A Golden Birthday III

After finishing the dance with Seraphina, she released my hand with a serene smile. "Go on," she said softly. "It's Rachel's turn to have you for the night."

I nodded, genuine gratitude in my voice as I kissed the back of her hand. "Thank you for understanding, Sera."

She smiled faintly, her calm composure ever-present, as we walked back to where Rachel and Cecilia waited. For a while, I lingered with all three of them, sharing quiet conversation and laughter as the banquet wound down. But eventually, the evening came to a close.

"Come with me," Rachel said, her voice low as she slipped her hand into mine. Before I could say anything, her light mana enveloped us both, cloaking us from any curious eyes.

I felt the subtle, meticulous flow of her spell and couldn't help but marvel. 'High Integration-rank,' I realized, impressed yet again. Rachel had always been extraordinary in her command of mana, and this was no exception. In terms of spellcasting, she had surpassed me by a significant margin, her precision and depth of control unmatched.

She guided us through the halls with an effortless grace, the air shimmering faintly around us as her spell kept even Ascendant-rank senses at bay. Her room loomed ahead, its sliding door opening at the faintest brush of her mana signature.

"Wait here," she said as we stepped inside. She gestured for me to sit on the edge of the bed before disappearing into her closet.

I sat back, less nervous than I'd been with Cecilia, though the air still carried an unspoken tension. Rachel was deliberate in her movements, her presence always commanding. She had planned this moment carefully—of that much, I was certain.

When she emerged, all coherent thought left me.

She stood in the doorway, her golden hair cascading down her back, her sapphire eyes gleaming with quiet confidence. She wore black lingerie with intricate navy blue frills that hugged her figure, the delicate material accentuating her elegance rather than detracting from it. Black stockings extended up her legs, adding an air of sophistication to the ensemble.

But it was her poise, her undeniable presence, that captivated me most. She didn't fidget or glance away shyly. Rachel was Rachel—composed, confident, utterly in control.

Yet my eyes, traitorous as they were, were drawn to a certain detail. The design of her outfit accentuated her… attributes in a way that left no room for subtlety.

Rachel caught the direction of my gaze, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. But instead of growing flustered, her lips curled into a knowing smile. "I take it you approve?"

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to meet her eyes. "You look… incredible."

Her smile deepened as she walked toward me, her movements slow and deliberate. "Good," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Because tonight, Arthur, I'm going to make sure you never forget this moment."

"You won't forget this either," I murmured, my voice low as Rachel straddled my lap, her arms looping around my neck. She leaned in, her lips capturing mine in a kiss that was both deep and fervent, her hunger matching my own.

"Arthur," she whispered, her voice a mix of longing and shyness, her breath warm against my ear. "Take me. I'm yours."

Her cheeks were flushed crimson, the stark contrast to her golden hair making the sight even more enchanting. There was vulnerability in her words, but also trust—a silent promise that this moment was ours alone.

I grasped her hips gently, steadying her as we kissed again, the world outside her room fading into nothingness. In that instant, we became lost in each other, our embrace melding us into one.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Rachel stirred to the sensation of something lightly prodding her cheek. Her sapphire eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to adjust to the soft light of morning. When her gaze focused, she found Arthur sitting upright beside her, his finger gently poking her cheek with an amused grin.

"Mmhh," she mumbled, the warmth of sleep still clinging to her voice. "What are you doing?"

Arthur's chuckle was soft, his tone teasing. "Making sure you wake up before noon, Rach."

It was only then she noticed—he was topless. Her breath hitched slightly, and she felt her mouth go dry. His body was a perfect blend of athleticism and artistry, his lean muscles defined yet not overbearing. The soft lines of his abs were evident, his physique an impeccable balance between strength and grace.

And then there was his face. Sharp jawline, striking blue eyes framed by his long black hair—he was maddeningly handsome. Her heart skipped a beat, the memory of last night still fresh in her mind.

"Ow," Rachel winced as she attempted to sit up, a pang of soreness radiating from her waist. Her face twisted into a slight grimace before she exhaled deeply, her hands glowing faintly as she channeled her light magic to soothe the discomfort.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, concern flickering across his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'll survive," she replied, her lips curling into a small, playful smirk despite the lingering ache. "Though I might need to reconsider ever letting you have your way with me again."

Arthur's grin widened, but he held back any quip, instead reaching out to brush a stray strand of golden hair from her face. "You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

Rachel leaned into his touch, her sapphire eyes softening as they met his. "Well, you'll have to manage without me until after Seraphina's turn."

"I'll survive, but will you, my insatiable Saintess?" Arthur teased, his lips curving into a playful smirk.

"Oh?" Rachel arched an eyebrow, her tone sharp with mock challenge. "Is that a gauntlet you're throwing down, Nightingale?"

"It is," he replied with a grin, leaning forward to pinch her nose lightly. Her expression immediately soured into a playful scowl, swatting his hand away.

"Well played," Rachel said, her voice laced with amusement as she swung her legs over the bed and stood. She stretched her arms languidly above her head, the blanket slipping off her form and pooling around her feet.

Arthur froze, his eyes inevitably drawn to certain... features.

Rachel caught his gaze instantly, her lips curling into a sly grin. "Well, well, looks like you've already lost."

"That doesn't count as a loss," Arthur retorted, though his faintly reddened ears betrayed him.

"Staring doesn't, perhaps," Rachel said, giggling softly as she reached for her robe, "but the fact that you clearly want to pounce on me does."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, an idea clearly forming. "Say… with healing magic, couldn't—"

"No," Rachel cut him off sharply, shooting him a look that was half exasperation, half amused affection. "And you called me insatiable."

"Only because you are," he quipped.

Rachel rolled her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Come on, let's get ready before you get any more… excited."

"You shouldn't tease me, then," Arthur shot back, his tone carrying an edge of playful accusation.

Rachel fixed him with a stare, crossing her arms in mock indignation. "Oh, you better take that back, Nightingale."

"Just go and change," Arthur said, forcing himself to look away, though his resolve wavered as he stole a quick glance at her. He coughed, clearing his throat as if that would somehow disguise his wandering eyes.

"Honestly, you're hopeless," Rachel muttered, though her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as memories of the previous night surfaced unbidden. Shaking her head to dispel the blush creeping up her face, she grabbed her robe and headed toward the bathroom. 

"You're a beast," she called over her shoulder, her voice a mix of fond exasperation and teasing.

Arthur smirked to himself but didn't reply, instead listening as the sound of water began to fill the air. For all her sharp words and feigned irritation, he knew Rachel was just as flustered as he was. And, he thought with a wry grin, that knowledge made it all the harder to resist teasing her again later.