The Bet (17)
I hesitated for a moment, and he egged me on with a taunting grin. "What, scared you'll lose?"
"Let's do it."
He knew me too well. Once he said that, there was no backing down from the challenge. Besides, it wasn't like I was drinking the pure stuff—no big loss there. Mixing a 100-strength aphrodisiac with an 80-strength suppressant would leave just a 20-strength aphrodisiac residue. Hardly anything to worry about. Unless he somehow whipped up a 200-strength one, anyway.
"You know it's not just about dumping in more ingredients, right?"
"I know."
"And experience counts for a lot too, yeah?"
Terria just shrugged like it was no big deal. Magic—especially alchemy—wasn't all theory. Some things you could only learn through trial and error. You could stare at a cookbook all day and still never beat someone who's cooked for ten straight days. Victory was mine, obviously.
But then the thought hits me.
I'm not some cliché character from a generic novel, too dumb to see the pattern. By now, I should realize it: I've never won a single bet against him.
Probably the same this time. He never takes a bet he might lose, so he's definitely hiding something. Maybe digging a trap I can't escape.
That's why he's prepping to drink his aphrodisiac ahead of time. Just in case. If I stay cautious and sharp, maybe I can still beat him.
God, what an idiot I am. Accepting a bet I'm bound to lose—though there's no real proof, it just feels that way. Still, I have my reasons for going along.
"Terria."
I called out to him without lifting my eyes from the table. This wasn't something to say while meeting his gaze. Plus, my cheeks felt flushed. I was a little tired. Hours of intense potion-making had left sweat beading on my forehead, like I'd just worked out. Brainwork burned more calories than you'd think.
"Yeah?"
"You know, you're the worst."
I said it flatly. It was embarrassing to bring up, but if not now, when? I tried to play it cool.
"I still don't get what you really want from me, and that's frustrating. The way you toy with me like I'm a puppet, with no way for me to fight back—that pisses me off. And treating me like I'm not even human? Yeah, that sucks too."
"Getting a bit cheeky, are we?"
Whether my words irked him or not, he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. I trembled slightly, scared, but I had to say this.
"But right now... it doesn't feel like that."
"...What?"
"I don't even know how long it's been since I researched magic with someone."
Feeling his gaze boring down, I kept my head low and spoke in a dry tone. "Sure, it annoys me that it's you of all people, but part of me is relieved too. You're more skilled than any mage I've met, and when you're focused on research, it's... nice."
"..."
"Honestly? I'm having fun right now. The key part is... I wonder if it'd feel the same with anyone else there instead of you. Like you said, maybe it's special because it's us. No one knows each other like we do, right?"
I looked up at him then, flashing a bright smile—innocent, a touch shy. Just expressing what I felt, pure and honest, no ulterior motives.
"Don't read into it. Our relationship isn't the kind that fixes itself with a few sweet words."
Terria looked displeased, but in a different way—like he hadn't expected me to say that.
"...I know. You'll probably hate me till the day you die, after what I did."
"And you? Why talk like you're the exception?"
"Hating you takes too much out of me... I don't know. Is it that hating you is exhausting so I don't, or do I just... can't?"
"What the hell is that?"
"Just... it is."
Terria's lips twitched, conflicted, before he turned away. Then he added curtly, "You know I'm going easy on you, right?"
"...Yeah."
He was a petty one. I turned back to the potions. We were in the final stages now—the most critical part. Dozens of vials, each mixed in precise order and ratios to maximize the suppressant concentration.
Staring at the colorful array filling the table, something felt off right away. My body was strangely hot. Worse than before. My breathing quickened, chest tight, chills running down my spine without reason. I needed to focus, but my head was foggy. Just finish this, win the bet—why couldn't I calculate the components? Like mist in my brain.
Am I catching a cold? I touched my forehead and stumbled, foot slipping.
"Careful."
"Nngh..."
Terria caught my back as I fell, and I opened my eyes in relief. His scent flooded my nose—nothing new, I'd smelled it before. A hint of sweat, but same for me.
"Your face is red. You okay?"
"...Just hot."
I tried to pull away from his arms, but my body felt heavy. Like I wanted to stay nestled against him. Harder than it should be to stand. I'd thought he just caught my back, but now his arm was around my waist, warm and steady. His hand brushed my side softly, and my body reacted intensely, hypersensitive.
Not normal, but no time to dwell. Probably some trick of his. Whatever—focus on the experiment.
Of course, after botching the final steps repeatedly, I glared at him in despair. Terria whistled innocently, looking away.
"Ugh, no proof, so..."
"Proof? Of what?"
"You pulled some shady move, didn't you?"
He didn't deny it, just shrugged like think what you want. Instead, he changed the subject. "Still, looks drinkable. See? Almost clear."
"Easy for you to say—you're not drinking it."
"That too, yeah."
"You're the worst."
The tiny vial held about two sips of pale red liquid. Practically a tie. It had aphrodisiac effects, but so faint it barely counted. No burden at all.
Still hated drinking it.
"We're gonna fuck anyway—do I really have to?"
"It's a bet. Drink up."
"Can't we clean the lab first?"
"Nope."
"Sigh..."
I sighed, picking up the small glass bottle. The faint red liquid sloshed ominously. I uncapped it, sniffed—surprisingly like water. Half-doubting, I gulped it down. Cool on the tongue, a slight burn in my throat, but otherwise tasteless. Could've been water.
"How is it?"
"Curious? Drink it yourself."
"Pass."
Terria snarked, but aside from the irritation, really no effect. That faint itch all over? Already there before.
"Nothing. Too dilute, maybe... huh?"
Definitely thought that, but... my panties feel a little damp.
Come to think of it, I've been rubbing my thighs together unconsciously. Realizing it made heat surge immediately.
"What's wrong?"
"Just... hotter..."
His soft, concerned tone made my heart race oddly. I gazed at him with pitiful, longing eyes until he stepped closer, snapping me out of it.
Right. This is the aphrodisiac.
Not desperately horny, just a subtle warmth—bearable. But I'd just drunk it—did it kick in this fast?
"Le-let's clean up first. Lab's a mess..."
Just overheating, I panted, flinging open the window. Leaning on the frame, I savored the breeze, bending forward, ass out.
"Eut... haa..."
Wind teasing my clothes against my nipples sent fuzzy, ambiguous pleasure rippling through. Body more sensitive now. Gotta clean quick and go. I reached back to gather my hair, oblivious to him approaching, exposing my pale nape coolly.
Why my belly...?
"Kyaa!? Wh-what!?"
Sudden hands pressing, hugging my belly—I whipped around, but Terria buried his nose in my nape, inhaling deeply.
"Pervert! What're you—!"
His touch on my abdomen and neck melted my strength; I slumped against his chest. He whispered hotly in my ear.
"I can't hold back."
"H-hold back what? Don't press my belly...!"
He kept kneading my soft stomach firmly. Fingertips rubbing hard, palm pressing the slight mound gently. Each time, electric jolts made me twitch.
Not just belly-touching. The spot mattered—below the navel, that protective swell guarding my precious core. His sticky caresses there were dangerous.
"Gonna do it now. Right here."
"What? Bed's better... nngh, stop touching there...!"
Body was wrong. Sex in the lab, where we'd just researched? No way I wanted that—but a sneaky thrill wondered if it'd be thrillingly different. Because he kept stroking that tingling lower belly.
I rationalized. Aphrodisiac's fault. All of it. That's why every spot he touched burned sensitive.
"Ariel, you're so fucking horny."
Words that'd normally offend sounded good now.
"Practically begging me to fuck you. Your fault."
His confession of desire, my lips curving slack and happy—all the aphrodisiac's doing.