10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 15 - Responsibility for...

Sunlight streamed through the half-parted curtains, spilling onto her bare skin like warm water poured over wounds.

It should’ve been comforting.

It wasn’t.

The rays touched her shoulder first—she flinched before even opening her eyes.

Even that simple warmth felt like fire against the fading purple of a bruise she didn’t remember getting.

Her body protested as she stirred, every inch of her aching with a tenderness that was raw, sore, and far too intense to ignore. Like she’d been hit by a truck. Or fucked by one.

Her neck throbbed—there, the skin felt swollen and hypersensitive.

A hickey pulsed under the sunlight, stinging as if it were a burn rather than a mark of passion. When she swallowed, even that small motion pulled at the tender flesh, making her wince.

"Ugh..." Thalia inhaled sharply. Her ribs expanded slowly, painfully, each breath reminding her that something had happened to her body—something thorough.

The bedsheets shifted against her skin like silk dragging over sandpaper—gentle fabric, but every brush reminded her she wasn’t just sore.

She was used.

Her inner thighs throbbed with a deep, bone-aching soreness that radiated up into her hips. Her pelvis felt like it had been cracked open and put back together wrong. Even her lower back ached—a dull, persistent throb that spoke of hours spent arched and bent and pressed into positions her body wasn’t used to.

Even her lips were dry and chapped, cracked at the corners, as if the night had stolen all moisture, all strength, leaving her empty and wrung out like a dishrag.

Her eyelids felt heavy—swollen, maybe from crying or exhaustion—but she forced them open anyway. Emerald green irises emerged slowly, blinking against the bright gold of morning light that poured through the balcony doors.

Her lashes fluttered like broken wings trying to fly.

The scent in the room was faint but unmistakable—lavender from the sheets, linen still crisp despite being rumpled, and something else beneath it all. Musk. Salt. The lingering smell of sex that clung to the air like a ghost refusing to leave.

Click-click-click.

There was the sound of someone typing on a keyboard. Steady. Methodical. Unbothered. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Her legs trembled beneath the sheets when she tried to shift them. Just the act of bending her knee sent a sharp spike of pain through her inner thighs, making her gasp softly.

She dared not move too fast, afraid of discovering what else might hurt.

But she did anyway.

Slowly, painfully, she lifted her upper body—propping herself up on one elbow while her other hand instinctively reached down to steady her spinning head.

That’s when she noticed someone nearby.

"Y-you..." Thalia’s voice came out hoarse, rough like sandpaper dragged across stone.

Her head pounded with each syllable. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed glass—dry, scratchy, raw from screaming or moaning or maybe both. The soft sheets brushing against her bare skin only made her more aware of everything wrong.

The dried, sticky feeling around her arms where sweat had dried and crusted.

The soreness between her legs that wasn’t just soreness—it was wrongness, like something foreign had invaded and reshaped her from the inside out.

The dull, throbbing ache across her hips where fingers had gripped too hard, leaving invisible bruises that burned under the surface.

She tried to sit up fully—regretted it instantly.

Every muscle screamed in protest. Her abs clenched. Her thighs quivered. And worst of all—

She was naked. Completely.

’!’

The realization hit her like cold water.

The silk sheets slid off her body as she moved, pooling around her waist and exposing everything. Her breasts—full and heavy—swayed slightly with the motion, nipples still darkened and swollen from being sucked too hard for too long. Red marks dotted the pale flesh, little love bites that formed constellations across her chest.

Her arms instantly scrambled to cover herself, one crossing over her breasts while the other grabbed at the sheets and yanked them up to her chin.

Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room—luxurious in a way that screamed wealth. High ceilings. Golden accents. Wide balcony overlooking mountains and ocean. Silk curtains billowing gently in a breeze that smelled like salt water and pine.

Then her gaze landed on him.

Cruxius sat across the room in a plush armchair, eyes fixed on his laptop screen, fingers dancing across the keyboard like nothing ever happened. Like he hadn’t just—

Like she wasn’t even there.

He was fully dressed. Casual button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Dark slacks. Hair slightly mussed but otherwise perfectly composed.

Meanwhile, she was naked, sore, covered in his marks, and couldn’t even remember how she got here.

But even before she could speak—before she could demand answers or scream or cry—he interrupted.

"Were you the one who spiked my drink?" Cruxius asked casually, not even looking at her. His tone was conversational, like he was asking about the weather.

Uno Reverse.

"What?" Thalia blinked, confusion cutting through her rising panic.

"I woke up with a headache," Cruxius continued calmly, still typing away. "So I thought maybe someone had spiked the drink last night. Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to drug me at a party."

"...." Thalia didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Her mind was spinning too fast, trying to piece together fragments of memory that refused to form.

The party. Music. Lights. A drink in her hand. His smile. His hand on her waist. Then... nothing. A black hole where her memories should be.

"Where are we?" she finally asked, her voice shaky but recovering some strength as she looked around again. Through the balcony, she could see the sea stretching endlessly, mountains rising in the distance like sleeping giants.

"In my mansion, of course." He replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Like bringing a drugged woman to his private estate was perfectly normal behavior.

She narrowed her gaze, emerald eyes sharpening into something dangerous. "So... in a drugged state... you drove all the way to your mansion and even brought me into this room?"

The implication hung heavy in the air between them.

Cruxius chuckled—a low, dark sound that rumbled in his chest. He finally lifted his gaze from the laptop, looking at her with a knowing expression, like he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and didn’t care. "You are smart, aren’t you?"

"You disgust me!" she snapped, rage flooding her tone as the pieces clicked together. He took advantage of her last night. Brought her here. Did... whatever he did to leave her body feeling like this.

"But Miss..." a calm voice chimed in from behind the sofa, making Thalia jump.

Darithi stepped into view—tall, elegant, dressed in her usual black suit that hugged her athletic frame. Her silver-lensed glasses caught the light as she tilted her head, expression perfectly neutral. "You said you felt good last night... and that he filled you with pleasure, not disgust."

She paused, letting the words sink in.

"In fact, you begged for more at least three times."

’Well done, Darithi,’ Cruxius gave her a thumbs-up without even turning, keeping his eyes fixed on the laptop, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Cough!" Thalia choked on air, her face flushing crimson from her chest all the way up to her hairline. "Y-you both!"

She clutched the sheets tighter to her body, pulling them up until they covered everything from her collarbones down. Her knuckles went white from the force of her grip.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath that hurt her ribs, and realized that talking with these people had no meaning now. She couldn’t even recall what had happened last night—just fragments. Sensations. The feeling of hands on her skin. Lips on her neck. Something thick pushing inside her while she—

No. She couldn’t think about it.

"No—give me my clothes. I’m leaving." Her voice was firmer now, determined despite the trembling in her limbs.

"You can’t," Cruxius said simply, leaning back in his chair. He stretched his arms above his head, muscles flexing beneath his shirt, and rubbed his eyes like he was tired. "I want to take responsibility."

In his past life, he’d sent her back without letting her know about anything that had happened. She’d left confused, sore, unaware that she’d even had sex with him until weeks later when she discovered she was pregnant.

This time would be different.

So even though it was 9:00 AM, he’d let her sleep here instead of sending her away like discarded trash.

"Responsibility for what!?" Thalia barked, eyes flashing with renewed anger.

"For making you pregnant, duh."