Chapter 48
Then he seized his mother’s wrist as she blinked dazedly.
“It seems you don’t fully understand why I’m upset.”
“Then tell me. Why are you so—”
“Then I’ll have to make you understand with your body.”
With a cool smile, he pushed Brunhilde down onto the bed. Pinning her beneath him, he began to suck greedily at her milk-filled b*****s.
“Wh-what—hngh!”
She tried to resist, but it was useless. As her son, who had been nursing vigorously, rolled her n****e with his tongue, a helpless moan escaped her. His other hand kneaded her other b****t, teasing the n****e, then slid lower. The fingers that parted and entered her were startlingly cold.
“Wh-why are you doing this? Please, just talk to me…!”
“Mother belongs to me.”
Carlos finally lifted his mouth from her b****t, the words sharp as a bite.
“Your milk. Your pretty c**t. Both are mine alone. Do you understand?”
“What are you even—”
“One brother was enough to share you with.”
“…”
Brunhilde momentarily lost her voice. Her son savagely began to stroke her most sensitive places with familiarity. Against her will, her breath quickened, her mind grew hazy, and his voice continued.
“You told me about the curse that runs in the family.”
“Stop—hngh…!”
“The desire to possess Mother.”
Pleasure was slowly consuming her mind.
“Emily is dead. So whose desires will that child—Brandt’s son—inherit?”
“P-please…!”
“What if the child who suckled your milk comes to desire you? What then, Mother? Like I did. Hm?”
His long fingers pressed into the spot that made her feel best. Pushing, rubbing, stroking. Her vision flickered; her mind filled with heat. And in the euphoria just before climax, a thought struck her like lightning.
*’I’ve always loved you more than anyone in the world. Which is why I loved your child too. So why would I kill your child?’*
If there was a reason to kill—
Memories surfaced. A painful realization clawed through her brain. Her son had already removed his trousers. Just as his e***t shaft was about to enter her, Brunhilde choked out,
“Surely… you didn’t break your promise…?”
Her son, pinning her shoulders down, smiled with the barest upturn of his lips. He leaned close, meeting her eyes, and spoke gently.
“How could I, Mother? I didn’t break my promise.”
“Liar! Emily was right. You killed—”
“Mother. Do you remember exactly what promise you asked of me?”
Cupping her cheek as if she were precious, he whispered softly but clearly.
“That the child I give birth to… you’ll truly protect and love them.”
A sudden chill wrapped around her. Carlos looked at his mother, trembling with cold, and explained kindly.
“If you had given birth to that child, I would have truly protected and loved it.”
“Ah…”
“But I never promised to love the one still in your womb.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled.
“It’s a pity you didn’t keep the family curse a secret from me.”
“Please… stop…”
“I loved the child you carried. But once it was born, it would desire you. You are mine, Brunhilde. I’ve claimed you. Why would I share you with anyone else?”
Besides, you were planning to kill yourself if you gave birth. Did you think I would let my beloved commit suicide?
His shaft pierced her as he whispered these endearments. It ravaged her down to her very womb. As the sound of an infant’s cry grew louder, she rocked beneath her son’s hips like a little boat.
She tried to bite her tongue. But Carlos, ever cautious, wouldn’t allow even that. He forced his fingers into his mother’s mouth and whispered sweetly.
“I’ll arrange a new room for you starting today, Mother.”
“Mmm—nngh!”
“Emily’s old villa. You’ll be safe there.”
I’ll put a bit in your mouth so you can’t hurt yourself, like I did with my wife. I’ll bind you to the bed. Keep you like a pretty bird in a cage, shackled so you can never run away again.
You should have listened when I spoke gently. I told you—if you kept acting willfully, I might have to use less gentle methods.
A moment later, after sating his lust, Carlos lifted his mother, her mouth still gagged. Her mind is dizzy. Consciousness flickered; when she finally came to, she was bound to a bed in an unfamiliar room.
Her son placed a red bit in her mouth and a leather collar around her neck, and smiled beautifully.
“This is your room now, Brunhilde.”
Perhaps Emily—
Even her death—
He gazed at his bound mother, her face lost to ecstasy, then lowered his head. He parted her b****t and began to suck her milk greedily.
Gagged and helpless, unable even to speak, Brunhilde saw a vision: a golden orb sinking into a whirlpool of fate.
The sound of great gears clicking into place rang once in her ear, like a fading echo.
This was the complete end of the fate she had tried to twist.
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