Chapter 46
At the time, she had been too shaken to even consider who might have sent the note. But now that she thought about it… her son was right.
The ornament it had been hidden in was a gift from Emily. And the tiny handwriting… At the very least, it was certain that her daughter-in-law had known about her pregnancy.
Her head was spinning. Brunhilde swayed in her chair, barely holding herself upright. Carlos apologized again as his face contorted.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Mother.”
“Ah… ah…”
“It’s my fault for bringing such a woman into this house… for letting this happen to you…”
Tears streamed down his face. Brunhilde looked down at her son, who was crying helplessly, unable even to reach out, and then slowly extended her hand.
She cupped his tear-soaked cheek and spoke with difficulty.
“It’s… not your fault.”
“Mother…”
“I… I was the one who was wrong. Toward you…”
She hadn’t meant to pressure him into taking a wife. Perhaps it was because her son was crying before her. But despite the shocking truth, her mind felt strangely clear.
Maybe she had already been hardened by everything that had happened in the past few days, dulled to the pain.
“Are you all right?”
“I… I…”
“Mother is sorry.”
Her voice was soft, heavy with regret. At her apology, his tears only fell harder. She drew him closer, guiding his head to rest in her lap.
“I can’t believe it… that Emily would do something like this…”
“Carl, my dear…”
“From now on… who am I supposed to live with?”
His tearful voice made her chest ache. Gently stroking the back of his head, she whispered.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Carl.”
“I… ngh…”
“Mother is sorry for hurting you. For making you suffer like this.”
After Emily had discovered their forbidden relationship, he must have borne that burden alone and she had never realized. She had doubted him, lashed out at him, accused him of things he hadn’t done. How deeply must that have wounded him?
Seeing her son sob like this, she understood that every harsh word she had thrown at him had been violence. Her heart felt heavy as she stroked the back of his neck.
After a long while, Carlos lifted his head. His lips trembled, wet with tears.
“Mother.”
“Yes, my dear?”
“…May I kiss you?”
“….”
He looked so fragile, like a fledgling soaked in rain, that she couldn’t refuse. She gave a silent nod.
Carlos got up , bracing himself against her knees, and pressed his lips to hers.
Their breaths tangled. At first, it was nothing more than a gentle brushing—like a bird touching beaks. But then, suddenly, he pushed deeper, slipping into her parted lips.
She didn’t stop him. The taste of his tears spread inside her mouth. She simply accepted him, until the heat of their shared breath burned through her.
“I love you, Mother.”
“I love you too, my son.”
“I want to love you more, Mother.”
“…If that’s what you want.”
Her answer fell easily. Carlos’s eyes widened slightly at that.
Brunhilde leaned in first this time, pressing a brief kiss to his lips before speaking softly,
“Step aside for a moment. I should lie down.”
As if entranced, he moved. She passed him and lay down on the bed. Looking at her son, watching her with yearning in his eyes, she spoke gently,
“Come here now, my dear.”
Carlos climbed onto the bed and collapsed over his mother. Brunhilde held his head tightly in her arms. Pressing his lips to her nape and collarbone, he breathed her in. His lower body is already stiff with desire.
“Mother… my mother…”
“Mm, Carl.”
“Is this a dream?”
“It’s not a dream. It’s reality, my child.”
Carlos, his face twisted as if he might cry, parted her bodice. He kneaded her full b*****s, then pressed his lips to her n****e. Milk, sweet and warm, flowed from the mother who had lost her baby less than two months ago.
Swallowing the streaming milk, he confessed in a low voice:
“I’ve wanted to taste your milk for a long time.”
“Drink… haah… all you want, my child.”
“Brunhilde… my beloved Brunhilde…”
His hand, still greedily suckling, drifted lower. He lifted her skirt and slid between her legs. Pulling down her undergarments, his fingertips delved into her parted folds. Brunhilde welcomed her son’s touch once again.
“Ah—ah…!”
Slurp, suck. The sound of nursing mixed with the wet noise from below was obscene and lewd. Brunhilde crumbled completely beneath her own son’s lips and fingers. After feasting on both her b*****s, he finally removed his lower garments. He spread his mother’s legs and thrust into her fiercely.
“Ah—nngh!”
Though they had continued relations close to intercourse, proper penetration hadn’t occurred since she’d learned of the pregnancy. Meeting his hot, hard length again after so long, her flesh responded with lewd slickness. Brunhilde did not hold back her moans or her pleasure.
“I love… hngh! I love you, Brunhilde…!”
“Nngh! Hnngh—haah!”
Mother and son coupled like beasts—until the fluids from their joining soaked the sheets, until their bodies were slick with sweat.
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