In a bold move, Ethan whispered in my ear, suggesting I use a clean spell on my backside. He didn’t even try to hide it—it was practically a declaration that he was going to put his fingers there.

‘Should I allow this… or not?’

I had no real excuse to stop him at this point. We’d already brushed off the idea of fingers as an “accident.” Still, this didn’t mean I intended to let him touch me there, but Ethan was clearly using that as his excuse now.

‘Something felt off since that cat maid play…’

Back then, he had …