Villain MMORPG: Almighty Devil Emperor and His Seven Demonic Wives - Chapter 1561

Chapter 1561: I’m Not Your Cutie
Villain Ch 1561. I’m Not Your Cutie

Yet none of them moved.

Gerry leaned toward Allen slightly, voice low like he was narrating a reality show. “Did she just call you cutie?”

Allen didn’t even blink. “Yeah. I’m shocked too.”

Both of them looked at Larissa like she’d grown a second head. Sure, she was flirty sometimes—playful in that ‘I’ll break your jaw and kiss you after’ kind of way—but this was different. Soft teasing? The twirl? What was next, pet names and picnic dates?

Allen muttered under his breath, “Okay… my golden retriever aura really is that bad, huh?”

Gerry nodded slowly. “Yup. Told you, bro. You’re giving off ‘snuggle me or I’ll cry’ energy.”

Before Allen could fire back, Larissa reached for his hand—actually grabbed it—and said, “C’mon. What are you waiting for?”

Allen didn’t budge. “You just got here, right? Isn’t your class about to start?”

She gave a small chuckle. “Uh, yes. But they can wait.” Her eyes ran down his clean outfit, the subtle dampness still clinging to his neck. “You—in this mode? This soft, golden light, reborn Allen mode? That’s a rare sight. I’m prioritizing.”

Allen exhaled through his nose, a slow drag of air, as if grounding himself. Because if Larissa was suddenly acting like this? Then something had to change.

And quickly.

His eyes flicked to the corner of the gym, near the hallway that led to the cleaning supply room. Shadowed. Out of line of sight from the reception desk. No CCTV. The gym hall couldn’t see it either.

‘Perfect.’

“Gerry,” Allen said quietly, turning back to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“Can you cover me? Just for a minute or two.”

Gerry blinked. “Cover you for what?”

“Just… don’t let anyone look over here. Me or Larissa. Block it.”

That was all he gave. No explanation. Just a nod to the hallway.

Before Gerry could argue, Allen’s fingers laced around Larissa’s wrist—and he pulled.

“Allen—?!” she gasped, stumbling slightly as he led her, almost silently, around the corner. Gerry stood there wide-eyed for a beat before Allen’s earlier words clicked.

“…Oh,” he muttered. Then louder. “Uh—sure! I’ll just… do some stretches. Yep. Right here. In the most inconvenient location possible. Blocking all vision.”

And behind that shadowed wall, Allen stopped.

Larissa stared up at him, heartbeat already kicking up just from the suddenness. “What are you—”

He didn’t speak. Not right away.

He stepped in, close enough that her back hit the cool wall behind her. One hand braced just above her shoulder. The other settled lightly on her waist.

His eyes pinned hers.

And when he smirked—that slow, dangerous, old-Allen smirk—her stomach flipped.

“I’m not your cutie, darling,” he said, voice a shade lower than before. Rough velvet. Sharp edges.

Larissa swallowed hard.

“I don’t need belly rubs,” Allen continued, leaning just enough that his breath grazed her cheek. “And I’m not some puppy you pat on the head and feed sweets to.”

His fingers slid gently to her jaw, thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. “You’re acting like I forgot who I am. So let me ask you…”

He leaned in.

His lips just a hair’s breadth from her ear.

“…Do I still look like a golden retriever?”

Larissa couldn’t breathe for a second.

Her body reacted before her brain did—pulse thumping at her neck, warmth curling down her spine. She felt her knees threaten to give just from that single whisper.

“No,” she murmured.

Allen’s lips curved again. “Didn’t think so.”

And then he kissed her.

Not soft.

Not gentle.

It was a claim.

He leaned into her, lips crashing against hers with slow, deliberate intensity. His hand cupped her jaw as his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush to his chest. Her hands found his shoulders instinctively—then dug in, nails curling slightly as if trying to hold on to something too good to be real.

Her back pressed harder into the wall, a quiet gasp escaping into his mouth as his tongue slid past her lips, teasing, tasting, devouring every trace of her stunned response.

And god, she melted.

Her heart pounded so fast it felt like it might burst out of her chest.

Allen pulled back just slightly, still close enough that their noses brushed.

Larissa’s lips were parted, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide.

Allen tilted his head, voice low, smug, magnetic. “Still wanna call me soft?”

Larissa stared at him, breathless. “…I stand corrected.”

“Good,” he whispered, letting his thumb graze her lower lip.

It was such a small touch, but damn if it didn’t spark through her like he’d just lit a match against her skin.

“Also,” she added, trying—and failing—to sound unbothered, “you kissed me in a supply hallway.”

“You flirted with me like you were gonna feed me biscuits and name me Mr. Wiggles.”

“I—” Her eyebrows pulled down as she tried to glare. Tried. It wavered somewhere between annoyed and wildly turned on. “You’re impossible.”

Allen chuckled softly. Not the sarcastic kind he usually gave when he was two seconds from roasting someone alive. No, this one was warm. Low. Dangerous in the way gravity was—pulling her in, whether she agreed or not.

He tilted his head just a bit, like he was admiring something. Her.

Then that hand—the one that had just left her lips tingling—moved. Downward.

She felt it. All of it.

His fingers drifted along her cheek, featherlight at first. They traced the curve of her jaw with maddening care, like he was mapping her face for the first time. And maybe he was. Maybe this was the first time either of them were letting the moment stretch into something less chaotic. Less battle of wills.

His thumb passed below her ear, trailing down the side of her neck—and god, it was unfair. The way her skin reacted. Goosebumps bloomed before she could pretend otherwise.

Allen’s palm brushed along her collarbone, slow and deliberate, the back of his fingers grazing the sensitive dip between her neck and shoulder like he knew exactly where to aim.

Her breath hitched.

And he felt it.