My Man is My Magic Honeypot

After rejecting the 999th consort candidate my master, Madam Freya, had introduced to me, she finally reached her limit.

"What the hell are you waiting for? You're the once-in-a-lifetime genius of Nymphomist magic, and yet you've never gone through the Great Rite! You're not getting any younger, girl. At this rate, how are you supposed to improve your spiritual power?!"

I sighed.

Of course I wanted to find a consort and perform the Great Rite already. But every single one of those candidates looked like shit.

Unfortunately, my absurdly high standards for men ended up stalling my spiritual power for too long. I failed to survive the Trial of Lightning and died...

Then I opened my eyes and realized I was in another body, in another world. The beauty standards here were completely different from those in the elven world.

I looked across the room, and my eyes immediately landed on the most perfect man I had ever seen. He was 6'2", with sharply defined washboard abs. His face looked as though the gods themselves had sculpted it.

I ran straight toward him and threw my arms around his waist.

Oh, he's the one!

To my surprise, this god among men narrowed his eyes and grabbed me by the neck. Rage burned in his expression. "You would throw yourself at a man as hideous as me just for my money?! You disgust me!"

What the hell was he talking about? Honestly, all I could focus on was the way his sexy, seductive lips moved against each other whenever he spoke.

Please. Just let me bite them already!

I sensed cold steel against my wrists and shivered as I opened my eyes.

A bed covered in pink sheets came into view, but my attention quickly shifted to the man standing against the light. The sight of him immediately set my throat on fire.

He stood at least 6'2", his compact frame carrying an unmistakable air of dominance. The first two buttons of his dress shirt hung open, exposing the sharp outline of his collarbones and the smooth, powerful planes of his chest.

But his face. Holy shit. Those deep, endless eyes. That sculpted, almost elven nose. Those thin, supple lips pressed into a seductive frown.

I gasped. My gaze locked onto his washboard abs and refused to move.

He was a god among men. There was no way he could be anything less.

"Ha."

Oh Lord. This fine specimen had spoken, and his voice carried a magnetic, sensual baritone. The sound clashed sharply with the deep self-loathing woven into his tone.

"I knew it. It doesn't matter if I'm the richest man in the world. Even money can't soften this cursed, hideous appearance." His expression darkened. "Now that you've seen how repulsive I really am… get out."

He bent toward me and unlocked the pink handcuffs around my wrists.

Frankly, I was too stunned to move. How the hell was I supposed to process the insane thing he had just said? A dreamboat like this was calling himself ugly?

The man dialed a string of numbers and barked coldly, "Get your daughter away from me."

The door opened, and a middle-aged couple entered with nervous, lowered heads. They were probably the parents of this body's original owner. Both trembled visibly, though disgust still flickered through their fear-stricken eyes.

"M-Mr. Valentia?" my bum of a father stammered. "I s-swear, Cher is genuinely in love with you. P-Please accept her feelings, sir. Let her stay!"

My equally awful mother rushed to add, "Yeah! And if you could invest in our company, Cher is all yours! But of course, I can assure you she's here of her own volition!"

I stared at them in disbelief. Had I really just watched a couple try to barter their daughter for money in this day and age? Did I hear that right?

I was practically half-undressed over here, and instead of reacting to that, these two were openly trying to sell me off for cash right in front of me.

Matteo Valencia suddenly let out a scornful laugh. "Eyes over here, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe. Surely my future parents-in-law should like me enough to want me in their family, right? So look at me. If either of you can stare at me for more than ten seconds without looking away, you get your money."

My crappy parents exchanged excited glances before turning toward Matteo.

"That's almost too easy, Mr. Valencia! You're such an exceptional young… F-Fine… M-Ma— Aaaugh!"

My father gagged uncontrollably, and Matteo's mood darkened at once. The air in the room seemed to turn cold.

"Fantastic. Just fantastic," Matteo snarled.

Meanwhile, I stared at him in complete fascination.

Crap. He looked so hot when he was angry. I… I couldn't hold back anymore.

I lunged at him and wrapped my arms around his slender waist. The force of the movement buried my face deep against his muscles. Oh God, he smelled incredible.

The instant our bodies touched, a wave of pure, nearly tangible energy seeped into my skin. It poured straight into my Source, the place where all my spirit energy was stored.

Shock rippled through me. This godly man was more than eye candy. He was a literal mother lode of the power I craved.

He stiffened violently. "What the hell are you doing?!"

He tried to shove me away, but I moved faster. My hand slipped beneath his shirt and traced the hard warmth of his abs in all their glory.

"Oh, the shape of you… these ridges and edges…" I moaned, drunk on the sensation as I leaned down to kiss his deliciously compact abs. "Now this is what I call a true man!"

Matteo froze like he'd been struck by lightning.