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Chapter 66

  1. Home
  2. Blasphemous Grace
  3. Chapter 66
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It felt as though her very mind was being pierced. Her whole body shook; she thought she might lose herself. Pleasure piled upon pleasure until she could bear no more.

—Thwack! Thwack!

Unaware of the fluid streaming from her, Delonas gripped his shoulders tight. The harder he thrust, the more her depths were ruined, the more violently fluid splashed at their joining—the tighter her grip became. She felt the intense gazes of the priests below, watching the spray. At that awareness, her inner walls clenched even tighter.

“Haah…!”

Ian’s breath grew hoarser, deeper. As if all that came before had merely been restraint, he rose up fully and seized her thighs.

—Squelch! Thwack! Slap!

He drove into her relentlessly.

“Hhnk, ah, aahk! Ah!”

Swept away by sensations that gave no pause for moans, Delonas’s toes curled. As her nails dug into his shoulders, he lowered himself, thrusting deeper, faster.

“Uhnng! Aaah!”

Her hips bucked involuntarily. His pace was too swift to follow; he entered her in uneven rhythms, stabbing unexpected depths. The dizzying sensations ravaged her mind until her strength gave way.

“Hh, ah, ah…”

Strange sounds escaped her. Saliva, perhaps. Then, onto her.

—Thump.

Something fell upon her. At first, she thought it sweat.

“……?”

But amid the overwhelming sensations, she felt his cheek, pressed against hers.

She distinctly felt it—the dampness at the corners of his eyes. Not sweat. Tears.

Delonas’s eyes flew wide open. The man violating her depths more profoundly than any other—she saw his jaw clench. Finally, his expression came into faint view.

In that moment, he whispered.

“Just a little longer.”

Amidst the ragged breaths, the animalistic sounds of priests stroking themselves as they watched, his trembling voice reached her clearly.

“Just endure a little longer. Even if you despise me.”

As he spoke, his hand touched her chest. A faint stinging sensation—as if he pressed something against her skin. Something foreign at her breastbone.

But there was no time to register it properly.

It was a moment so brief it felt like a dream.

He who had been conjoined with her withdrew from below. As all eyes fixed upon them, he thrust himself back into her.

“Aaaahk!”

Whether from the sudden release of tension, her cry echoed through the chamber. Among the excited priests, white seed was seen spraying—some of it spattering even the altar. Ian, nearing his own peak, drove into her with increasing urgency.

“Uhnng! Ah, hhuaa!”

As her body, unable to resist, convulsed, Ian withdrew and spent himself.

“……!”

White seed splashed across her chest, reaching even her face. At that same moment, her own climax, uncontrollable, burst forth—the clear, odorless fluid she had released countless times today staining the altar. With that, Delonas lost consciousness.

***

While Delonas lay senseless.

After the ritual concluded and Delonas was moved to her quarters, Ian transformed the entire bath into holy water. Even for him, it was unprecedented—converting such a volume at once into concentrated Ephina.

But having extricated her from that scene, even insisting on personally attending to her bathing, he needed her to recover swiftly.

……!

Given that their eyes had met even through the dream-mist just before she collapsed, she was likely beginning to confuse dream and reality. This was to prevent her mind from fracturing further. But that was not the only reason.

Her brand, too, had begun responding to the protective stone—now was the opportune moment to speak with her. No, beyond opportune: it had to be now. Before she broke completely, as swiftly as possible, he had to tell her: You have a certain ally.

—Splash.

He held her in the warm, holy water, waiting. Until she slowly opened her eyes. Hoping that awakening in warmth rather than the cold she always knew might grant her some measure of peace.

***

‘Hhnnng!’

She had reached climax so many times she could not count them. Her legs trembled, strength failing, fluid leaking ceaselessly—yet the thrusting into her never stopped. Until she lost consciousness.

The temple, they said, was a path to heaven.

This place was hell.

“…….”

The moment awareness returned, what she felt was warmth. For an instant, she feared she was still atop that hell—the altar, cold yet made slick with heat and moisture—still being penetrated from below—

But as despair threatened to consume her—

“……?”

—the next sensation was lapping water.

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    Tags:
    European Ambience, Female Protagonist, First Love, Hardcore, Obsessive Love, Possessiveness, R19

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