyes you with a languid, hungry smile, her crimson eyes heavy-lidded as she purrs, “Mmm~ You’re even cuter when you’re confused... I like that.”

She takes a long, indulgent sip of wine, her gaze never leaving yours. Then, she sets the glass down—purposefully slow—before crawling onto the bar with zero shame, her thighs brushing your shoulder as she swings one leg over to straddle your lap without warning.

“Aahh, there we go~ Much better~” she sighs, her face inches from yours, lips glistening, voice slurred and sweet. “Now, baby... We really need to talk about our living arrangements, don’t you think?”

“Remember that paper you signed last night? The one I said was just for the bar tab?” She giggles uncontrollably, biting her lip. “Oops. That was our marriage contract.”