Chapter 67
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67
He had told her to say she hated it. If she did, he would stop this at once, and she would be sent away to the Reinhardt estate, a place hemmed in by mountains and lakes.
He was furious, utterly enraged by this insolent, mysterious Outsider. Veins bulged on his thick neck above his shirt collar, and not a trace of his usual mocking smirk remained on his lips.
So, this was undoubtedly a punishment.
“Ah…”
A sharp gasp escaped her. It felt different from the piercing pain of last night, and different from the slow, heavy pressure that had previously filled her.
Pressing down on her thigh with one hand, Oscar began to move the other. A wet, slick sound cut through the patter of the rain, filling her ears. Her whole body wasn't trembling like it had yesterday, but the frantic, probing touch inside her made Seo-ah feel just as undone.
Even as he stirred and pressed deep inside her, he looked like nothing more than a god of the underworld.
His veiny neck and forearms, his clenched jaw, his fierce eyes—he remained utterly unshaken, delving into her most private depths as if administering a punishment. The more he worked his fingers, the wetter she became, and his hand seemed to move even faster.
Under that willow tree, had the man and woman leaning against each other done this, too?
Had she, who buried her face in the folds of his robe, been shaken and unraveled just like this?
Just as the stray, disrespectful thought drifted through her mind, his fingertip pressed against an indescribable spot.
“……!”
It felt as if something thick and heavy was spreading from that single point of contact. A sensation like viscous honey flowed from his fingertip, spreading through her entire body, and all her strength drained away. A wave of languid pleasure swept over her from head to toe.
She had no time to process what was happening, no capacity to comprehend it. If Oscar hadn’t moved, she would have remained frozen there, utterly lost.
Expressionless as a heartless god of the underworld, Oscar slowly withdrew his fingers. Then, he straightened his back.
His broad chest, hidden beneath his shirt, rose and fell heavily. The moment she saw him catching his tightly suppressed breath, Seo-ah instinctively pushed herself up. Clutching her open collar with one hand and pressing against the mattress with the other, she sat. Lacking the courage to meet his eyes, she hung her head. Only then did she realize that her own breath was just as ragged as his.
Pant, pant.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, as if she had just run a marathon. Looking down, she saw her underwear caught between her pale, exposed thighs.
“Or did you like it? Should I pay you every time we do this?”
“If you're so desperate to throw your body at me, do it properly.”
The words she had tried to ignore sharpened once more, stabbing deep into her heart.
Unable to bear the sight of herself, she pulled her clothes down to cover her legs. Unable to bear the sound of her own breathing, she clamped a hand over her mouth.
What had she looked like in that moment, when her body felt like it was melting? It had felt like everything was draining out of her. In that instant, did she…
“……”
Her thoughts were cut off by a low curse. At the same time, a hot hand cupped her chin and forced it up. As her head was raised, she met the gaze of a man whose eyes were as hot and dry as a castle ravaged by fire. She felt as if she would be consumed by that heat. A cold tear slid down her cheek. Seo-ah felt his gaze trace its path before rising back to her eyes.
The corners of his tightly pressed lips twitched upward almost imperceptibly, then fell.
“Did you like it?”
Another tear slipped free. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She knew she shouldn't cry, but she couldn't control it.
While his lips held a faint sneer, Oscar's dark, sunken eyes seemed to plunge into a bottomless abyss.
Oscar brushed away the hand covering her mouth. Then, he pressed his thumb against her tightly bitten lower lip. As he applied pressure to the stinging flesh, he tilted his head and smiled brilliantly.
“Seeing how soaking wet you are, you must have liked it.”
“……”
Just let it slide.
A voice whispered from deep inside her.
Look closely. This man is just waiting for you to say you hate it.
Following that inner voice, Seo-ah looked him straight in the eye.
As she stared into his clear blue eyes, the brilliant smile on his lips twisted.
“……”
“……”
The blue eyes looking down at her flicked away as if to avoid her gaze, and he quietly caught his breath. Once his breathing settled, he looked back at her.
She could almost see a vortex swirling within those clear blue depths.
Just as she felt she might be sucked in, his head suddenly tilted toward her.
Watching him draw closer, Seo-ah thought their lips would meet again. But he stopped just a hair’s breadth away. A rich scent like damp wood tickled her nose.
Having stopped just short of her lips, Oscar pulled back slightly, only to lean in again as if to devour them. He looked ready to swallow her lips and the very breath inside her, yet right before they touched, he stopped again.
“……”
“……”
The sound of the rain seemed to vanish. The gap between them—almost touching, but not quite—was agonizingly narrow. Veins bulged on his forearm as he clenched his fist. This was a man who hadn't even breathed heavily while slaughtering an entire mercenary group, yet now he took several ragged breaths before finally straightening up.
“Fuck.”
The suppressed curse settled over her head like acrid smoke. As she blankly lowered her gaze, his eyes fell upon her once more.
The precarious thread that had been tormenting him all this time finally snapped.
“On your stomach.”
The command, hot enough to boil yet cold enough to freeze her lungs, fell upon her.
He had ordered her to lie down because he couldn't stand to look at her face. Every time he lost control and kissed her, he felt as if he were plunging into the depths of hell.
But her clear, light-brown eyes only widened in confusion.
“Don’t you know what ‘on your stomach’ means?”
Flustered by his cold, heartless tone, she quickly averted her gaze, blinked, and hurriedly turned over.
It was clear she had absolutely no idea what was about to happen.
As she turned, she ridiculously tried to adjust her clothes. Covering her open front, she quickly closed her legs—which had been spread wide before him just moments ago—and lay down in a perfectly neat posture. Her pale ankles and feet, exposed where her stockings had been stripped away, were the only bare skin showing.
Oscar let out a dry, disbelieving laugh at the sight of her modest back.
That cruel way of speaking. His mother's voice, telling him “You take after your father,” echoed in his mind. His memories of his father, who remained only as a bronze statue, were faint. If his mother—a woman more selfish and cruel than anyone—called his father cruel, just how monstrous must the man have been?
In any case, one thing was certain: he carried their blood in his veins.
“Get on your knees.”
His cold, heartless voice washed over her. But the woman, who usually moved quickly to obey his commands, remained still. Then, just as Oscar was about to snap, she pushed herself up slightly, looked back over her shoulder, and asked, “I… I don't understand what you want me to do.”
Did he want her to kneel, to stand up, or something else entirely?
Oscar suddenly recalled the time she had protested that she was only spinning because he had told her to turn around.
Back then, it had made him chuckle. Now, a heavy breath escaped from where that chuckle should have been. He felt as if thick, viscous lava were pooling in his throat.
Staring at her pale profile, Oscar grabbed her waist without ceremony and hauled her up.
“Ah!”
Her sharp gasp brushed against his ear.
As he pulled her hips up, her knees naturally bent against the mattress, and her hands reflexively braced against the bed.
“Like this.”
Her rounded hips, her arched back.
Having personally guided her into a posture that was anything but modest, Oscar pulled back the pitiful hem of her dress to expose her. Only then did she seem to realize what was about to happen.
She squirmed, desperately wanting to stop his touch. But at the same time, her own words—her insistence that she didn't hate this—held her captive.
A cruel smile spread across Oscar's face.
Let's see what thoughts are floating around in that tiny head of yours, and just how much you can endure.
Oscar deliberately pulled the fabric back slowly. Her skin, now hypersensitive, registered the slightest brush of the cloth with agonizing clarity. As her pale calves and thighs were slowly exposed, he could hear her breath growing shallower. Finally, when the fabric was bunched over her hips, she grabbed the hem and looked back over her shoulder.
“Your Excellency, I…”
Her furrowed brow, her flushed eyes, and her trembling, tear-filled voice made it sound as if she were begging.
At that moment, the cruel nature that had made even his mother shudder reared its head.
A sudden urge to immortalize this sight washed over him. He wanted to sketch it in meticulous detail and show it to her.
To show you exactly what you look like, looking back at me with those flushed, tearful eyes.
Her begging was so erotic it made him want to come just looking at her, but he had absolutely no intention of granting her plea. Without a shred of hesitation, he stripped the fabric away.