Even If It’s Depraved - Chapter 2

And then—how many minutes had passed?

Bubble, bubble! The still surface of the lake rippled as bubbles surged up like molten lava.

Then—

“Pwah!”

The man broke the surface with a rough breath, lifting his head above the water.

His black hair clung messily to his body, yet there was nothing unsightly about him. If anything, he carried the relaxed air of a beast that had just finished its hunt in the rain.

After catching his breath, he brushed the wet strands from his face and strode out of the lake. Water dripped steadily from his hand as he held it out.

“There. As promised, I’ve retrieved it.”

“……”

“Then I suppose the princess should honor her sacred vow as well?”

She had no intention of breaking an oath sworn in the name of the great God. Brunhilde nodded firmly.

Grinning, the man bent down in front of where she sat. As she flinched, he seized her wrist and whispered,

“Now then… how should I take the princess?”

His gaze drew closer. It looked sharp, as if he might devour her at any moment.

Without realizing it, she leaned back, inch by inch, until her balance gave way. In the next instant, her body tipped backward.

She tried desperately to right herself, but it was no use. Before she knew it, she was lying down, the man looming over her, caging her in between his arms.

She swallowed hard.

Eyes blacker than night looked down at her like a predator. An oppressive gaze that crushed even the will to resist.

The man moved his hand.

Without fully touching her, his fingertips hovered over her cheek. Droplets of water fell from his hair—some trailing down her skin, others seeping onto her lips. Along with them came the faint warmth of his touch, like four small points of heat pressed into her skin.

His damp fingers traced her face as though appraising it—her eyes, the bridge of her nose, her hollow cheeks, and finally her faintly trembling red lips.

Though tense beneath a man’s touch for the first time in her life, Brunhilde did not avert her gaze. Instead, she looked at his eyes head-on in defiance.

“I’m not fond of thin women… but you have a strange way of stirring a man.”

“Enough with the insults. Take what you came for.”

“That wasn’t an insult, it was a compliment.”

Smirking, the man leisurely moved his other hand. His palm crawled up over her dress and cupped her b****t. He savored her reflexive flinch, murmuring low.

“No need to remind me, Princess. I fully intend to claim what’s mine.”

His large palm kneaded her through three layers of fabric. It was a dull sensation, but for Brunhilde, who had never known a man’s touch, it was utterly foreign. Just a simple act of groping over clothes. So why did her body feel strange?

His fingers found her n****e beneath the fabric, pressing it between thumb and forefinger. He rubbed it in slow circles.

“…!”

She stifled a reflexive moan and averted her gaze. The man grew bolder. He pinched the hardened peak, rolling it between his fingertips—the sensation sharper now, sending tingling waves through her.

Something stirred low in her throat, a sound she tried to swallow. He looked down at her with amusement.

“Already feeling it? And I’ve barely begun.”

“…”

“The supposedly chaste princess of Shelburg is rather lewd, isn’t she?”

Teasing her n****e through the fabric, he then pulled down the neckline of her dress. The neckline strained, revealing her camisole beneath. Startled by his roughness, Brunhilde twisted away—but she couldn’t overpower him.

He tore open the exposed camisole and shoved her brassiere up toward her collarbone. The damp forest air touched her bare skin—and only then did the reality of what was happening sink in.

He gazed at her pale b*****s with lazy satisfaction, catching the hardened n****e between his fingers. As he kneaded her b****t, the trapped n****e pressed deeper, sending a dull ache between her thighs.

“I thought you might resist more. You’re quieter than I expected.”

“It’s not like I can—hngh—!”

Before she could finish saying she had no hope of escape, a hot, wet mouth covered her hypersensitive n****e. He sucked like a child nursing, cheeks hollowing as he drew hard on the tender flesh.

The intensity was incomparable. Brunhilde tried to push him away, but it was useless. Amused, he pinned her arms down and continued his ministrations.

The tip of his stiff tongue teased the n****e he’d drawn into his mouth. He licked upward, then pressed flat and rubbed in circles. Her mind swam. Her untouched flesh, once protected, was utterly helpless against sensations she’d never experienced before.

“Nngh… hhngh…”

The man adjusted her thigh and hiked up her skirts. With one sharp motion, he swept the fabric aside and slipped his hand beneath her petticoat. His fingers found her underwear—and though she should have been repulsed, the man still sucking at her b****t made it feel like forbidden fruit.

“You’re wet already.”

“Nn—ah…!”

“Looks like even the princess’s hole wanted to be f****d.”