The Extra's Rise-Chapter 274: Second Mission Interlude (3)
"Sorry about my father," Rachel sighed as we sat down for dinner together.
It was just the two of us in one of the many, many dining halls in the Creighton estate. Because, of course, they had so many that using a different one every night for a month would still leave some untouched.
"Don’t worry about it," I said, offering her a small smile as I picked up my utensils. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah," she murmured, placing a hand over her chest, fingers curling slightly against the fabric. "After the Ball at Mythos Academy, I got really scared. And that just… exacerbated things. My feelings for you became—um—dangerous, both for me and you."
Her voice trailed off, her face turning a light shade of red as she scratched her cheek, but the smile on her lips was soft. Almost bashful.
I watched her for a moment before responding.
"Rachel, you don’t have to worry," I said, setting my utensils down. "I know you’re not like that."
Rachel shifted slightly.
Then—very quietly, just above a whisper—she muttered, "Well… not entirely…"
My eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
She refused to meet my gaze. Her cheeks turned an even deeper red, her fingers drumming against the table. Then, after a moment of clear internal struggle, she looked up and blurted out—
"W-Will you be imprisoned by me for the fall break?"
I blinked.
And again.
Tilted my head.
Then, very deliberately, I took a bite of my food.
"I’m sorry," I said with a pleasant smile. "I seem to have misheard you."
Rachel, instead of showing the appropriate level of shame, grabbed my arm.
"I’m serious," she said, her grip firm, her eyes completely unrepentant. "It was just… it was so much fun…"
Internally, I groaned.
’How the hell did Rachel turn into Cecilia all of a sudden?’
"No," I said flatly, shaking my head.
Rachel pouted.
But, thankfully, she let go of my arm and returned to eating—though I could feel her sulking.
I sighed.
Something told me this wasn’t the last time I was going to have this conversation.
’Wow, your harem is becoming more dangerous,’ Luna mused in my mind, her voice dripping with amusement. ’At this rate, they’ll have you in an actual cage soon.’
’God, shut up.’
I shuddered at the thought. The very unfortunate fan art came to mind—the one where Lucifer had been drawn locked in a golden cage, imprisoned by Cecilia, his expression a perfect mix of irritation and resignation. The readers of Saga of the Divine Swordsman had turned that into a running joke.
And now, here I was, living it.
’She seems less obsessed now, though,’ Luna continued, ever the analyst. ’I think you need to show her just how bad it is to be cuffed.’
I blinked.
’What?’
’Well,’ Luna said, as if explaining something completely obvious, ’she thinks it’s nice because she’s never thought about how you felt. So you should cuff her and let her experience it.’
I frowned. ’That actually makes sense. But are you tricking me?’
’Why would I?’ she said, completely deadpan. ’After all, have I ever guided you wrong?’
I paused.
Because, annoyingly, she hadn’t.
For all her sarcasm and endless commentary, Luna had never once led me astray.
"Fine."
I made up my mind.
Rachel and I finished our meal, and as she reached for her wine glass, twirling her hair absentmindedly, I spoke.
"Rachel, come to my bedroom."
Rachel froze.
Then, slowly, she turned to look at me.
"A-Already?" she stammered, her voice suddenly an octave higher. Her fingers tightened around her glass, her golden hair slipping through them. "I—I mean, I wasn’t ready—but—but I will do my best—!"
I sighed. "No, not for that."
Rachel’s shoulders slumped. She pouted, the energy of a woman deeply let down.
"Just follow me."
She sighed dramatically but got up to follow.
We stepped into the bedroom that had been generously provided for me—by which I meant the room Rachel had personally assigned, complete with far too much unnecessary luxury.
Rachel turned to me, tilting her head slightly.
"So," she said, voice smooth, "what do you want me to do?"
There was a lilt to her tone—bright, playful, yet carrying just enough weight to send a shiver down my spine. Despite the soft flush on her cheeks, her confidence never wavered.
I looked away, rubbing the back of my neck.
I’d gotten used to her flirtations, but damn, when she wanted to, she could shift her voice—energetic one moment, then soft, piercing, dangerously sensual the next.
I refused to acknowledge the slight warmth creeping up my own face.
Instead, I extended my hand.
"Hands," I said simply.
Rachel blinked, but with the trust of someone who had absolutely no reason to trust me, she placed both of her hands on top of mine without hesitation.
Her sapphire eyes shone, utterly unguarded.
Golden retriever, I thought absently.
And then I snapped the cuffs on her wrists.
Rachel froze.
"Huh?"
Before she could react further, I gently—but firmly—pushed her onto the bed.
Her eyes widened.
Then—
"Ohhh~" she hummed, her expression shifting dangerously fast. "Do you like it like this?"
I immediately regretted my life choices.
"I heard some guys—"
"No," I cut her off before she could continue that sentence, my brow twitching violently. "Absolutely not."
Rachel pouted.
I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose before regaining my composure.
"You kept cuffing me without realizing how annoying it was," I said, folding my arms. "Now, it’s your turn. You get to experience exactly what it felt like for me."
Rachel blinked.
Then, to my complete surprise, she nodded.
"Oh," she said thoughtfully. "That makes sense."
…
I narrowed my eyes.
That had been way too easy.
"Did you think I was going to resist?" Rachel asked, smiling up at me.
"Yes," I admitted without hesitation.
She giggled. "I won’t when it comes to you, dummy." Her voice was light, but there was weight behind it. "Even if it’s something I probably won’t like, I’ll still try it out because… it’s you, Arthur."
Her sapphire eyes softened, unwavering, utterly sincere.
"I like everything that comes from you. And the three other girls? They think the same."
I exhaled, ignoring the dangerous implications of that statement as I moved closer.
My fingers wrapped around her cuffed wrists, pushing them up above her head.
"Is it not annoying to have no control?" I asked.
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Rachel hummed, tilting her head slightly. "Mmm…"
I leaned in, my face close to hers. "I hate not being able to move. I hate being imprisoned."
She blinked up at me, completely unbothered.
I was supposed to be making a point here.
But instead, I found myself distracted.
Because damn it, she really was too beautiful.
Rachel’s lips parted slightly, her gaze unwavering. Then, slowly, she smiled.
"I don’t understand," she murmured. "I like this."
I frowned. "What?"
"Being yours," she said simply. "Being under your control."
I barely had time to process that before she squirmed beneath me, the movement—way too intentional—sending a flush of heat up my neck.
And then—
With a slow, deliberate motion, she lifted her arms, bringing the chain of the cuffs behind my neck.
And pulled me in closer.
"Because this means I’m yours, right?" she whispered, her breath warm against my face.
My pulse spiked.
"That…" I swallowed. "That wasn’t my intention."
Rachel’s smile only widened. "If you want to imprison me and take care of me… then do it." Her voice dipped slightly, turning lower, softer. "I give you consent, okay?"
She leaned in.
Her lips nearly brushed mine.
I stopped her.
My finger pressed against her lips, my breath uneven.
And then—
Rachel’s eyes glinted.
And she—
She sucked on my damn finger.
A sharp jolt ran down my spine, sending an actual shiver through me.
I bolted out of the bed.
My heart was racing. My brain had short-circuited.
Rachel licked her lips, tilting her head in mock innocence. "What’s wrong?"
I stared at her, pulse still hammering.
’Luna,’ I called out mentally, desperate for guidance.
Silence.
Then—
’You bastard,’ Luna hissed. ’What the hell did you do to the Saintess?’
