In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 62

Schedule: Thurs and Sun

Chapter 62

The moment his teeth sank into the soft flesh, a sweet breath hit him. Ah, yes. This was the taste he craved. He’d wanted it ever since his prey stepped into the room—his sweet quarry, ripe as an apple waiting to be bitten. Benedict nibbled at Hilde’s lips, sucking on them with audible relish. The sound, wet and unrestrained, filled his ears with a sugary delight.

“Mm!”

She instinctively tried to pull away, but he caught her waist, drawing her flush against him. Their bodies met as seamlessly as their lips. He felt the frantic thump-thump of her heart against his chest. Whether from fear or arousal, it didn’t matter. The feeling was satisfying, purely because it was his doing.

He pushed his tongue deeper, savoring the honeyed tenderness of her inner flesh. The sweetness was intoxicating, amplified a thousandfold, sending a thrill through him. Like a honey-soaked apple yielding to pressure, her soft membranes melted against his tongue. He swallowed her sweet juices, her breath mingling with his own. At this moment, even if her essence were poison, he wouldn’t care.

He broke the kiss only when Hilde, breathless, was on the verge of fainting.

“Ha…ah…”

He couldn’t very well kill her, could he? He pulled back, chiding her like a petulant child who hadn’t yet learned to breathe.

“Look at your master.”

He tilted Hilde’s chin up, forcing her gaze to meet his. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes, glazed with unshed tears, trembled beneath his stare. Her lips, glistening with honeyed moisture, beckoned him. Everything about her was tempting, even the frantic rhythm of her heart.

Should he devour her whole? The thought barely formed before Benedict pushed his plate away. It slid across the table and crashed to the floor.

Clang! The sharp sound coincided with his movement as he spun Hilde around and bent her over the desk.

“Ah!”

She startled and tried to straighten, but he pressed down on the nape of her neck, holding her in place.

“Little rabbit,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear, where the soft down was visible. “Do you have any idea where you are, to be so bold?”

She flinched, her body trembling. Benedict waited, expecting her arousal from moments before to return. But instead of subsiding, her trembling intensified, as if she were seized by a sudden chill. Her skin was damp with a cold sweat, and her face, as much as he could see of it, was pale. Her eyes, clouded with fear, filled with tears. Her lip, bitten to stifle a cry, was now bleeding.

The heat of the moment evaporated like water on hot stone.

“.…”

Benedict straightened up.

The pressure on her back released, Hilde hesitantly turned to look at him.

“Get up.”

“Master…”

“Just go.”

Her pink eyes widened. The sight of her tear-filled gaze and the delicate flush of her eyelids rekindled the embers of his desire. She’d come to him first, with that innocent face, but now, at the slightest pressure, she recoiled.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said go.”

Benedict reached for the bellpull to summon Greta and have Hilde taken away.

“Just now, I…I was so startled…”

Hilde’s hand darted out, grasping his arm. Her eyes flicked up to his, then down again as she stammered, “I…I’m taking a contraceptive potion.”

“And?” Benedict retorted coldly. “What pleasure is there in taking a weeping, trembling woman?”

She’s utterly useless. At his muttered words, tears finally spilled down Hilde’s cheeks. She cried even when told not to; she clearly had no intention of understanding him. Instead of wiping her tears, Benedict yanked the bellpull, intending to send her away with Greta. He turned to leave.