Chapter 97
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 97
This was the result of a night spent greedily devouring each other.
Just as he began to pull out, Oscar reversed the motion and pushed his hips forward again. The mingled fluids drenching her impossibly narrow passage eased the entry of his member, which was swollen thick with monstrous lust. The moment he felt the tip slide smoothly into her depths, her delicate muscles clamped down on him.
“Stop…”
“Ha… If you want me to stop, you shouldn’t be clenching around me like this.”
An urge to ejaculate—he had long since lost count of how many times—surged through him. As the thick, tingling sensation spread, his entire body tensed. The lines of his abdomen sharpened, and the veins standing out on his strained muscles pulsed violently.
He pulled back, then thrust forward again. The wet, lewd sound of slapping flesh and the scent of their mingled fluids assaulted his senses.
While moving his hips fluidly, his unwavering gaze remained fixed on Seo-ah. Oscar lifted the right arm that had been propping him up and wrapped it over her head.
It was incredibly easy to handle a woman who was barely half his size. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm, his elbow resting just in front of her face. Then, he slipped his hand under her chin, which was buried in the blanket, and lifted it.
Utterly exhausted, Seo-ah went limp in his grasp, melting against him.
With his free left hand, Oscar pried her left thigh open. Her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, flickered. He felt her leg tense, but he simply raised his own knee and draped her thigh over it.
“Ah, Your Excellency. This, this is…”
“Do you hate it? Why? Is it because you’re ashamed?”
Her pleading voice seemed to melt in his ears. Looking down, he was met with a hazy, intoxicating sight. Between her parted legs, his thick, flushed shaft was buried deep inside her fully exposed, crimson flesh. Semen wasn’t just coating her from within; it was leaking from where they were joined. As he pulled back, the fluid that had pooled inside her spilled out in a rush.
Oscar moved his hips in a slow rhythm, watching himself slide in and out of her.
Swaying his taut hips like a serpent, he slowly caressed the slick folds of her flesh, spread open like a flower in full bloom. He teased her swollen, hardened clitoris, and her gaze grew tearful and hazy, like an overcast sky.
“Ah, mm… Stop… I don’t want to…”
The grotesque demon inside him laughed at the sight.
Is this what a plucked flower looks like?
Feverish groans spilled from her trembling lips as her rounded breasts swayed.
Lifting his hand from her, he cupped her soft breast instead. He squeezed the flesh and pinched the tip, and she squeezed her eyes shut with a gasp.
“Ah, hngh.”
Her whimpers sent a sudden rush toward release through him. He gripped her slender waist, feeling as if his entire being was buried in a passage made just for him. The tight, delicate walls seemed to wrap around him, rubbing against him again and again.
The woman he had thought of as a scar was, in fact, an intoxicating drug.
The moment the tingling lust spread from head to toe, he poured everything he had into her one last time.
“Ngh.”
It felt as if his body was shattering into tiny pieces and flowing into that narrow, warm place. He had intended to melt her down and consume her, but instead, he was the one being melted and devoured. Every last drop of his blood seemed to be dissolving and getting swept away, yet the sensation brought him an insane sense of satisfaction.
Like a fortress wall collapsing in a raging fire, Oscar fell over Seo-ah, reduced to nothing but smoldering ruins.
Heavy, lewd breathing drifted through the quiet room. The scent of their lovemaking—a smell he had always found repulsive—clung to the air. With each of her shallow breaths, the woman’s soft, peach-like body pressed gently against his chest before pulling away.
A satisfying languor, like that of a well-fed beast, washed over him. The fatigue from several sleepless nights, combined with the aftermath of their endless coupling, crashed down on him all at once.
Sleep approached. He stared at its advance with an unfamiliar feeling.
To him, sleep had always been nothing more than a brief period when his razor-sharp reason grew slightly dull. His consciousness remained half-awake, constantly monitoring his surroundings. It meant little more than closing his eyes for a moment.
But now, he didn’t want to lift a single finger.
Oscar’s eyes slowly closed.
He wished everything would just stop like this.
How long had passed?
His mind drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness like a buoy on the water. Then, just as he was about to sink completely, he snapped back to the surface.
Opening his eyes as if he had never closed them, Oscar looked at the woman in his arms.
She was moving with extreme quiet. Carefully, she lifted his arm from her chest and slipped out of his embrace as stealthily as a cat. Terrified of waking him, she paused repeatedly before finally freeing herself completely.
She hurriedly picked her clothes up from the floor, dressed, and crept out of the room without a backward glance.
Click.
The cool air clung to his skin.
“Ha.”
Oscar let out a dry laugh and closed his eyes again.
Perhaps it was because he had just woken up. The scent of their lovemaking that filled the bed, which had felt pleasant moments ago, now seemed incredibly repulsive, as did the damp traces they’d left behind. The aftermath of lust was as messy and wretched as a path ravaged by a storm. The languid sleep that had washed over him now felt as if it had rotted away.
He decided he could no longer sleep in this bed and was about to get up.
His eyes flicked toward the door.
He sensed her returning. The door opened stealthily.
He closed his eyes.
He focused his senses, keenly monitoring Han Seo-ah, who believed him to be asleep.
Patter, patter. A faint presence approached.
As she drew closer, Oscar’s breathing slowed. The moment she stood by the bedside, he held his breath, ready to spring up at any second.
Even if he had been temporarily blinded by lust, even if they had spent the night sharing their flesh, he was prepared to snap her neck without hesitation if she gave him a reason.
Yes, so the reason you acted so suspiciously was…
Rustle.
A softness like a spring breeze settled over the sharp edge of his thoughts. The moment her unique scent enveloped him, all thought ceased.
Opening his eyes a fraction, he saw a slender silhouette carefully tucking him in, trying not to make a sound.
After covering him, Seo-ah quietly retreated, carrying the soiled blanket with her. Oscar held his breath and watched her go, her small frame nearly hidden by the bundle she carried.
Click.
The door closed. A moment later, the door to the adjacent room closed as well.
Oscar glanced down at the new blanket, then slowly sat up. He stared at it for a long time, pondering her bizarre habit of changing the blankets every single time.
The white blanket felt somewhat coarser than his own and was just large enough for her to use alone.
“Then what does she plan to sleep under?” he murmured.
He suddenly opened his right palm.
The bandage she had clumsily wrapped around it had come undone long ago during their lovemaking. In truth, he didn’t need such a thing. Though the wound had been wide, it was already healing.
Perhaps because it was healing, it itched. It felt as if a feather were tickling his palm.
Staring down at his hand, Oscar suddenly clenched his fist. He squeezed so hard that the veins on his forearm bulged, and he felt the barely-closed skin tear open once more.
Warm blood welled up and dripped onto the white blanket.
It looked like a red flower blooming on the white fabric. Just like the marks on her back.
Oscar slowly rubbed the open wound against her blanket.
He wondered why he had intentionally reopened it, but at least the itching had stopped. That was enough.
A minor wound like this would heal on its own once he was busy. By tomorrow, the itch would be gone, and soon enough, he would forget he had ever been injured in the first place.
It had to be that way.
Was this a night the wound could not heal, or a night he had intentionally torn it open again?
The night passed in an instant.
Early the next morning, a bluish dawn enveloped Reinhardt Manor.
Like a wound arriving without warning, several unexpected pieces of news were delivered to Oscar. One of them concerned the death of Karl von Baden.
“Karl von Baden, who was imprisoned in the tower, has reportedly jumped to his death,” Barbara said as she handed Oscar his jacket.
“Who’s behind it?”
“It happened so suddenly that we haven’t yet identified the mastermind, but the King of Pelfe is the most likely suspect. His mother, Countess Ilya, is said to be on the verge of death from the shock.”
“And the King of Pelfe’s reaction?”
“Since the royal title had already been stripped, they don’t seem to be preparing a state funeral. The atmosphere in the Pelfe Palace is relatively calm.”
Oscar walked out into the Central Hall as he put on his jacket. Simon, who had been waiting, fell into step behind him.
Baden’s death, which had come sooner than expected, certainly required attention, but an even bigger matter awaited him.
“Ishas has notified us that the canal will be unusable for the next two months.”
