Arabella stared out of focus at the swirling white steam. She was already dazed by his kisses, that fine, tingling numbness flowing through her body like an electric current. It felt too good—so good that she shivered.

She couldn't stop herself from trembling.

Arabella knew what they were doing. She clung tightly to Frederick's back as the water overflowed from the tub during their movement. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breath falling against his ear. "Frederick, are we doing... the thing people only do after they're married?"

She whispered in German, "Wir haben s*x."(We're having s*x)

"Your German is excellent, baby. That is exactly what we are doing." Frederick smiled, his wet palm stroking her cheek. "May I?"

Arabella closed her eyes shyly. "I want you too, Frederick."

So, of course he could. In fact, he could have long ago. As long as she wanted it and he wanted it, it could happen.

Frederick gave her a quick kiss, then mischievously nudged her with his head. The heavy force caused the bathwater to splash everywhere, leaving the entire bathroom in a state of chaos.

Arabella realized that even Daddy had such a wicked side. Her heart felt soft and aching.

She thought of those nonsensical images—like Frederick in a uniform and long boots, holding a hunting rifle with an air of overwhelming pressure.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess in the steam. The hunter was cold, his steaming barrel pointed straight ahead. The defenseless Little Bird had no power to resist such an assault and surrendered her armor with ease.

The hot water, mixed with eaglewood essential oils, was joined by a bit of "sugar water."

Frederick had long known that she was a baby who was very easy to please and satisfy. It only took a little bit of sweetness to earn her highest praise. He had known this since their last kiss, and this time was no different—in fact, it happened even faster.

He received the best answer, his voice deep and husky as he praised her, "So good, baby."

"You're praising me again," Arabella said, dazed. She was the kind of good child who would lose her head at a single word of praise—the type of good student teachers loved most.

Frederick chuckled softly. "Of course. You are incomparable. My praise is merely a statement of fact. You must continue to work hard, alright?"

Arabella didn't know what she was supposed to work hard at, but she soon found out.

Frederick's lips were beautiful—not the thin kind that looked stingy or cruel, but sexy and smooth. They felt tender when he kissed her. His fingers, however, were another story. Years of exercise had made them firm and powerful. They were incredibly flexible; hunting, rock climbing, and sailing had covered his pads in thick callouses. Compared to his lips, there was no tenderness to speak of. Yet, this rough texture was perfect for kneading cream, glutinous rice, and chocolate beans.

Arabella felt like she was about to explode—this was completely different from the last "reward"!

"Daddy...!" She gripped Frederick's arm, but her hands were too small and his arms too thick; she couldn't even wrap her fingers around them.

"What is it, baby?" Frederick looked at her, his index finger already submerged in the soft, sticky "hot rice cake," trying to bend within the dense, viscous substance.

Arabella bit her lip, letting out a soft whimper. "I don't know... it's so strange..." Her voice began to tremble as all her nerves tensed.

"Don't be afraid, Little Bird. You just have to tell me if you like it or not. Think of it like eating a ladyfinger biscuit. You love tiramisu, don't you? Tiramisu has ladyfingers soaked in brandy." Frederick spoke in a low voice, using his other hand to tilt her chin up and kiss her cheek.

Arabella shifted awkwardly and whispered, "...Actually, I can just eat the baguette! I don't need to have the ladyfinger first. It's not like I can't eat it. Besides, I'm a brave girl."

Frederick was caught between laughter and tears. He gave her cheek a stern but gentle pat and educated her patiently. "Little bird, this isn't about completing a mission. It has nothing to do with being brave. I just don't want you to get hurt. Be obedient."

In truth, he wanted nothing more than to break into the mysterious treasure vault like a thug, his eyes red with greed as he stood stunned by the magnificent palace, drunk with a desire to possess and take everything. He restrained himself so much his heart ached.

"Oh..." Arabella relaxed bit by bit, biting her lip. Frederick's fingers looked slender and sexy, but after experiencing them, she realized they were truly thick. Yet he had something many times thicker that he didn't bring out easily.

Arabella was actually quite apprehensive; she wasn't nearly as relaxed as her words suggested.

Heavens, would she die? She wanted to feel good, but she didn't want to die. The thought made her nervous, and she stole another peek at Frederick.

Wow... isn't that the German specialty she'd eaten? An extra-large version of a Bavarian sausage!

Her mischievous thoughts made her forget her promise to Frederick to relax.

"Be good, Little bird. I'm truly afraid of hurting you." Frederick felt quite helpless.

"I'm very, very good..." Arabella acted spoiled, speaking in a high, sweet voice as she wiggled. Then she lay still obediently, trying not to let her mind wander.

Frederick remained calm, adjusting the rhythm of his breathing in the stifling heat of the tub. He then held his hand before Arabella's eyes, extending his index finger in a gesture for 'one.' "See this, baby? You need to accept this first."

Subsequently, his long index and middle fingers held up a 'two.' "Then this."

Arabella was momentarily dazed.

Immediately after, Frederick held up three fingers—index, middle, and ring. Pressed together, they displayed a frightening sense of strength. "Then all of these at once. Do you understand?"

"................."

Arabella was utterly stunned.