The next morning, I called a cleaning service to clear out all of Percival's things. Then, I changed into workout clothes and went to throw out the trash.
In just one night, my body had already Janetted to show noticeable curves. But it wasn't enough—it was still too slow.
As I was thinking this, a man in gray-white workout clothes ran past me, a gust of wind following him. The strong scent of hormones almost made me lose control of the ears that were about to pop out.
Tsk.
I liked it.
I wanted it.
The wind filled with his scent made me blush, my heart racing.
"Hello, do you need something?" His deep voice suddenly rang in my ears. The sudden jolt almost made me lose control of the cat ears.
"No, no, nothing."
As soon as the words left my mouth, a surge of heat rushed through me.
This was it. The initial heatwave that every succubus experiences when they come of age.
Though I was already of age, my body had been suppressed ever since I arrived in this world. Now that the suppression was gone, I was being hit with hormones.
I was experiencing the first intense wave of desire.
If I didn't find a man soon, I couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen—this torment, these waves of passion, would continue one after another until I was utterly exhausted.
Usually, this process would take about a week to endure.
I thought about how intense the monthly heatwaves were, then I thought of this one—this first heatwave, a hundred times more intense.
Without any resolve, I grabbed onto the arm of the man who had passed by, "Help me."
He raised an eyebrow, "How can I help?"
The desire hit me hard, and my vision began to blur.
Looking at his red, soft lips, only one thought occupied my mind: to kiss him. In the next second, I closed my eyes and leaned in for a kiss.
But what I felt wasn't the soft touch I had imagined. Instead, it was something cool and a bit firm. His knuckles, distinctly shaped, pressed against my lips.
"Piper, what are you doing?" His cold voice snapped me back to reality.
But my mind was already a mess. All I could do was look at him with eyes full of helpless longing. "Can I kiss you?"
"Do you even know what you're doing?"
What am I doing?
My brain sluggishly and dully processed his question.
Isn't it just a kiss?
How petty.
After being rejected a few times, I felt a little down.
"If you're not going to agree, fine, I'll find someone else." I muttered quietly. In the next second, a minty kiss filled my mouth. His kissing technique was a bit clumsy, knocking into me a few times, even causing me a little pain.
"Be gentle... gentle," I said softly.
But he seemed to have not heard me and only kissed me harder.
"Don't move." His hands tightened around my waist, holding me firmly in his arms.
The intense kiss made me dizzy, my body weak and limp, as I collapsed into his embrace.
After the kiss ended, he lowered his head to my forehead and softly asked, "Do you want more?"
His voice was no longer as clear as before but laced with a rasp of desire.
I could feel wave after wave of emotion surging through me, and without any dignity, I softly responded, "Yes."
He let out a self-deprecating laugh before lifting me horizontally in his arms.
The sudden weightlessness caused me to gasp in surprise and cling tightly to his neck.
"I'll give it to you when we get back."
I buried my head into his chest, repeatedly mulling over those words.
The scent that was all him seeped into my mind, and in the fog, one thought became clear: When I go back, I'll kiss him and maybe do a few things we shouldn't talk about. That's the only way I'll get through this overwhelming craving.
