Supreme Spouse System.-Chapter 26: Aria – The Head Maid. [R-18]

Aria – The Head Maid.

The house was shrouded in quiet, only illuminated by sparse lanterns and the silver-pale moon seeping through windows. Leon's footsteps made barely a sound as he descended the eastern hall, the soft thud of his boots a beat to his reverie. The corridor wound and curved—left, right, left—moving him from the more opulent sections of the house, into a wing where her room lay... Aria's room.

Unlike the lavish rooms set aside for nobles and esteemed guests, her room was hidden away on the opposite side of the mansion, behind a massive engraved door. It wasn't lavish, but it was refined in its own right—made of dark oak, with plain silver carvings that shone in the faint light. Leon paused before it, cocking his head with a slow smile. The excitement built in his chest like flames waiting to burst.

He moistened his lips, bent close to the door, and whispered into the air beneath his breath with a teasing sparkle in his golden eyes,

"Just you, me, and this little corner of the world tonight... my little maid."

He knocked softly. No reply.

He knocked again—this time with a little more assurance. Still, nothing.

Just as he threw up his hand for the third time, he caught the rustle of clothes and the whisper of footsteps heading his way on the other side. A split second later, the door eased open.

And there she stood—Aria.

Leon's golden eyes skimmed her head to toe, slow and remorseless. Her purple hair as long as night cascaded past her shoulders in a silken veil. Her nightgown was the same color as her hair, draping softly against her body, ending just above her knees. The material was lightweight and transparent, not coarse—but sufficient to render a man breathless. His eyes smoldered with soft ownership, resting on the soft shape of her nipples, hard beneath the silk, tracing down her exposed legs to the tiny jerk of her thighs. She let her weight go from one foot to the other, wondering whether to close or open the door further. Violet eyes, once so tranquil and inscrutable, now widely surprised as she met his gaze. "Y-You? I mean... L-Lord..."

She spoke softly, hesitantly—an effort to be composed but undermined by a slight quaver in her voice.

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Aria gazed at him and believe he was still wearing his golden-white robe, open to the point of showing the lean muscles beneath. His black hair was mussed just a little, and his golden eyes shone with a wolfish glint. Her cheeks flushed crimson as her eyes darted away for an instant, then snapped back to meet his.

"W-What do you mean you're here, my lord?" she inquired, whispering barely above a breath, her hand clenching on the doorframe. "I-Is something... amiss?"

"Shh... You don't need to make so much noise this late at night," Leon whispered. He just took a step forward, bridging the space between them. One hand moved forward and pushed her back softly—just enough to step into the room. The other went out and closed the door behind him softly.

Her breath was caught.

The air between them thickened. Her back lightly touched the wall as she looked up at him and he took a step closer. His smile was boyish, playful—but there was warmth in his eyes. Destructive, attractive warmth. He said, "Now tell me what you saying my little maid."

She said, "I... I wasn't expecting you."

He came in close, his voice a soft whisper against her ear. "Really? You weren't imagining me behind the door just like this... nightgown and everything?"

Aria's mouth parted, but nothing came out. Her fingers fisted around the top of her nightgown, but she didn't retreat. She didn't fight either. Her silence was an answer unto itself.

He entered slowly, his hand sweeping down her arm, following the silky skin with a reverent touch. Her body stiffened, but not with fear—of anticipation.

he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Someone... may see..." she breathed back, her eyes dropping. "And if Young Mistress Rias— she would despise me... And—"

But her words were lost under the soft pressure of his lips. She gasped, shocked, but her hands came up and softly wrapped into his robe. She kissed him back. Not at once. Not ardently. But slowly, as if her heart had raced ahead of her fears and softly whispered to them all to be quiet.

The kiss intensified. Tongues touched, danced, he keeps kiss but his hands caressed down her sensual body and settled on her round and plump ass.

Mmm~

Aria groaned in Leon's mouth when she felt Leon's hands playing and fondling her ass.

'So big and soft' meanwhile Leon was marvelling this time again at how Aria's ass felt in his hands, her ass was big, soft while being firm at the same time! And when they finally pulled away, a thin line of warmth lingered between their lips.

"No one will hate you," Leon murmured, voice deep and steady as thunder rolling in the distance. "Not while I'm here. Not even Rias."

Aria gazed up at him. Her face impassive, but her violet eyes glittered—like moonlight on calm water. Delicate, doubtful, but brimming with silent tempests.

"Promise?" Her voice was barely audible, but there was power under the whisper. A desire for reassurance. A soft begging.

"Promise," he replied firmly.

She froze—just one heartbeat longer—before moving into him, burying her cheek against the hard heat of his chest. Her arms crept up around his back, shivering a little, as if she feared the moment would slip away.

"Then... I'll belong to you," she whispered. "Just... just for tonight..."

His arms crushed her waist, holding her like something fragile—something that couldn't be replaced.

"Not just tonight, sweetheart," he said into her hair. "Every night. Every moment you desire me."

She shivered in his arms, and he could feel her heart pounding against his. With tender strength, he picked her up in his arms. She gasped, her arms instinctively around his neck.

"L-Lord..."

He smiled down at her—eyes brimming with tenderness, hunger, and a promise beyond words. His lips met hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. Then another. He walked her toward the bed with deliberate steps, kissing her between each breath, until they stood at the edge.

As he knelt, setting her down on the chill sheets, he finally saw her—really saw her—in the moonlight.

And it took his breath.

There she reclined, her hair—a waterfall of violet silk—spilled out around her like a royal cloak. The diaphanous nightgown she wore clung to every voluptuous curve, the material near transparent in the light. It caressed her skin, tracing the rise of her breasts, the gentle incline of her hips, and the seductive softness between her thighs.

She was like a goddess sketched in lust and moonlight—blushing, but unashamed.

Her eyes met his. Wanting. Needing. And then... She tried to shield herself with her hands, modesty flickering like a candle in a storm, but he caught her wrists in his palms—gentle, firm, unyielding.

"No hiding from me tonight," he whispered, his lips brushing her knuckles. "Not when you're this beautiful."

Her blush deepened, and she bit her lower lip—but she didn't pull away.

Watching her like that, his blood raged and his cock became instantly rock hard, before he could even think about it, he began to strip himself, the golden-white robe slid from Leon's wide shoulders, the silken material falling silently to the ground.

The gentle illumination of moonlight followed the sharp ridges of his chest — hard, chiseled, like a statue sculpted by the gods. His flesh, a hue of fair kissed by sun, shone under the light of silver. Muscles tensed with every breath he drew, the strong curve of his abdomen drawing her eye down. Her gaze dropped, resting where his need stood tall between his legs — his erection long, thick, and pulsing with unspoken need. It wasn't the first time she'd seen it... and yet, each time stole her breath, made her heart flutter. A warmth spread between her legs, anticipation curling like a snake in her stomach.

She turned her head, cheeks flushing with a pink blush. But she couldn't help the way her fingers gripped the sheets, or the way her thighs moved subtly in agitated need.

Leon sat on the bed, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. He knelt beside her, pushing a loose strand of hair back from her face.