Chapter 45
Cyrone pulled back almost completely before slamming back in. It was so deep she could feel every inch of him pressing against her walls.
“Ah, ngh!”
When Cyrone raised his hips up again, Elia’s arms gave out, her back collapsing onto the bed. Pleasure blurred her vision, her fingers clawing at the sheets until her knuckles turned white.
“T-too deep—ah! Nngh!”
“Hah… relax.”
Elia hadn’t even realized how tightly she’d clenched around him. Cyrone pulled back slightly before driving into her again. Cyrone drove into Elia as if expelling the last of his breath. An indistinguishable wetness dripped steadily from where their bodies joined.
“You just won’t… let go.”
His p***s swelled even thicker inside her, stretching her walls. Elia gasped, biting her trembling lip as her hips twisted helplessly.
But Cyrone only gripped her waist tighter, dragging her back against him before flipping her onto her back.
“Ah—!”
Her knees trembled where they were propped up, her legs spread toward the floor. Cyrone pulled her torso against him as he thrust from behind. Elia’s head fell back and moaned. His length dragged slow and deep.
“With a body like this… you still dare… to refuse me.”
“Hah!”
A sharp thrust made Elia lose strength. It left her in a shameless position—back arched, hips raised. But Cyrone gave her no rest and slammed into her relentlessly.
Elia barely caught herself against the wall and cried.
“Ah—ah! Cy-Cyrone! Stop, please—!”
His fingers dug into her slender waist as he pistoned into her. Overwhelmed, Elia’s face pressed into the sheets as she moaned. The lewd slap of skin filled the air each time his thighs met her butt. Her slender body jolted helplessly with every thrust.
“Ah! Ngh!”
Cyrone’s movements grew rougher, his lips crashing against the nape of her neck as he pushed himself in. Heat pulsed inside her. Elia shuddered at the scorching warmth of his body pressed against her back.
Still buried deep, Cyrone rolled Elia onto her stomach. The sight of Elia’s dazed, flushed face sent another rush of heat straight to his g***n.
“…Ahh.”
A whimper escaped her as his member twitched inside her oversensitive walls. Cyrone trailed kisses along her collarbone, her jaw, her lips. Her damp lashes fluttered weakly under his relentless kisses.
“Ah… why… again…?”
His member hardened once more inside her. Her walls clenched around him instinctively. As he began rocking into her with slow thrusts, Elia gave out soft moans.
“Ah—ah! Ah!”
Her body burned again. Cyrone gripped her trembling hips, before murmuring against her closed eyelids:
“I love you.”
His voice was so relentless that it was terrifying.
* * *
“…Haah.”
It was only when night fell that Elia came home and finally sank onto her bed. Every muscle from her waist down to her toes ached so deeply that a weary sigh escaped her lips.
Just as she exhaled, there came a soft knock at the door.
“Miss, have you just returned from the funeral?”
“Susan.”
Susan peeked her head in quietly. Giving a cautious glance around, she tiptoed in and took a seat beside Elia’s bed.
“I told the steward that you were feeling unwell and went to rest early.”
If Nastan, the steward, knew Elia still hadn’t returned, there would’ve surely been an uproar by now.
Days when Elia met Cyrone often meant unexpected stretches of idle time. Susan usually covered for her with some excuse, and Elia nodded approvingly at her.
“Susan, I want to wash up first.”
The dampness between her legs still felt unpleasant. Elia sighed, exhausted. Susan nodded promptly and got up, then hesitated a moment.
“I’ll prepare the bathwater right away. Oh, by the way, Miss…”
“Hm?”
“Nastan said he would explain everything himself tomorrow… but I thought I should tell you, just in case.”
Susan was quiet and thoughtful like her mistress and rarely involved herself in noisy affairs and was the closest maid Elia kept by her side. For her to speak first like this meant she was troubled by something.
Fidgeting with her hands, Susan continued.
“They said you might not be allowed to leave the room for a whole week.”
The words felt almost absurd to Elia. She blinked, confused.
“What do you mean, not allowed to leave?”
“They said the master ordered it…”
Susan trailed off and lowered her head. Elia frowned slightly, pondering the meaning behind Susan’s words.
This wasn’t entirely unfamiliar; since childhood, Elia was used to being confined to her room for days as punishment.
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