Bewitched by the Wine
Clink!
Two glasses filled with wine touch lightly, ringing out with a clear, crystalline chime.
Ivan sips his wine, savoring the flavor and aroma. He'd been drinking more often lately, but this was vacation time, and they weren't overdoing it anyway, so it didn't matter.
“……”
Levitch takes a sip too, but every time her eyes meet Ivan's, she awkwardly averts her gaze and turns her head away.
From an observer's perspective, there was no telling what was going on with her, but since it wasn't hurting anyone, he didn't bring it up.
Without even simple snacks, they nursed their drinks as time slipped by. Each time their glasses emptied and refilled, they clinked them together. Besides the bottles they'd brought, they pulled out more from storage and kept going.
Just as the mood was starting to warm up, she tentatively leaned her body against Ivan's shoulder.
“Ugh…”
“…You okay? You seem pretty wasted. Maybe we should head up.”
Ivan's voice carried genuine concern, but she shook her head no and clung even closer instead.
Her face was already flushed from the alcohol, and her body had gone somewhat limp.
In the end, just as he pried her off and tried to help her upstairs, she suddenly shoved him back onto the sofa with surprising force and slowly climbed on top.
Thud!
“…Levitch?”
“Haa… huu…”
As if she hadn't heard a word, she simply straddled his body, collapsing onto him and burying her face in his scent.
“……”
What the hell—like some wolf turning into a cat all of a sudden. He couldn't help but be flustered.
Even trying to shake her off was pointless; she clung so tightly there was no dislodging her.
After inhaling his scent for what felt like ages, she parted her small mouth and began nibbling at his shoulder and neck with her teeth.
It didn't hurt at all, of course—not with that little pressure—but the sensation of her teeth grazing him felt oddly strange.
“……”
Drinking alone with a guy and getting this wasted and clingy? For a woman with a boyfriend, this was absolutely off-limits.
Ivan knew that too, which was why he'd been suppressing the rising heat, determined not to cross the line.
Honestly, though—as a man, could anyone resist when a pretty girl like this gets drunk, clings to you, and starts biting your body?
No fucking way.
“Shit… that pretty face of yours is nothing but trouble.”
She was too wasted to hear anyway, so he muttered under his breath and simply scooped her into his arms, standing up.
Even as their positions shifted, her focus remained solely on his body, not the movement, so there was no big resistance—just a little squirming at the sudden change.
Ivan headed straight upstairs to the bedroom.
Normally, they'd at least rinse off first, but right now… that wasn't happening.
In the end, he lay down on the bed still holding her.
Pushing her away wasn't even on his mind anymore. All he could do was wait for morning to come and hope she'd let go on her own.
Chirp. Tweet chirp.
“Mm…”
The birdsong filtering in from outside slowly drew Levitch awake.
Still half-dazed, with no clear memory of last night, she focused on shaking off sleep.
Only once her mind fully cleared did she realize she was cradled in someone's arms.
“…Huh?”
Firm yet warm embrace. Massive, sturdy arms holding her like a doll, tight and unyielding.
Her thoughts froze, body stiffening as her gaze slowly drifted upward.
And there was Ivan's face, right in front of her.
He was still asleep, unmoving—like he had no intention of ever letting go.
“…!!!”
She jolted in shock, mouth gaping silently.
At the same time, fragmented memories of last night flooded back.
Drunk, she'd pushed him onto the sofa and climbed on top, hugging him like a lover, sniffing his scent, nibbling his shoulder and neck.
The faint marks still lingered—reddened traces and teeth imprints, blurry but undeniable proof it wasn't a dream.
What the hell did I do…!
She'd gotten carried away with the vibe, drank too much, and caused a scene.
A girl with a boyfriend, pulling that shit—what must Ivan think of her now?
Time to slip out. She started shifting carefully, but his grip stayed ironclad, refusing to release her.
It felt like silent pressure, as if he wouldn't even allow her to leave.
From his side, it probably wasn't intentional, but to an outsider, it might seem forceful.
But Levitch? She didn't hate it.
No—strangely, she kind of liked it.
In the end, she spent the next two hours fully sober, feeling his scent and body against her until he finally stirred.
Two hours later, Ivan opened his eyes and sat up.
The first thing he saw was Levitch, head bowed meekly, sitting there quiet as a mouse.
“…Levitch?”
“Y-yeah…?”
At his call, she snapped her head up, meeting his eyes.
Her bright yellow ones darted around in panic, but she didn't look away.
“Looks like you're up. Remember what happened last night?”
“…Uh, no. What happened…?”
She played dumb at his question, eyes wide with feigned innocence.
Should he tell her the truth?
Knowing her personality, she'd freak out if she heard the details.
Ivan pondered for a moment, then shook his head slightly.
“Nah, nothing happened. You were just really drunk, so I carried you up to the bedroom.”
“R-right? Ahaha…”
Levitch laughed it off, visibly relieved.
Sometimes a white lie beats the truth.
“…Can you let go now? It's getting kinda stuffy like this.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Ivan had even forgotten he was still holding her.
He released her right away, and she hopped up, stretching her loose twin tails back into a tight ponytail before getting out of bed.
“Wait downstairs. I'll wash up and come down.”
“Got it.”
She left the bedroom as if nothing was wrong.
Levitch slipped out of the bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom.
Like it was routine now, she shut the door quietly, locked it without a sound, and turned on the faucet full blast to mask any noise.
Whoosh…
The roar of water filled the room, drowning out everything else.
“…Haa, this is driving me insane.”
Her face still burned, so she splashed cold water to cool it down.
She hadn't fully crossed the line, but she'd toed it hard.
Not something a girl with a boyfriend should ever do.
Climbing all over a colleague, sniffing his scent, leaving her marks everywhere.
Like some animal…
No—even animals wouldn't go that far.
This was basically cheating on an outsider.
She couldn't stand the heat in her cheeks.
And down there feels kinda damp…
After calming her racing heart for a while, she noticed a faint discomfort.
Something wet between her legs…
No way…?
Sure enough, she slipped off her dolphin pants and checked her panties.
“…!!!”
They were soaked—just a little, but unmistakable.
Not sweat—she hadn't broken one. Water? No chance.
That left only one possibility.
I leaked… just from being held and sleeping like that…?
Was she really this slutty? This was practically whore-level.
She'd masturbated so many times here it was pointless to count, so maybe debating slut or not was moot anyway…
But realizing her panties were drenched in her own juices made her heart pound wildly.
What if he'd noticed?
Most guys might brush it off, but what if—in that slim chance—he saw her differently?
She'd glimpsed Ivan at work sometimes.
Those brutish hands crushing enemies' skulls, fists pulping guts into mush.
She never said it, but his raw violence sometimes startled her.
What if those hands turned lewd, reaching to ravage or train her slutty body? Could she even dodge?
Normally, she'd say yes without hesitation. But right now, alone, she couldn't commit.
…Gotta get downstairs quick.
If she dawdled and he came looking, that'd be trouble.
She slipped off her panties, hid them in her pocket, and left the bathroom in just her dolphin pants.