The Incubus System Chapter 1088. Bathing The Angel IV

The Incubus System Chapter 1088. Bathing The Angel IV

Puriel’s PoV

The sound sent a shiver through her. It was low, barely audible over the spray of water, but there was a warmth to it that made her heart skip a beat. Her wings twitched again, and she shifted uncomfortably, trying to tamp down the growing restlessness inside her.

Finally, Ethan turned, catching her staring. His smirk was immediate, playful, and teasing, the kind of look that made Puriel’s stomach twist into knots. She tried to glance away, but it was too late. He’d caught her, and there was no escaping his relentless charm.

“I know you’re enjoying the view,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “Just admit it. I won’t blame you for that.”

Her cheeks burned, and she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the floor tiles. She didn’t trust herself to speak, not when her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Saying anything would only make things worse. Maybe if she stayed quiet, he’d let it go.

But, of course, Ethan was not the kind of man to let anything go.

When she didn’t respond, he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Nothing to say?” he teased, stepping closer. The wet slap of his bare feet against the tile sent another wave of heat through her. She hoped—prayed—he would stop, that he’d go back to his shower and leave her alone. But no. He was too close now, leaning over her, his shadow enveloping her like a cloak.

Her breath hitched as his proximity made her painfully aware of the heat radiating off his skin. The scent of soap and something inherently him filled her senses, and her wings twitched involuntarily. She clenched her fists in her lap, willing her composure to hold.

A smirk tugged at his lips, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now you’re quiet again,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “I’m putting on a good show in front of you, ya know? The least you could do is entertain me.”

Her chest tightened, and she forced herself to meet his gaze. “So this is just your game?” she asked, her voice sharper than she intended. It was a weak attempt to shift the dynamic, to make him feel as flustered as she did, but the smirk on his face only widened.

“Game?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly. “No, not really. But I’ve gotta say, I’m a little disappointed with your reaction.”

Her eyes narrowed, confusion momentarily overtaking her embarrassment. “Disappointed?” she echoed.

“At least…” he began, trailing off as he reached for her hand. She froze, her breath catching as his fingers wrapped around hers. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through her, and before she could pull away, he guided her hand forward, placing it against his chest.

Puriel’s mind went blank. Her fingers rested against his damp skin, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. She should pull back, should tell him to stop, but her body betrayed her, remaining still as if caught in a spell. Her hand traced the hard lines of his chest, guided by his, and her wings trembled behind her.

“See?” Ethan murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Not so bad, is it?”

“I…” she stammered, words failing her completely. Her fingers brushed over the curve of his shoulder, down his arm, her touch lingering far longer than she intended. ‘No,’ she thought desperately. ‘This is shameful. I’m an angel! I shouldn’t—'

But even as her thoughts screamed for her to stop, her body refused to move. The warmth of his skin, the way he looked at her, so confident and sure—it was all too much.

“This is…” she began, her voice weak and faltering. Her eyes darted away, her blush deepening. “This is… wrong.”

Ethan leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Wrong?” he asked softly. “Or just something you’ve never allowed yourself to feel before?”

His words struck a chord deep within her, and she swallowed hard, unable to deny the truth in them. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts a jumbled mess. He was right—this was new, unfamiliar, and terrifying. But it was also exhilarating in a way she couldn’t explain.

“I…” she tried again, but her voice faltered. She couldn’t bring herself to pull away, even though every part of her screamed that she should. Her hand remained against him, her fingers brushing against his skin as if drawn there by some invisible force.

Ethan’s smirk softened into something more genuine, his dark eyes searching hers. “It’s okay to feel something, Puriel,” he said gently. “You don’t have to fight it.”

For a moment, she let herself believe him. Let herself imagine what it would be like to give in, to stop fighting, to simply be. But then reality came crashing back, and she pulled her hand away, clutching it to her chest as if burned.

“This… this is too much,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her wings curled around her slightly, a feeble attempt to shield herself from the intensity of the moment.

Ethan stepped back, giving her space but never breaking eye contact. “Too much?” he repeated, his tone soft but tinged with curiosity. “Or exactly what you’ve been needing?”

Puriel shook her head, unable to answer. Her heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions she couldn’t begin to untangle. All she knew was that being near him felt like standing too close to a flame—dangerous, but impossible to resist.

“I…” she began, but the words caught in her throat. She glanced at him one last time before turning away, her wings folding tightly against her back. “I need some air,” she said hurriedly, her voice barely steady.

Ethan didn’t stop her as she left the bathroom, but she could feel his gaze lingering on her, heavy and unreadable. As she stepped into the cooler air of the hallway to the bedroom, she pressed a hand to her chest, willing her racing heart to calm.

Whatever this was, whatever he was doing to her—it was too much. But deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly why she couldn’t stay away.