Faticia tucked her chin, her neck as graceful as a swan's.
Westheid had intended to explain, but he changed his mind the moment his eyes met Faticia's.
She was clearly a voluptuous, mature beauty, yet her demeanor was more pliant than that of a young girl. It was hard to believe a High-tier Tuner could have such a personality.
'So she's going for that kind of contrast, is she? Well, I'll have to tease her a bit. Since she practically invited it, it would be rude not to indulge.'
A faint smile played on Westheid's lips. He gripped Faticia's delicate shoulders and pinned her against the corridor wall.
The Purple-haired Elf's pointed ears shot up, her lovely eyes widening. A rich, intoxicating scent wafted from the man, assaulting her senses and nearly overwhelming her reason. Crossing her arms over her chest did nothing to protect her; it only served to accentuate her flawless, exquisite figure, highlighting her dramatic curves and sending soft ripples across her bosom.
