Ultimate Spin System: Ero Spin?-Chapter 97 - Call Me Master

The heat between them thickened, the air saturated with steam and something far heavier. The lather of soap turned every touch into a glide, every movement into something slow and indulgent. It was no longer just about cleaning—it was a game, a dance of restraint, of knowing glances and teasing gestures.

Lucas swallowed, feeling the way Beatrice’s fingers traced over his chest, the slickness making every stroke more languid, more deliberate.

"You’re awfully thorough," he murmured, his voice slightly husky.

Beatrice smirked, her emerald eyes glinting with mischief. "I believe in taking care of my guests." Her hands moved up to his shoulders, pressing lightly as she leaned in, close enough for him to catch the faintest scent of jasmine beneath the steam. "Especially the ones who need... special attention."

Lucas chuckled, tilting his head slightly. "Is that what you call this?"

She giggled, her fingers curling just slightly, her nails barely scraping against his skin. "Call it whatever you like, darling."

[ System Notification: ALERT! You are experiencing ’Slow Burn Taboo Tension’ Buff! ]

[ Effect: +50% Increased Sensory Perception | -30% Resistance to Forbidden Pleasures ]

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek. This damn system was not helping.

Beatrice’s hands didn’t stop. They slid down his arms, then to his sides, her fingertips skimming over the taut lines of muscle. The soap made everything impossibly smooth, her touch featherlight yet deliberate. She knew exactly what she was doing.

And Lucas?

Lucas was losing.

"You’re tense," Beatrice noted, her lips curling in amusement. "You should relax more."

Lucas exhaled sharply. "Hard to relax when you’re doing... that."

She laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent something deep and primal curling inside him. "Oh, darling, you’re too fun to tease."

And yet, her movements slowed, her hands lingering just a second too long before she pulled away, her gaze holding his for a fraction too long. The steam curled between them, wrapping them in an atmosphere heavy with something unspoken.

Lucas inhaled deeply. He needed to regain control of this situation. He needed to do something—anything—to turn the tide before he lost whatever shred of self-restraint he had left.

So he reached for the soap again.

Beatrice raised a brow as he lathered his hands once more, tilting her head in playful curiosity. "Oh? Taking initiative now?"

Lucas smirked, stepping closer, his hands gliding along her arms this time, down to her wrists, then slowly—very slowly—tracing back up.

"I believe in returning the favor," he murmured.

Beatrice shivered, her lips parting just slightly.

Lucas noted that reaction.

Oh?

[ System Notification: Congratulations! You have unlocked ’MILF Weakness Detection’ Skill! ]

[ Passive Effect: +10% Efficiency in Flirting | +15% Charm When Target Is ’Lonely & Neglected’ ]

Lucas nearly choked on his own breath.

This damn system.

Beatrice, unaware of the absurd notifications running through his head, simply exhaled softly as his hands moved over her skin, following the same slow, indulgent path she had taken with him. Over her shoulders, down her arms, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin near her collarbone.

"So thorough," she whispered, her voice dipping lower.

Lucas smiled. "I take my time."

The steam coiled around them, their bodies slick with soap and heat. Every movement, every touch, carried a weight of something unsaid, something forbidden.

And yet, neither of them stepped away.

Beatrice smirked, her hands lifting once more, her fingers ghosting over his jawline, then tracing down his neck, the barest hint of nails scraping against his skin.

"You’re dangerous," she murmured.

Lucas huffed a small laugh. "And you’re playing with fire."

Beatrice’s smirk deepened. "Oh, darling..." She leaned in, just enough for her breath to tickle his ear. "I love the burn."

Lucas’s heart pounded, his restraint hanging by a thread.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

And yet...

Beatrice slowly stepped back, her gaze never leaving his. The water dripped from her skin, the remnants of soap glistening under the lantern light.

"Shame," she mused, turning slightly. "I think we’re finally... clean."

Lucas exhaled, forcing himself to step back as well, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Clean."

But both of them knew the truth.

There was nothing clean about what had just happened.

Nothing at all.

Before Beatrice could make more naughty move, Lucas leaned in and captured her lips in a searing kiss. She moaned into the kiss, her body responding instinctively to his touch. She dropped the towel, her hands moving to grip Lucas’s shoulders.

Lucas’s hands moved to cup Beatrice’s ample breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples into hard peaks. She moaned into his mouth, her hands moving to grip his hair. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to trail down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses.

"Lucas," Beatrice moaned, her head falling back as Lucas’s lips moved lower. He teased her nipples with his tongue, his hands moving to grip her hips. He pulled her closer, his erection pressing against her stomach.

Beatrice’s hands moved to grip Lucas’s erection, her fingers wrapping around his length. He groaned, his head falling back as she began to stroke him. He could feel his desire building, his need for Beatrice growing with each stroke.

Lucas moved his hands to grip Beatrice’s ass, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. He could feel her wetness against his stomach, and he knew she was ready for him.

He moved to the edge of the bath, setting Beatrice down on the edge. He moved between her legs, his erection teasing her entrance. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with desire.

"Tell me you want my sword." Lucas demanded, his voice low.

"I want yo.. your sword," Beatrice moaned her hips bucking against him.

"Call me Master, say it again, Bitch!" Lucas start act like a boss rather than a crook he usually be.

"I want your sword, Master!" Beatrice bit her own lips.

With a groan, Lucas thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt.