Ultimate Spin System: Ero Spin?-Chapter 99 - Wrong

Lena’s breath was uneven as she finally, forcefully, tore herself away from the doorframe. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her face burning hotter than ever. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to move—to get out of there before someone noticed her presence.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry.

With stiff, mechanical movements, she turned away, stepping back from the men’s bathhouse. The moment she rounded the corner, she pressed her back against the wooden wall, clenching her fists against her sides.

Her mind was a tangled mess.

What the hell was that?

What the hell was she doing?

Lucas had never been just an ordinary stepbrother to her. That much she had always known. But this... watching him like that, witnessing him in a way she had no right to—it was something else entirely.

And the worst part?

The part that made her stomach twist painfully?

She wasn’t sure if she felt disgusted.

Or if she felt something else.

She inhaled sharply, shaking her head. No. No, this was wrong. She couldn’t think about it anymore. She needed to act normal. Pretend none of this ever happened. If she let it show on her face, if Lucas or Beatrice even suspected that she had been there, watching...

She shuddered.

No. She wouldn’t let that happen.

Clenching her jaw, Lena forced herself to move, her bare feet making soft, careful steps as she made her way back to her room.

She needed to forget.

She needed to sleep, but she can’t, neither sleep or forgetting the dirty show. She feel hunger and mix of weird feeling.

A Few Hours Later...

After the dirty battle with someone’s wife.

Lucas let out a slow breath, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. His body was still warm from the lingering heat of the bath, his muscles relaxed, yet his mind remained clouded. The aftereffects of his earlier indulgence still clung to him, the faint scent of soap and sweat mixing in the air.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, watching his own reflection with unreadable eyes. His body had calmed down, but something deep inside him still stirred—a hunger that had only been momentarily sated.

Shaking his head, he exhaled sharply and grabbed a towel, drying himself off before slipping into a set of clothes. The inn was silent now, the air heavy with the weight of the night.

His steps were slow as he made his way back to his room, passing the dimly lit corridors, the soft flicker of lanterns casting long shadows along the walls. As he reached his door, he hesitated for a brief moment before stepping inside.

The room was as he had left it—quiet, untouched. He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, rolling his shoulders. His body was spent, exhaustion finally creeping in.

Yet, at that moment, a faint knock echoed through the door.

Lucas frowned.

At this hour?

He stood up, walking toward the door, and when he opened it, his brows lifted slightly in surprise.

Lena.

She stood there, her expression unreadable, yet something about her posture was off—stiff, hesitant. Her hands were clenched slightly at her sides, and for the briefest moment, she avoided his gaze.

Lucas tilted his head.

"Lena? What is it?"

She shifted on her feet. "I... um..." Her voice was unusually quiet, lacking its usual sharpness. "I’m hungry."

Lucas blinked, then let out a small chuckle. "Hungry?"

Lena nodded stiffly, still not meeting his eyes.

He raised a brow. Something was definitely off. But he decided not to push it.

"Alright. Come in," he said, stepping aside to let her enter.

Lena hesitated for a fraction of a second before walking past him, her movements rigid, as if she was overly conscious of every step she took.

Lucas shut the door behind her and turned to his inventory, pulling out a small bag of preserved food. He tossed it onto the bed.

"Here. It’s not much, but it’ll do for now."

Lena glanced at the bag but made no move to grab it. Instead, she stood awkwardly, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides.

Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Something wrong?"

She jolted slightly, then quickly shook her head. "No. Nothing."

But her voice was forced.

Lucas didn’t miss the way her hands trembled faintly before she clenched them into fists.

His gaze sharpened.

This wasn’t just hunger.

Something had changed.

Lucas remained frozen for a moment, his mind sluggish from exhaustion, but something in Lena’s posture kept tugging at him—an unspoken tension. His instincts flared, but his body was too drained to fully react. He watched as she stood there, gripping the bag of food so tightly that the paper crinkled under her fingers.

She wasn’t eating.

She wasn’t even moving.

Her breathing had turned uneven, her chest rising and falling in slow, ragged motions. The air in the room felt heavier, charged with something unseen yet palpable.

Lucas frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Lena, are you just going to stand there?" His voice was rough from fatigue, laced with mild irritation. "Eat or take it with you. Do whatever you want. I’m too tired for this."

Silence.

Lena didn’t answer.

Lucas exhaled slowly, sinking back into the mattress, his body demanding rest. His eyelids grew heavier by the second. He barely had the energy to keep them open.

"Just... close the door on your way out," he muttered, the words slurring as sleep pulled him under.

His consciousness drifted.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

---

Lena didn’t move.

She stood rooted in place, her nails digging into the bag she still hadn’t opened. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, loud and erratic, each pulse sending heat coursing through her veins.

What’s happening to me?

Her body felt strange. Foreign. Every muscle in her tensed, like something inside her was screaming for release. A pressure that had nothing to do with hunger twisted in her gut, making her shudder.

She stole a glance at Lucas.

He was already asleep.

Completely vulnerable.

His chest rose and fell in steady, slow motions, his face slack with exhaustion. His damp hair clung to his forehead, his half-open shirt revealing the toned muscle underneath. The scent of soap and lingering sweat from his earlier bath still clung to him, a mix that made something coil tighter inside her.

Lena’s breath came out shakily.

Why do I feel like this?

Her fingers clenched harder around the bag. Her thoughts were a mess—chaotic and tangled, like a whirlwind she couldn’t escape. The images from earlier still played in her head, relentless and vivid. She tried to shake them away, but they refused to leave.

Heat crawled up her spine.

Her skin tingled, hypersensitive to the smallest movement.

Her throat felt dry.

I need to leave. Now.

Lena forced her legs to move, but they barely responded. Each step felt sluggish, as if she was wading through thick, invisible restraints. Her breath hitched when her gaze flickered back to Lucas.

He was still sleeping.

Still right there.

So close.

Her stomach twisted painfully.

This isn’t normal. This isn’t me.

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing hard. The urge pressing against her was unfamiliar—intense in a way that frightened her. She wanted to move, to turn around and walk out the door, but her body refused to obey.

Instead, she stood there.

Frozen.

Waiting.

Falling deeper into something she didn’t understand.

Lucas forgot, Lena didn’t know. Heartbound Desires, Another perverted passive skill was turn on. Make Lena want to have sex with Lucas who was just sleep.

Lena’s breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling in uneven waves as she stood there, frozen.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else—the ticking of the clock, the soft rustle of the curtains swaying with the night breeze, even the sound of Lucas’s slow, steady breathing.

She was too close.

Way too close.

She didn’t even remember moving, but now she was hovering over him, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his skin radiating into the cool night air.

Her lips trembled.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, aching to reach forward—to touch, to confirm that he was really there, that this wasn’t some fever dream messing with her head.

The room felt suffocating.

Why am I doing this?

Her mind screamed at her to stop, to pull back, to leave before she did something stupid—before she let this unexplainable heat, this need, sink any deeper into her bones.

But she couldn’t move.

Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs like it was trying to break free, her body betraying her in ways she didn’t understand.

She felt feverish.

Restless.

Like something inside her had snapped and now there was no way to piece it back together.

Her breath hitched as she found herself staring at his face, her gaze tracing the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his damp hair stuck to his forehead, the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

The scent of soap and something undeniably him filled her nose, making her stomach tighten.

"God, what’s wrong with me?"