Chapter 436
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 436
Chapter Title: I'll Make It Perfectly Clear
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A soft smack.
Lips overlapping ever so lightly.
No intertwining of tongues.
No exchange of breaths.
Compared to the sticky, passionate kisses up to now, this one felt too shallow—almost childish.
But the girl's lips, already steeped in the scent of liquor, were sweet like honey and impossibly soft, stirring desire more fiercely than any seduction.
And the fragrance of alcohol wafting from Ainsha's body wasn't limited to her lips.
Slipping downward.
From her delicate chin.
Along her necklace-adorned neck.
And over her half-exposed collarbone.
More liquor had spilled during their kisses than she'd actually drunk, it seemed. His lips glided along her drenched skin, tracing that supple flesh, sucking it gently, drawing in the sweet aroma of alcohol.
"Ri... it tickles......"
The girl squirmed at the sensation of lips brushing her skin.
But that lasted only a moment.
His fingers slid up from her exposed waist, leaving red marks on her pale skin, turning the tickle into a strange thrill.
Her clumsy fidgeting shifted into sensitive writhing.
"......Feels weird."
Perhaps overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation she'd never felt before.
She clung to him with both arms, whispering in her usual blunt tone—but now laced with a subtle heat—as if begging him to do something about it.
As she wished, Rimon stopped teasing her.
Only to tease her even more.
His fingers, stroking her waist, slid upward, slipping beneath the thin fabric draped over her chest.
"Ri......?"
A wet slurp.
Soaked with liquor, the fabric clung stubbornly to her skin.
But he paid it no mind, prying it away from her flesh to gently cup the small mound hidden beneath.
A sharp twitch.
It fit perfectly in one hand, smooth and soft like a baby's cheek, the mere feel of it oddly satisfying.
Yet he wasn't content.
Not satisfied even after squeezing the mound to make her jolt, his hands tugged the garment away entirely.
A soft rustle.
The glimpse of skin she'd shown each time she asked him to help change her clothes.
Was it maidenly shyness that made her cover it instinctively, or the reflex of prey facing a predator?
Rimon didn't bother wondering.
He simply kissed her fingers and gently pushed her hand aside.
A faint tremble.
Perhaps chilled by the outside air.
The modestly sized yet beautifully curved mound quivered shyly.
Propping himself on his knees to pin her resistance, the man leaned down and nipped at its peak.
"Ah......"
As if startled.
Even as her gasp echoed through the air, he didn't stop.
Like a beast tearing into its hunted prey, he ravished the girl's flesh that was now his.
"Ah, ah."
Unsure what to make of the chilling thrill, Ainsha clutched only his head, her lips twitching helplessly.
But the more she did, the more relentlessly he nibbled, his hand slipping beneath the flimsy skirt draped around her waist.
Slipping smoothly.
Tickling her sleek thigh.
The cloth around her waist loosened.
Lightly scratching her slender calf.
A layer of ornate fabric slipped away.
The moment he gripped her small rear.
The sheer inner skirt slid down.
By the time a brief moment had passed, the sturdy garments that had shielded her translucent skin were gone.
All that remained were bracelets and anklets that accentuated her white flesh.
And one final scrap of cloth.
"Ahh......"
But Ainsha hadn't even noticed.
The process had been so natural, and she was too lost in Rimon's ceaseless exploration to think straight.
A tingling heat built up.
Hotter, hotter, even hotter.
No matter how she twisted or panted, it only grew.
The unrelenting heat eased only in the moments he bit or caressed her.
But that thrill quickly returned as greater heat, deepening her agony.
And so, as the heat filling her body reached its deepest core.
"Eut!"
A high-pitched moan.
Rang out into the air.
A voice sweeter than any she'd imagined, even when singing.
Even in her drunken haze, startled by her own sound, Ainsha instinctively covered her mouth.
But it was futile.
Like a fish that had learned to swim couldn't drown.
Her body, now taught to release breaths on its own, responded to Rimon's touches with ever-hotter gasps.
The cries of a woman.
"Ri, wait....... hold on, haah, hng......"
Cheeks flushed from the overflowing heat—or perhaps shame—she pleaded.
But he didn't stop.
Instead, whenever she let out a sweet sound, he focused there, driving her to dizzying heights.
It was already a performance.
A unique symphony for her and him alone, with the world's greatest songbird as his instrument.
"Ah......"
With each caress, her voice deepened and sweetened, her fingers scraping his back growing limp.
And after a long while, when Rimon finally lifted his lips from her adorable navel.
The innocent girl was no longer there.
Only a woman remained, panting raggedly with a melted expression she could never have worn before and eyes brimming with moisture.
A soft slide.
Rimon didn't leave Ainsha sprawled half-unconscious on the bed.
As if only now getting started.
He pulled her limp form against him from behind, slowly sliding his fingers.
"Hng!"
Where and how had he touched?
Even in her limp state, she twisted her waist and stiffened.
"......This'll take a bit longer."
Sighing like a starving wolf at her unusually petite, fragile frame for her age.
Rimon sat on the edge of the bed.
Still holding Ainsha from behind.
As a result, she ended up sitting between his legs, her back against his firm chest.
A body so delicate it might snap if gripped too hard.
White skin flushed peach-pink.
A face damp with heat.
Only a few ornaments and that last scrap of cloth partially veiled her skin.
Her nearly fully exposed body bore no excess fat—it couldn't be called voluptuous.
Yet her skin was pristine as first snow, and the elegant curves from head to toe stirred the urge to conquer.
And Rimon didn't hold back that conquest.
A firm grip.
"Eut, mm."
As she trembled at his hand squeezing the soft mound from behind.
Rimon gnawed her pale nape with firm teeth, his other hand freely toying with her body.
Sometimes stroked.
Sometimes squeezed.
Sometimes tickled.
With each cunning touch, Ainsha writhed in agony, her hips bucking.
Her legs, thrashing long across the furs, were soon wrapped again in sweat-and-liquor-soaked fabric glistening transparently like shackles.
Ornate bracelets and anklets jingled with her shakes.
"Haa, haa."
By the time her mind grew hazy and she forgot even to flail.
Rimon's hand, kneading the mound, brushed her slim waist and navel, slipping smoothly into the depths.
A twitch.
Trembling body.
Legs drawing back slightly.
Yet her body, no longer stiffening but soft as well-cooked tenderloin, stayed pliant in his embrace.
Rimon smiled faintly.
And drew something out.
Sliding from thigh to calf, precariously hooked on one ankle—a scrap of pure white cloth.
Before Ainsha could realize what it was.
Rimon's arms, which had held her protectively until now, gently pressed her slender shoulders down.
And a fiery heat.
Pierced her.
"......!"
A sharp spasm!
Lightning flashed in her mind.
Tiny hands tore at the furs.
Her limp white legs stretched rigid to the toes, her head thrown back, neck quivering as even breath halted.
Like an ice fish impaled on a spear.
Or a butterfly pinned as a specimen.
As she convulsed from the shock of that searing mark on her untouched purity.
What seeped into her ears was breath.
"Shh."
A soothing voice and tender hand stroking her hair.
Unlike his usual indifference—but all the more comforting for it from her lover.
The moment she relaxed into that reassurance.
A ripple.
"Hng!"
A gentle rock, plunging the flame deeper.
But there was no pain.
Instead, filling her was pleasure.
The overwhelming dragon cyonics even a dragon's heir struggled to bear melted away pain amid the hazy drunkenness and searing heat, leaving only stimulation.
That must have been why.
Before long, she matched him.
"Ah......"
Following his hand pulling her thigh, she opened herself.
Sliding her toes precariously holding her weight across the furs, drawing their bodies deeper together.
A creak.
The bed cried out, the layered furs be damned.
But Rimon ignored it.
Slowly, gently.
Yet irrevocably, unmistakably.
He focused only on etching his mark inside and out of Ainsha's white body and heart.
And so hot breaths, moans, and sticky flesh-on-flesh sounds echoed for a long while.
The dragon cyonics swelling within her peaked and finally erupted.
"......!!!"
Her slender waist arched.
And her mind went blank white.
................
......
And so.
Time passed.
The bed, somehow holding its shape despite torn furs.
There, still embracing Ainsha from behind, Rimon gazed at the stove exhaling warm steam and spoke lowly.
"Ainsha, your mind hasn't changed?"
"......Of course not."
"You said you'd do anything for me, but I can't do the same."
"I know."
"You're not my first bride, and you probably won't be my last."
"That's fine."
Perhaps from the lingering warmth.
She answered in a voice softer and more languid than usual.
Then, leaning against him, Ainsha whispered.
"I knew everything and chose this. If it goes wrong, it just means my feelings for you weren't that deep."
"......I see."
All her choice.
No responsibility on him even if her feelings faded.
Like a foolish lover fretting over a bad man who took everything without giving more.
Rimon closed his eyes at Ainsha's words, tinged with a clear smile.
"Then that's that."
No matter her answer.
The outcome was set.
From the moment she accepted the cup, she couldn't leave him.
From the moment he offered it, he couldn't refuse her either.
He'd just wanted to give her one last chance not to be cowardly as her lover, knowing it was pointless.
As Rimon sighed at the girl who unhesitatingly kicked that chance away.
Ainsha suddenly drew her leg up, sliding her anklet-clad ankle lightly over his thigh, and spoke.
"But Ri, do you know this?"
"What?"
"I'm... an idiot."
"......Yeah, I know that well."
What was this out of nowhere?
Ignoring his exasperated look.
She extended her hand too, fidgeting her fingers on his firm thigh, murmuring.
"I... have a bad memory. Even seeing the future, I forget and mess up a lot."
"That's not forgetting—it's ignoring what you know or messing up on purpose. So what?"
"......So."
"So?"
Unlike her usual boldness.
Hiding her flushed face—even down to her neck—by bowing her head.
In a low voice, not blunt but shy.
The girl said softly.
"That I'm yours now....... Make it even more clear for me."
"......"
Once might not be enough; she'd forget. Etch his mark more vividly on her body and heart.
Her request was clear, despite the tiny voice.
Momentarily silent at the feel of her skin teasing his leg—clumsily imitating him, yet all the more arousing.
"......Don't regret it."
"Of course not."
Despite ending gently out of consideration for her body.
Lamenting the lamb's folly in marching into the wolf's maw, rejecting his care.
Unable to ignore his unquenched burning desire.
Rimon gently tugged Ainsha's head back, claiming her upturned lips upside down.
A wet kiss.
And so......
As flesh slid slickly together.
Two days after the ger filled once more with thick musk and gasps.
The curtain rose on the Demon God's subjugation.