My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines-Chapter 25 - Can you touch my dick?

'!'

"N-no!"

Seleyena's hands instinctively rose to her face, trying to cover her eyes as Cruxius let the last of his clothes fall to the side. He stood bare from the waist up, his skin pale under the stark hospital lighting.

She peeked at him through the gaps between her fingers—just in case he pounced—while clearly contemplating whether she should scream or call security.

And yet... her breath caught the moment she saw him with nothing but underwear on.

His muscles were well-defined, lean but sculpted.

Not bulky, but defined—the kind of strength born from real strain, not vanity.

His shoulders were broad, waist narrow, and veins lightly traced down his forearms, twitching with slow tension.

But that wasn't what struck her the most.

It was the marks.

Long, red scratches raked across his back. Some fresh and raised, others drying with faded blood along the edges.

Bite marks.

Even a bruise near his collarbone, clearly shaped by teeth.

Deep crescents across his chest and ribs—fingernail marks, dug in as if someone had clung to him in desperation... or rage.

One gash on his side looked like it had come from a stiletto heel.

Seleyena's brows furrowed.

He didn't seem ashamed.

If anything... he looked disappointed.

"Doctor," Cruxius said, his voice calm and low—not seductive, but thoughtful.

Despite his leg injuries, this was precisely why he hadn't gone to a doctor sooner.

He wanted the marks on his body to remain.

He intended to use them to manipulate Thalia. But now, he found a better opportunity—and a kind doctor willing to listen.

"Tell me. When a woman walks in, bruised and trembling, you assume the man is a perverted monster, don't you?"

'N-no... I never...,' she tried to protest in her mind.

She hadn't said it aloud, and yet she fell silent, realizing he was right.

She had judged him—judged him based on the bruises on Thalia's body.

"....." She didn't answer.

He took another step closer, sliding off his pants along with his boots.

It might've looked absurd, if not for his chiseled form and striking face—his confident demeanor only enhancing the effect.

"I get it. We all play our roles. The woman cries. The man gets arrested. Society nods. Justice is done."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing—not cruelly, but curiously.

"But what if," he continued, voice dipping into a hush, "the one bleeding is the man? The one clinging, scratching, biting, breaking—is her?"

Seleyena's gaze drifted over his injuries again. Her throat felt dry.

He had as many injuries as Thalia—maybe more.

His body looked like that of a victim.

But what if those marks were from a struggle? A desperate attempt by Thalia to protect herself as he forced himself on her?

"Her body's marks because of my lust, and mine because she tried to protect herself?" he added, as if reading her thoughts—smiling, his tone dancing between amusement and regret.

"No matter what proof I bring, as a man... I—we—are destined to be blamed, aren't we?"

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

She stared at her clenched hands on the table, confronting her own prejudice. Still frozen in her seat, she looked back at him.

"If I wanted to control her, do you think I'd have let her walk out of your cabin alone?" he asked gently. No threat in his voice—just certainty. His gaze narrowed, reading her body language. He could tell she was beginning to waver.

Naturally, the reason he bore more injuries than Thalia was simple: he was just too good at sex.

If a man couldn't turn an untouched pristine well into a fountain, couldn't make a woman's body and fingers react instinctively with each orgasm, then what kind of lovemaking was that?

He'd pleasured her until her body responded involuntarily.

All women did.

In his youth, he'd treated it like a competition. Unlike his present self, who understood that it was something to be cherished.

There's a fine line between a porn star and a lover.

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Women think emotionally, while men think physically when in love.

To truly connect while fulfilling one's desires, a man must cherish a woman—not just dominate her.

Instead of just sex, it should be love making—where through the body one conveys their emotions.

"I could've locked her away in my mansion. I didn't. I brought her here... knowing she'd run," he said. "Miss Seleyena, I just want to take responsibility for what I did."

He sighed—weighted, weary, as if burdened by the guilt of having ruined a pure young woman's life.

"...I..."

The silence stretched between them.

She was again surprised to see him know her name, but she refrained from asking as she found him disappointed in her.

Finally, Seleyena spoke, her voice soft and uncertain. "...Why push yourself for someone unknown? If you'd just left her... or used your influence... no one would've known."

"I'd know," he said.

"And that's more than enough."

"You are too kind, Sir Cruxius," Seleyena's eyes slowly moved down, noticing the bulge in his underwear.

It was clear, pressing against the fabric, shaped like a cucumber.

The tightness of the material left nothing to hide, showing the outline of his private part.

"Urgh—" Cruxius looked towards her line of sight as it lingered for a moment on his crotch area before averting with slight hesitation, which made him smirk inwardly, realizing that her earlier perspective of him had started to slowly dilute considering the way she relaxed herself to even notice things that she would have normally avoided.

'!'

"Wh-what happened?!" Seleyena suddenly snapped in his direction as she stood from her seat, suddenly hearing him groan as she followed the direction of his hand, which was now placed over his crotch area, as if in pain.

"Nothing, it's fine; I am a man after all; I should always be strong," Cruxius said with a defeated smile, considering that he had listened to the conversation between her and Thalia.

He at least knew that she was sympathetic beyond her professionalism boundaries.

Given that much of her characteristics matched his dictionary of women, he knew that given her age and maturity, it would be easy to trigger her protective instincts.

"....stop..." Seleyena's eyes flickered as she heard his words, clearly realizing her mistake as she turned her eyes lower, feeling the weight behind his words as she apologized for her previous prejudice, "I shouldn't have judged you or anyone based on one-sided evidence. I apologize...."

'Hah, neither are you a judge nor guilty here yet....sigh, why do these heroines not understand the kindness they have is hopeless...?

But again, this same thing called kindness and an easy-to-break body aroused him every time—just like right now, prompting him to just say it.

As he is a man of words.

"Can you touch my dick, Miss Seleyena?"

"Wh-what—!?"