Satomi's bedroom was simpler than he'd expected. Minimal furniture: a low bed with dark gray sheets, a single bookshelf stacked with worn paperbacks and what looked like decades-old journals, and a desk by the window with a closed laptop.
The room smelled like wine, old books, and a light, flowery scent he couldn't quite figure out.
She closed the door behind them and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge and gesturing for him to join her. He did.
"Most succubi just take," she said, her tone shifting into something that sounded like a lecture. "They latch onto a target, drain what they need, and move on. It's efficient, but it's shallow. No real bond, no exchange. Just theft dressed up as seduction."
"And you don't do that."
"I prefer exchange." She reached up and loosened the tie on her robe, letting it fall open slightly without removing it entirely.
