Hayasaka Ai's heart burned with desire.
A fire she couldn't—wouldn't—extinguish.
Want Master.
The words pulsed in her veins like a second heartbeat.
Want to be with Master.
Forever.
Never apart.
Ah—
Want to be kept.
Want to be touched.
Want to press against him, feel every inch of him.
The craving was visceral, primal—as essential as breathing.
Logically, she knew this wasn't truly her. The canine-form mental contamination, the trauma-bonding from Takakai's rescue—it all warped her emotions. This wasn't love. Just chaos masquerading as passion.
But so what?
She knewTakakai. Not as some idealized fantasy, but the real man—flaws and all. His protectiveness, his refusal to abandon even non-lovers like Kaguya...
Unlike those tragic heroines blinded by sweet lies, her eyes were wide open.
So if this was "impulsive"?
Let it be.
"Master~"
Her voice dripped honey as she closed the distance, arms looping around Takakai's neck.
The girl was devastating—innocence and seduction woven together, hips swaying with subconscious canine mannerisms.
Takakai recoiled—
And she followed, pressing flush against him, azure eyes glazed with need.
This... is bad.
His expression twisted.
Every instinct screamed to take her, to pin her down and—
No.
With his enhanced physique, even a moment's loss of control could break her. Not some sexy roleplay, but literal bone-snapping, organ-rupturing carnage.
(Even hentai enthusiasts would balk at that.)
"Master~"
Undeterred, Hayasaka leaned in, lips parting—
THUD!
She was on the bed before realizing it, Takakai's weight crushing her into the mattress.
The kiss that followed was punishment.
No tenderness. Only domination—tongue invading, stealing her breath, reducing her to a gasping, squirming mess.
Fear flickered in her chest.
Instincts from her dog-form surfaced—submit, yield, show belly—and just like that, she went limp, surrendering utterly.
Takakai paused.
Wait, why'd she stop resisting?!
(Was there a hidden masochist streak under that maidly poise?)
With a frustrated groan, he broke the kiss.
"Haah... Hah... Master... too rough..."
A silver strand connected their lips as Hayasaka lay dazed, drool trailing from her mouth.
The scene was obscene.
So was Takakai's raging libido.
"You're too fragile right now. Get through a proper mission first—gain some enhancements."
He exhaled sharply, wrestling his urges back into their cage.
"Can't... stay?"
Crawling toward him on all fours, she gazed up with puppy-dog eyes, hips swaying faintly.
This little—!
Was this the mental contamination talking? Or was Hayasaka just that good an actress?
Either way, it was lethal.
"No. I won't watch you die here."
A karate chop to her head.
"Ow?!"
She flopped face-first into the sheets, the seductress act crumbling.
"My body's beyond human now. Even daily life requires control. Intimacy? One slip, and you're splatter. So no—not yet."
He ruffled her hair, scowling.
(How the hell did Superman manage without turning Lois into paste? Comic book logic.)
"But I just... want to be near Master."
Her voice was small now—a discarded stray pawing at his sleeve.
Takakai sighed.
"...Fine. Stay. But no more teasing. I'm not some rabid beast, but even saints have limits."
"Thank you, Master~"
She nuzzled his neck.
"I said stop with the—! Ugh."
For a moment, peace seemed possible.
Then—
"Master must be uncomfortable... Let me... serve you properly~"
Her eyes shimmered with pink hearts as she slid downward.
Takakai could only groan, resigning himself to a very long night.