My Ruin to You - Chapter 11

“It—ah—hurts when you—nngh—squeeze like that…!”

“Oh? So you do know how to squeeze well?”

“That’s not—hah—what I meant, it’s been—hnng—too long…!”

“Right, so bite gently. If you tear it off, that’s your loss.”

Here, who do you want to stuff you? Hm?

Valen added in a whisper. He wanted to give her time to adjust, but his patience was too thin to just leave himself buried in that deliciously clenching hole. Thirty nights and five days. The fact that he’d even waited this long—not spreading her untouched, still-dry folds in the carriage—was already excessive consideration on his part.

Squelch. Squelch. Each slow thrust of his fully swollen length pushed mixed fluids out, soaking her underwear beneath them.

“T-too—ah—deep! Nngh—I s-said don’t—don’t move…!”

“That’s torture.”

“B-but—ah!—you’re too big…!”

“…I’m going to lose it.”

Every word of protest just turned into more stimulation—this was bad. Swearing under his breath, Valen propped himself up. As his position shifted, his c**k slid halfway out.

Who was the one whining about it being too deep just now?

Yet Roseline’s tender flesh clenched greedily around him, as if reluctant to let him go.

“Hah…”

His breathing roughened. He tried to regain some rationality, sweeping back his hair, but it was useless. Whether it was the pent-up desire clouding his brain or just the sight of Roseline gasping beneath him, his c**k twitched impatiently.

Even a eunuch would get hard at this sight.

Her cape was the only thing removed—her blouse still perfectly buttoned, prim and proper—while her skirt was crumpled up to her hips. Her pale thighs splayed open, the tight, dripping hole gripping him desperately.

Ah.

This was his limit.

He wanted to strip her bare, to touch and taste every inch of her soft skin, her b*****s—but he didn’t have the patience for it. Normally, he’d take his time with foreplay, teasing her until the usually reluctant Roseline was begging, Please, put it in— But right now, even that basic process felt unnecessary. All that remained was the crude instinct of a stallion in rut—to flood his mate’s insides with his seed.

His muscular frame completely engulfed her slender body.

“Ah—hah—I-I’ll—break…! Hhk!”

“Won’t break. Hah—Roseline, relax.”

He hugged her fragile form as if she might shatter, driving into her relentlessly. Pulling out until just the tip remained, then slamming back in to the hilt—slap, slap—his heavy balls striking her flushed skin with each thrust.

“Nngh—ah! T-too—too fast—ah…!”

Trapped in his embrace, Roseline flailed before clinging to his broad shoulders for support. Her nails dug into the raised ridges of his shoulder blades, the sharp pain melting into familiar pleasure that stoked her instincts.

“Nngh—ah, ah—!”

Even to her own ears, the sounds spilling from her lips were embarrassingly lewd, but there was no chance to stifle them. His c**k—thick enough to rival her forearm—plundered her depths with such force it stole her breath, and when he pulled out, the sudden emptiness left her shuddering.

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.

Unable to withstand the relentless pace, Roseline squeezed her eyes shut.

“Look at me.”

“Ah—hah…!”

Just as his voice roughened during intimacy, it was also Valen’s habit to demand her gaze—ensuring she couldn’t escape.

“Roseline. Eyes.”

His voice, edged with command, left no room for refusal. With effort, she pried her eyelids open. The man who was always so composed now loomed over her, breathing raggedly, his eyes dark with raw hunger as if he wanted to devour her whole.

“Hhk—!”

But her gaze alone wasn’t enough. He seized her swollen lips, biting down before invading her mouth with his tongue. Thick and relentless, it pushed deep enough to threaten her throat, just as the weapon between her legs continued its ruthless assault. He gave no quarter, above or below, even as she struggled to keep up. Squelch. Thrust. With every snap of his hips, the slick junction of their bodies frothed obscenely.

“Ngh—uhk…!”

Roseline’s body slid upward from the force, unable to bear his weight.

“Hah—”

Just before the back of her head hit the headboard, Valen adjusted his grip on her waist and yanked her back down. The swollen head of his c**k stabbed into her oversensitive walls, and Roseline’s fingers twisted in the sheets as a broken moan escaped. At the same time, her inner muscles clenched violently, forcing Valen to grit his teeth.

“Why squeeze so hard? I’d give it to you even if you didn’t milk me.”

His low, deliberate words—dripping with filthy praise—were far more humiliating than the wet sounds of their coupling. Roseline weakly thumped his arm in protest, but Valen only laughed soundlessly before catching her wrist. With a sharp tug, he hauled her upright, seating her directly onto his lap.

“Eh—?!”

Her coral eyes wavered, dizzy with the sudden shift, and she hastily wrapped her arms around his neck for balance. His brief moment of tenderness—patting her slender waist in approval—was short-lived. His tongue plunged into her ear as he gripped her hips, pistoning her up and down like a pestle grinding into mortar.