This Body Discovers a Big Spender
The man's hand pushed deeper beneath the cloth. His fingers parted the hot, flushed flesh of her inner thigh, just starting to slide upward—
Seira flicked his hand away with a light tap. A smile still played on her lips as she threw her glass at it.
"I don't take that outside."
The glass bounced off his knuckles and shattered on the floor, kicking up a small commotion, but the man couldn't have cared less about his throbbing hand or the shards of glass.
"Why not? I can pay whatever you want."
"What we do in here is plenty."
Seira's mouth curved, a look that said, Get a load of this guy.
"Call me if you order another round. I might even come back."
Her ass, barely covered by a scrap of cloth over the cleft, swayed right in front of his eyes. Scent, skin, afterimage—she left him with all of it.
"Fuck."
He spat the curse low, staring at the broken glass. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were on fire.
Seira had sold him desire instead of her body. It cost more, and it was more addictive. Bitch that she was, the body he'd touched even once left him thirsty.
"Seira! I sat over here!"
"Miss! Just once, please—this table too!"
"I gave you the most tips yesterday! Don't you remember?"
The tavern had already become a free-for-all, every man waiting on Seira's choice. Wherever she walked, customers shot up from their seats and waved. At a table that never seemed to empty, three men were fighting over who got to give up their chair, and one of them even poured drinks for the next table over, offering advice like a veteran.
"That girl isn't something you buy with money. It's a fucking lottery. You gotta pray to the gods if you want to sit next to her even once more."
"Wow. That's actually impressive..."
One of the other girls grumbled.
"We're all working our asses off too, but that customer just now said he only wanted to sit next to her."
"One of them asked me if I wanted to touch his dick."
Another woman snorted.
"He said if I saved him the money he'd spend on Seira, he'd give me a discount. Me? Hilarious."
"Did you do it?"
"...Yeah. I did. But, ha! Four silver."
A silence fell over them.
"...You're serious?"
"...Yeah. Four silver for one grope of my chest. And when it was over, that bastard was still staring at Seira."
At that, a few of the girls' faces hardened. In this place, even imitating Seira wasn't enough to replace her. They scrambled to pick up whatever crumbs fell from her table, but they all knew they were selling their pride to do it.
Seira glanced over the scene without much interest and passed the bar.
Might as well call it here for tonight.
The moment she rapped the table, her eyes met the proprietor's. The woman pursed her lips, clearly wanting to keep her a little longer, but she respected Seira's wishes all the same.
"Aaah, what a shame."
A superstar for three days only. Letting go of a talent with the guts to pull stunts like that on only her second day, using her own body as a weapon, was a genuine loss. Even so, there was nothing to gain by crossing her, so the proprietor settled for delivering the day's payout and a light farewell.
"Tomorrow's the last day, so I'm counting on you extra~"
Seira waved her off halfheartedly and vanished through the dressing room and the back door.
The last night.
The moment Harbor's Goblet opened, the tables filled in a rush, and the air was already thick with liquor, the smell of men, and the name Seira passing from mouth to mouth.
"Oh my. He's an unusually fine one."
The proprietor blinked. What she was looking at was the young man coming in from the very back, flanked by mercenary escorts.
Golden hair, fine-grained skin. His white shirt hadn't a speck of dust on it, and the black seal at his waist looked as if it had been stamped there. One glance told you he was a young noble who'd only ever hunted in well-kept game parks.
His pretty face would have been a treat for the eyes even among this crowd, but more to the point, he looked every inch a high-paying customer waiting to be taken for everything he had.
"...Is this really the place?"
"I'm telling you it is, young master. Hottest spot around here these days. Didn't you want to see how people in these parts actually live?"
"But this is a tavern..."
"Oh, come on! Just trust me. Ugh... it's to die for."
"There's this girl called Seira—just looking at her and her tits practically—"
The young man looked away from the local mercenaries' unfiltered gestures and glanced around. His shoulders had slumped, as if the racket of the place had already cowed him.
"This is even worse than yesterday."
"When are the girls coming out?!"
It had been a month since he'd graduated from the noble academy. He'd put off his scheduled engagement and his assigned post for a while, claiming he was going to see the world.
The mercenaries had already signed contracts by region in advance, so in other territories they would typically show him landmarks like ruins, taking him to scholarly places befitting his station. These local hires had started out the same way—until they'd shoved him toward this tavern, insisting that if he really wanted to see the world, he had to come here at least once.
A fragrance of spices stabbed at his nose, and the atmosphere was overheated from the moment he stepped inside. By his standards the place was as crowded as a pigsty, and rather too rowdy. Nowhere you looked was it to a noble's taste.
"Young master, I'm telling you this place is the real deal."
"Mmm..."
He turned his head carefully. There was barely a single table left in the corner. The mercenaries had claimed the seats first, but he sat awkwardly against the backrest, holding his glass, quietly catching his breath.
He was not the sort of noble who looked down on commoner things. As if to prove that noble character, even here in a place of a completely different class, he was trying to find something good about it.
And then the tavern heaved with a roar of men, and in the place they all surged toward, there was his answer.
A beautiful goddess draped in deep-blue cloth, as if the night sky itself had been woven over her naked body. Beneath red light that spilled down her skin, she moved slowly between the tables, her head tipped back just slightly.
Every roll of her hips set her full breasts swaying. The curve of her thighs spilled out from beneath the cloth like water. And those eyes—expressionless, which only made them filthier.
He thought his breath had stopped.
A woman... like that.
If you took everything beautiful and refined in the world, gathered it all together, and soaked it dripping wet in lust—you would get her. His lips had gone dry; he tried to swallow and nearly dropped his glass.
"That's Seira."
One of the mercenaries beside him snickered.
"She's killer, seriously. I still remember. When she danced yesterday—"
They had clearly brought him along to make up the money they were short, just so they could see her up close.
She was leaning against a table beyond, pouring drinks. The heart of a young man who'd only just left boyhood behind would not stop pounding. In that noisy room, no other sound even registered.
I just... I just want to see her up close. Just once.
He had no idea what to say. He didn't have the courage to call her crudely or wave her over the way the others did. All he could do was watch what people around him were doing and hurriedly ask the mercenaries for advice.
"Aaah, looks like the young master's got it bad."
The fact that they talked to their employer without any filter didn't matter. He just fumbled in his inner pocket and, following their advice, pulled out gleaming coins.
A clear metallic ring sounded against the wooden tabletop.
One. Two. Three.
Whether Seira, far across the crowded room, could hear that sound was doubtful—but it was more than enough for the proprietor, who had been watching him. She snapped her fingers and, through a guard she wouldn't normally even acknowledge, relayed the signal for Seira to look that way. Their eyes met.
"...Oh?"
The corner of her mouth lifted, slow and pleased.
The ivory-skinned woman rose from her seat and came toward him, unhurried. It was a long moment before he realized he'd been holding his breath.
The mercenaries snickered beside him, but only one thing remained in the young master's mind.
She's coming closer. She's looking at me. She's—smiling at me.
Seira came up to the table and wordlessly scooped the gold coins into her hand. She slotted all three between her index and middle fingers, shoved the mercenary aside, and sat down next to the young master.
She crossed her legs with a languid, sensual twist and, from beneath the cloth, laid her thigh against his knee.
The young master had no immunity. His face flushed scarlet. His ears went bright red, and sweat beaded on his skin.
"Uh... uh, that's... I, um..."
Seira slowly reached out and lifted his glass.
"Mind if I drink this?"
"...Yes! I mean—yes. Yes! Of course!"
When she laughed softly, his shoulders jerked against the reclined backrest. He summoned a great deal of courage, held his breath, and tried to meet her eyes—but the instant their gazes locked, he dropped his own to the floor.
Seira stroked his leg with one hand as she spoke to the mercenary beside them.
"First time? He's at least twenty, right?"
"Probably."
"Oops."
"Well, he does still reek of green. Haha."
She laughed playfully with the other man even as she shifted and sat herself down on the young master's thigh. Even through clothes, the feel of skin against skin, the heat of her coming through that thin cloth—his heart felt like it would burst out of his chest.
"Listen, young master. I leave when the time's up, so put everything you've got on the table from the start. That's how you get to look at me longer."
"Huh? Y-yes...!"
When he gave a small nod behind her back, Seira laughed, big and unrestrained.
"What, how much are you carrying that you're so sure?"
Three gold coins alone was more than anyone here except maybe one or two people could even produce, so Seira had already planned to stay a good while—and yet this young master seemed to think even that was nowhere near enough for her.
Innocent as he was, he did his gentlemanly duty, sweeping his arm wide so as not to touch the lady sitting on his lap too freely, and held out his entire coin purse to her with trembling hands.
"Hmm. Let's see how badly you want me."
Seira took it lightly and opened it. All gold. About as much as the travel purse he'd carried back when he was still Leon.
She'd figured from the look of him that he came from money, but this was the first time she'd seen a lunatic dump the whole thing on a single woman in some out-of-the-way tavern that wasn't even a brothel.
"Wow."
But his strangeness didn't even spark her curiosity about who he was. To her, he was just a treasure chest that had walked in on its own two feet. Opened it up and it was stuffed with gold? Super lucky.
Seira turned toward him, slow, and whispered.
"Young master. You came to have me all to yourself tonight, didn't you?"
The men around them—who'd already wrung themselves dry more than once watching Seira move—glanced over, and just imagining how she'd cook this young noble had them half aroused and half sick with envy, running their mouths.
"Holy shit. Young master!"
The mercenaries beside them, who moved for money, were no different. She waved them off with a flick of her hand—don't even think about it—and grinned. One target was plenty for tonight.
The table was laid with everything this place could possibly serve, and she herself could be counted as part of the spread. The main dish, so to speak.
"Nervous?"
Seira brought her lips close to his ear, which had gone dull with the pounding of his own pulse. The young master only nodded, wordless.
She laughed softly, lifted his glass again, and wet her own mouth. Then she brought the glass to his lips as well and tipped it for him.
"I go around telling people this body's expensive—but you're the first one who's actually paid what I'm worth."
Seira set the empty glass down, caught his hand—which had been sitting there awkwardly, with nowhere to go—and wrapped it around her waist. When his eyes went wide, she even pressed down lightly on the hand resting at her waist, as if it were nothing.
......!!
The slender curve caught between her huge tits and her hips was now held, wrapped, in his hand—which meant the space between their bodies had closed that much more. Seira's chest was pressing softly into his.