Lancet froze, his breath catching sharp in his throat as Astensia’s lips crashed against his.

The kiss wasn’t tentative or gentle. Not like the one she had given him before they headed to Hebthej.

No, this one was raw, desperate, like she’d been holding it back for days and it finally broke free. Her mouth moved with a hunger that sent heat surging through his veins, her tongue slipping past his parted lips to taste him.

Lancet could taste her too. He could taste the faint salt of her earlier tears, the tang of specks of steel from her armor, and the fruity taste of ancient lipstick.

His hand, still gripping hers, tightened instinctively, fingers digging into her callused palm while the other hovered uncertainly at her waist. He didn’t know if it was okay to hold her.

’Holy shit,’ he reeled in his mind. ’She’s kissing me again. And it’s stronger this time.’

The situation was like a pot of guilt and arousal mixed and splashed against his face. He’d created her, shaped every curve of her character, but he had never created her to do this.

So this was real.

’But why isn’t she stopping?’ he wondered fearfully. ’She keeps going deeper. Kissing harder.’

And it was true. Astensia’s body pressed more against his hospital gown. Lancet felt her full breasts compressing against his bandaged chest. If it wasn’t for the metal of her breastplate, he would have felt the softness of those bosoms.

But all he felt was pain.

"Ouch."

Astensia suddenly broke the kiss, gasping against his mouth. "Are you okay?" she asked, realizing herself. "Your wound."

Lancet looked down at his chest, checking for leakage, then smiled up at her. "I’m fine. It’s fine."

Astensia gazed at him, redness burning on her cheeks. "What of this?" she asked. "Is this okay?"

Lancet tried to stop his eyes from widening and his heart from pounding. ’Is she really trying to?’

He gulped, gazing into her eyes, unsure of what to do or even say.

Astensia’s expression immediately darkened with concern. "It’s okay if you don’t want to—"

"No!" Lancet stopped her right there. "I want to," he said. "I really want to."

Astensia’s face lit up again, her cheeks getting even redder and her eyes as blue as the skies this time.

For Lancet, of course he wanted to. He didn’t know when it happened but she had completely taken over him. Was it her scent? Damn, what an arresting scene it was.

The sweat, the leather and steel from her gear, the faint floral trace of whatever soap she used to bath. Does she even bathe or has she always smelled like this?

Lancet almost couldn’t move. He was hornier and more entranced than he had ever been. His lungs were filled with her aura and her scent, so intoxicating, making his member twitch hard beneath the hospital gown.

He groaned low, the sound rumbling from his chest as his hesitation shattered. "Astensia," he murmured back, finally gathering the courage to place his hand on her hip.

Surprisingly, more courage came still, as he pulled her closer until her thigh nudged between his legs. Lancet couldn’t believe he did that. Was it the emotions taking control over him?

The friction sent a jolt straight to his groin, his erection straining against the thin cotton pants, aching for pressure.

’Fuck, she’s so warm. So perfect. Like she was made for me.’ Guilt slapped him again—what kind of pervert gets hard for his own summon?—but it drowned under the flood of want.

She was unraveling for him. And he couldn’t hide his feelings anymore behind the shield of the self-righteous Architect.

She wanted him. He wanted her.

Besides, from the looks of it, Astensia wasn’t waiting for more words.

She kissed him again, and this time he kissed her back. Their lips crashed and swam against each other.

The kiss turned heated, tongues brushing tentatively then intertwining with growing need. Astensia’s hand roamed his back, mapping the masculine lines of his shoulders through the hospital gown.

Lancet’s hands explored her in return. He slid down the strong curve of her back to the swell of her hips, then boldly cupping her full, heavy breasts through her armor.

The cold steel must have brushed her nipples because Astensia moaned softly into his mouth, the sound sweet and throaty.

He pulled back just enough to look at her. Blonde hair cascaded around her flushed face like molten gold. She looked up at him too, breathing more than she would have if she had fought an army of beasts.

"I’m... worried," she whispered, "that this would change things between us."

Lancet breathed hard too, then whispered back. "Are you saying if we do this, you would disobey your oath?"

Astensia paused. She stood straight, gazing into his eyes. Her beautiful face was framed with that blonde bright hair, and she even looked more dazzling in that flustered state.

"No," she muttered. "Nothing will stop me from fulfilling my oath."

Suddenly, Astensia shoved him back onto the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight as she climbed over him, straddling his hips.

Lancet couldn’t even prepare for anything, she was focused completely on him. She sat on top of him, and Lancet felt her, even through the fabric of her underwear.

He was the one pink-cheeked now.

Astensia blushed, smiling down at him. "You are already so hard ," she breathed, her voice laced with triumph and need.

Lancet smiled sheepishly. "You’re not making it easy for me."

Astensia smiled wider. She reached out, framing his face as she kissed him again, deeper, tongues tangling wet and slick. Saliva slicked their lips, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room, her moans vibrating into his mouth.

Lancet’s hands roamed now, greedy, sliding under her leather armor skirt to grip the firm swell of her ass. The material was supple under his fingers, worn smooth from battles, but it trapped her heat, making her squirm as he squeezed.

Lancet managed to sit up, nipping her neck as he squeezed, tasting salt and skin. She arched, a sharp gasp tearing from her, her nipples peaking hard against the metal of her breastplates.

Astensia pulled back from the kiss, still breathing in gasps. Her blue eyes, darkened with desire, locked onto his.

"I want to take it off," she whispered. "The armor."

Lancet felt his heart pound with excitement. ’Yes, do it!’ he wanted to say, but he only managed a nervous, "Mm-okay."

With a lovely smile, Astensia got down from the bed. Lancet sat straight as if ready to watch a show.

And a show it was.

Slowly, Astensia’s fingers moved to the clasps and buckles of her golden armor, the legendary Plate of Divine Will.

First went the gauntlets. She unfastened them one by one, letting the polished metal slide off her hands and drop to the floor with heavy clinks. Then the vambraces on her forearms followed, revealing the smooth, toned muscles of her arms, lightly scared from battles yet still feminine in its glow.

Next, she reached for the breastplate. Lancet watched her lift the ornate golden plate away from her chest, exposing the thin linen undershirt beneath, so thin that her nipples pointed through.

The heavy piece joined the growing pile on the floor.

Astensia’s breathing grew deeper as she worked on the pauldrons and the articulated tassets that protected her hips and upper thighs. Each piece came away with careful, almost ritualistic movements, the golden metal gleaming as it was set aside. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Finally, she unbuckled the leather skirt and greaves, sliding them down her long, powerful legs. The last of the Plate of Divine Will fell away and Astensia stood before him completely bare, presenting herself without shame, only the faint flush of vulnerability coloring her cheeks and chest.

Lancet’s chest rose and fell as he stared at her.

Her body was that of a knight and still as ravishing as a woman’s. Tall and athletic, with long, shapely legs corded with subtle muscle from years of riding and fighting.

Her waist was slim and defined, flaring into wide, womanly hips that spoke of both power and fertility. Her stomach was flat, with the faintest lines of abdominal muscle visible when she breathed.

And her breasts... they were full and heavy, beautifully shaped with a natural, proud uplift. The pale pink nipples, already tightened into stiff peaks, sat high on the soft, generous curves.

A few faint, silvery battle scars traced across her ribs and one along the side of her left breast, only adding to her allure rather than detracting from it.

Her skin was fair but sun-kissed in places, glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back and over one shoulder, framing the elegant column of her neck and the strong, graceful lines of her shoulders and collarbones.

Lancet could only stare, utterly transfixed. His mouth had gone dry, and his erection throbbed painfully beneath the thin hospital gown as he drank in every detail.

"Gosh," he managed to mutter, "you are beautiful, Astensia."