The World Is Mine For The Taking

I felt like I was slowly drifting—

Like my purpose was beginning to crumble beneath me.

I couldn't explain it clearly, but the weight of that emptiness had been pressing against my chest for days now.

A slow, tightening coil of uncertainty.

And if I were to give it a name… I knew deep down that it all connected to him.

Leon.

That man... that maddening man.

He had no idea just how deeply his presence had wrapped itself around my thoughts, my actions—my very being.

It was frustrating. Embarrassing. And yet, somehow… addictive.

Worse still, I could feel myself unconsciously reshaping who I was—tweaking my habits, my behavior, even the way I dressed—just to fit what I thought might be his preference.

As if, by doing so, I could twist his mind and drive him wild for me.

But even with all that effort, I knew in the pit of my stomach that it wouldn't be enough. Not really.

Because even if Leon harbored the tiniest hint of affection toward me… no matter how fragile or fleeting… there was no way he'd throw away the happiness he had now for something as uncertain as me.

That was just the reality of it.

I also knew I couldn't satisfy him on my own. I'd be lying to myself if I believed otherwise.

Leon's libido… it was monstrous. Relentless. Almost insatiable.

Even though I had a high sex drive of my own, it still paled in comparison to his.

I'd be drained after just round one—wrecked and breathless—while he'd still be burning for more.

And let's be honest.

No one wants to keep tasting the same thing over and over again.

Even the richest, most decadent flavor will eventually become dull on the tongue.

I understood that. Because I was the same.

Feed me the same dish every day, no matter how perfect it tasted at first, and I'd eventually push the plate away. Crave something new.

So I knew... I knew that applied to Leon, too.

If he kept tasting the same woman again and again, eventually… the appeal would fade.

Sure, I could try to keep things fresh. I could offer up different kinds of pleasures. I could tempt him with back hole sex, dive into roleplay fantasies, whip out the restraints and collars for BDSM. I'd even be willing to go further—to have pregnancy sex if that's what it took to keep his fire alive.

Hell, I wouldn't even mind if he got me pregnant.

Gabrielle was already carrying his child, and I was certain they'd already tried it. And if he wasn't averse to doing that with her...

Then maybe… maybe he'd be open to doing it with me, too.

Maybe. Maybe not.

It depended on a lot of things.

Later, after the lecture ended in the afternoon, I gathered my things and prepared to leave. As I made my way out of the lecture hall, my eyes instinctively scanned the crowd.

And there he was.

Leon.

Our gazes collided.

For a second—just a fleeting heartbeat—we stared at each other across the room.

I forced my face into a calm, composed expression, but my heart betrayed me. It thumped violently in my chest, each beat pounding louder than the last. A blush was threatening to rise, heat already crawling up my neck.

Before it could overtake me, I broke eye contact and looked away, spinning on my heel and marching out.

I made my way back to my office in hurried strides, ignoring the buzz in my head and the tightness in my chest. As soon as I entered the room, I shut the door firmly behind me, turned, and leaned my back against the wall.

A sigh slipped out before I could stop it.

Heavy. Frustrated. Long.

I'd been sighing so much lately, it was becoming second nature.

"I can't… If I looked at him for more than a second just now, I would've definitely blushed and squealed like an idiot..."

"So that's why you looked away?"

"Uwahh?!"

I jolted—completely startled.

The voice was low, teasing—close. So close that it vibrated through the air beside my ear. A shiver shot straight down my spine.

I whipped my head toward the source, eyes wide.

Leon.

He was standing there. Right beside me. Smiling, ear to ear. That familiar face of his was just as striking as always—but now… now there was something different about him. His jawline was more defined and his expression was bolder. Taller, maybe. More mature.

Had he… gotten even more handsome?

"W-What are you doing here?!" I blurted out. "I just closed the door—I didn't see you come in!"

My hands moved on their own, frantically gesturing around the room as if trying to explain the impossibility of his sudden appearance.

"I got in before you did."

"H-How did that even happen?!"

"There's no point in worrying about that right now," he replied smoothly, stepping closer.

And then—just like that—he placed his hand firmly on the wall beside my head. His arm blocked my escape, caging me in, his body close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Why does it feel like you're avoiding me?"

"M-Me? Avoiding you? That's… nonsense!" I stammered, my words barely holding together.

"You're literally averting your gaze right now."

"N-No, it's just..."

I tried to keep my composure, but I couldn't look at him. My eyes slipped away on their own. If I looked him in the eyes for even a second longer, I knew I'd burst into flames.

And then... he laughed.

A rich, deep chuckle that vibrated through the air.

"Fuhahahahaha...!"

I narrowed my eyes, trying to sound annoyed despite my flaming cheeks. "W-What are you laughing at?!"

He grinned down at me, his voice soft but amused. "No, it's just... it feels like the Irene I used to know is finally back."

That threw me off.

"...What do you mean by that?"

He leaned back a little, eyes gliding over me with a nostalgic gaze.

"I mean… the way you're dressed, the way you're acting. This isn't the Irene from the past few months—the one who's been desperately trying to earn my affection. No… this feels like the Irene I slept with for the first time."

His words hit me with unexpected weight.

I blinked, confused. Disoriented.

Sure, I wasn't wearing anything special today—just my usual suit, a crisp blazer, pencil skirt, and sheer tights. I had stopped dressing more provocatively. Gone back to my professional look.

But… was he saying that made me the same person from before?

Somehow… that felt a little insulting.

"Leon..." I said quietly, a hint of sharpness in my tone. "I don't think I appreciate that. These past few years—I haven't changed. Not really."

I stepped forward, brushing past his arm as I moved toward my desk.

"So how about you come sit down—and we talk about this thing you're trying to bring up?"