Chapter 9

Episode 9

He watched with amusement as Rose’s face contorted in shock.

She had been using the alias Olga Blavatsky herself, yet it had never crossed her mind that someone else might be using an alias too.

“Well then, it’s been quite enjoyable, but I think I’ll take my leave now.”

He glanced once more at Rose’s stunned expression, clearly entertained, then turned to go.

He’d had his fun. A little harmless flirtation was the perfect way to end things—for both their sakes.

“Next time, be sure to bring my handkerchief properly.”

It looked like he’d be attending another of the Countess’s parties to see Miss Blavatsky again.

“W-Wait! Not yet, please, not yet.”

Rose hurriedly grabbed the hem of his coat.

“Miss Blavatsky.”

“Please. I know it’s shameless of me to ask, but the reason I brought you here today was…”

As Rose stumbled over her words, James calmly peeled her fingers off his coat.

“A very direct and sexual proposition. I’m aware.”

“Then…”

He could’ve just turned and walked away, but James found himself asking instead,

“Why me? Weren’t you involved with Mr. Huckerd?”

“…Not anymore.”

Her expression turned cold the moment she heard that name—the man who hadn’t shown up to tonight’s party. It was clear their relationship had ended poorly.

“Jumping into bed with another man right after a breakup isn’t exactly the best decision.”

“It’s not impulsive. I thought about it and came to the decision rationally.”

“Let me ask again: why me?”

He wasn’t the only man at the Countess’s party. And unlike others, he had shown nothing but disinterest in her séance—often keeping to the shadows and out of her sight. From her perspective, he should’ve been the last man she’d want a fling with.

And yet…

“You seemed like the least complicated choice.”

Her answer caught him off guard.

“You’re kind to women, experienced, and don’t cling to a partner or get messy after a night together. On top of that, you’re incredibly handsome. No one fits the bill quite like Mr. Jack Dillon does.”

So, essentially, she just wanted to sleep with a handsome, low-risk man?

It was the sort of answer that could offend some, but James found this direct approach more to his taste. If she had said something like “I’ve always admired you” or “Please be my lover”, he probably would’ve walked out.

“I see. Is that so.”

Her unpredictable words and actions stirred something in him. Maybe, just for tonight, he could allow himself a little adventure. After all, if they both benefitted, it would align with his usual principles.

If he needed an excuse, he could blame the alcohol. But if he was being honest, he rather liked her awkward, earnest attempt at seduction.

James slowly removed one of his gloves and cupped her flushed cheek with a large hand, gazing down at her nervous face.

“You know, eye color can be changed temporarily with the right drug.”

“What?”

“Platinum blonde or brown hair—whichever one’s real, I’d like to know. If you’re wearing a wig, it’s going to be a hassle in bed.”

His lazy smile told her everything.

Realizing this was his way of saying yes, Rose hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t considered it before, but if he was going to know her real appearance, then she wanted their first time to be in her true form.

Snap.

With a flick of her fingers, her platinum hair shifted into a soft, rosy brown, and her green eyes turned violet.

“…This method of disguise is a trade secret.”

Using overt magic in front of a regular person broke the Omerta, but this small amount could be passed off as just another séance trick.

His eyes briefly widened in surprise, then returned to normal.

“I prefer this over the platinum blonde, actually.”

Thinking it was a clever illusion, James didn’t overreact.

“Now then… if you have any particular preferences, now’s the time to tell me.”

“I’m not here for that kind of play.”

“Well, thank god for that.”

His fingers slid from her cheek to her ear, then trailed down her nape and stopped.

“Coming on to a man while dressed like a nun… you must be quite confident.”

Since she’d come as a séance performer, Rose was dressed in a severe, modest outfit—practically mourning clothes. It was her signature stage costume.

“No one wants a medium in an off-the-shoulder dress.”

“Is that so? I think I’d be fine with it.”

James laughed, low and husky, and dragged his fingernails over her neck and shoulders, and she could feel his fingertips through the fabric. The touch was almost indecent—it made Rose feel as though she were completely exposed.

“Ah!”

As his hand slid lower toward her chest, Rose instinctively clutched at the front of his jacket and inhaled sharply.

“Miss. Would you look at me, please?”

She opened her tightly shut eyes and lifted her head, and James, as if waiting for that cue, covered her lips with his own.

His kiss carried the warmth of lingering alcohol, and his firm, hot tongue slipped past her lips and invaded her mouth. The unfamiliar sensation startled her—she had only ever known how to kiss Arthur like this, before now.

His tongue alternated between sharp flicks and slow, grinding motions, a kind of stimulation she’d never experienced before.

When she hesitated in surprise, he entwined her tongue with his and gently stroked her palate, as if laying claim to every corner of her mouth.

Mustering her courage, Rose tangled her tongue with his, meeting his kiss with her own.

“Hn… mmph…”

The kiss was relentless—not overly rough, not polite, just… desperate. She was left gasping for breath, and eventually wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself.

The obscene sounds of their wet kiss, the breathless moans—it was shocking how erotic it all was. Her whole body seemed to tremble from the sensation.

It was just a kiss, and yet she felt something deep inside her lurch.

“W-Wait… Mr. Dillon. I… I can’t breathe…”

Only then did he release her lips, gently nipping the lower one before pulling back. A glistening thread of saliva stretched between them, which kept them connected for a moment.

James looked at her face—flushed cheeks, glistening lips, eyes fluttering with pleasure.

He had nearly lost his mind at her bold response; it had been a long time since he wanted someone enough to go all the way.

He pressed his thumb against her swollen, reddened lips and rubbed softly.

“We can’t kiss all night.”

“……!”

“Miss. May I begin?”

His voice, now tinged with heat, made Rose nod without hesitation.

The moment she gave permission, James dragged his nails gently down her waist.

“Ahh…!”

“More sensitive than I expected, Miss.”

Her legs wobbled and gave way from the unexpected stimulation, and James wasted no time pulling her into his arms and turning her around.

“If you prefer to keep your clothes on, that can be arranged.”

His low, burning voice rang out from behind her. Rose’s eyes widened in surprise as she turned to look at him.

“…No. Let’s do this properly.”

James ran his fingers down the neat row of buttons lining her back.

“Ah!”

When he reached her tailbone, she couldn’t suppress a moan.

“At this rate, I’ll still be unbuttoning when the sun rises.”

“I… I didn’t think about that… hn!”

She’d been too focused on escaping the condition of the offering to consider how impractical her outfit was. Her face burned—was it from embarrassment at being undressed, or shame at having worn such a foolish outfit to seduce someone?

The feel of his lips and breath on her exposed nape nearly caused her to melt.

“Miss. Would you help me?”

“…How?”

Still catching her breath, she managed to ask it, and he gave the most outrageous reply.

“You’ll undress me, of course.”

It was, quite literally, the first time she’d ever heard anyone make such a request.