Imprinted with the Obsessive Male Lead - Chapter 2

But the words that wandered inside my mouth never came out in the end. The hand that had entered inside my underwear touched my v***a. I flinched, my thighs tensing for a brief moment. Then it parted the moist flesh, and a thick middle finger invaded.

“Hhk.”

So deep that I had no choice but to suck in a breath and freeze for an instant.

“You said you were planning to run away. Were you waiting for this instead?”

“What are you talking about…”

“You get wet fast.”

At his blunt words, I bit down hard on my lower lip. I wanted to deny it, but it was true. After just a few strokes of his fingers stirring my insides, arousal had already seeped out, making everything slippery.

When he applied more pressure as if amused, I could even hear the wet, squelching sound clearly. My face burned hot. I hurriedly turned my head to the side.

“Look at me.”

When I didn’t move, he let out a faint scoff, grabbed my chin, and forced me to face him.

His large hand seized mine and brought it to his abdomen. His body was as uneven and solid as the strength he exerted. I tried to pull away, but it was pointless. As my hand traced his abs and moved lower,

it slipped smoothly into his pants.

A stiff, enormous shaft was rising up.

“This is because of you. You have to take responsibility.”

Just before I closed my eyes, I saw a crescent-moon mark gleaming on his collarbone. It was the same mark engraved on me. Soon after, his sweet body scent made my head go blank.

This wasn’t what I meant to happen.

What on earth is happening right now? Things have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong…!

***

My last memory before dying was on a library desk. An ordinary college student with nothing remarkable about me, I was absorbed in studying for a certification exam ahead of graduation. It wasn’t to the point of getting nosebleeds, but I do think it was a fairly exhausting day.

I must have dozed off without resisting the fatigue. At some point I woke up to a sharp cracking sound brushing past my ears. At the same time, a powerful pain surged into my head.

When I touched the painful spot, blood was flowing down from my torn forehead. I panicked briefly when I saw the vivid red blood smeared on my palm.

“…A cup?”

On the red carpet lay a shattered glass cup. I didn’t need to think long to realize that I’d been hit by that cup and was bleeding.

How did this happen?

As I stood there puzzled, a voice mixed with mockery rang out.

“Nita Grace, can’t you even stand properly?”

When I lifted my head, beneath a dazzling chandelier glowing in gold, I saw two men holding cups.

One had long hair reaching down to his elbows, the other short hair beside him. The long-haired one repeatedly tossed the cup he was holding into the air and caught it again.

“Now you can’t even stand straight like an idiot?”

“That’s why you’re a failure. A disgrace to the family. To think something like that is my sister.”

No matter the situation, these guys, who had clearly eaten manners for breakfast, were openly insulting someone to their face. I frowned deeply and spoke up.

“Apologize.”

“What?”

The sneers cut off abruptly. Their reaction was pure disbelief.

“I said apologize, you bastards.”

Of course, it was bluster and an empty threat, but with people who lack common sense, you have to act just as senseless. So, deliberately, I picked up a shard of broken glass.

“Apologize before I do the same to you?”

The attempt itself was good. Just the attempt.

“Is she crazy?!”

…And just like that, I was locked away in a back room.

It was an annex located in a remote corner behind the garden of a lavish mansion. Even within that building, it was the oldest, most dilapidated, neglected little room. Outside the window, thick-leaved trees blocked the view, so sunlight barely came in.

Narrowing my eyes, I surveyed the dim room and spotted a mirror hanging on one side of the wall. I wiped the cracked, chipped mirror with my palm. A skinny, battered woman stood there, wearing clothes far too large for her body, as if borrowed from someone else, one shoulder slipping down.

She had light beige-blonde hair and large eyes that shone pink, but her state was a mess. Hair tangled as if it had never once been properly brushed, pale skin like someone who hadn’t been fed properly, dry lips, and a swollen left cheek.

‘But why does my whole body hurt?’

I had been slapped a few times for talking back, but strangely, my arms and legs throbbed as if I’d been beaten all over.

“My body feels strange…”

As I stroked my badly swollen cheek, I rolled up my sleeves and skirt to check my condition. Then I froze, my breath stopping for a moment in shock. Not just my limbs hidden by clothing, but my abdomen and thighs too.

Every visible part of my body was covered in bruises.

Leaning my back against the wall, I slid down to the floor. At this point, I had no choice but to admit it.