Lucius was soon seated back on the motel bed with the head of the woman on his lap, slowly caressing her hair as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
His fingers combed through strands of silver that shimmered faintly in the dim room light.
'I can't even believe this…' Lucius thought, staring down at her like she was a puzzle he hadn't agreed to solve.
At this point his life no longer resembled reality. It was a novel — one of those over-the-top fantasy rom-com harem novels where the protagonist couldn't walk five steps without a new woman appearing to throw herself at him.
He knew he looked good — he was narcissistic and he wasn't delusional.
But this? He was rizzing women left and right… well except the Saintess who was trying to turn him into a personal dick toy.
This shouldn't be so easy.
"Yes, rub my hair more…" Elena murmured, a soft moan escaping her lips.
Lucius's lips pressed into a thin line.
