Chapter 103
Suddenly, something burst in her mouth. Fay pulled back, spitting out his member.
“Ah.”
Too late to avoid it, she should have just kept him inside.
The thick liquid splattered across her face. His potent taste lingered in her mouth. Unable to spit or swallow, she sat up and glared at Alnazir.
His face wasn’t exactly clean either, coated with her fluids. Looking thoroughly satisfied, he licked her essence from his lips.
“That’s why I called you.”
The infuriating response was just the icing on the cake.
Fay watched helplessly as he gathered more from her cheeks and nose with his fingers, then deliberately licked them clean—as if putting on a show just to embarrass her. She wanted to slap his hand away and tell him to stop.
Instead, she took a deep breath, composed herself, and sat facing him squarely, her hips settling on his abdomen.
“Do you still want me to let you in?”
A sly question, designed to test him, even though she already knew the answer. Forced to swallow what remained in her mouth just to speak.
As expected, Alnazir nodded eagerly. The playful curve of his lips vanished, replaced by earnest longing.
“Let me in.”
Fay acted reluctantly, maintaining her aloof expression as she gripped him again. Wiping away the remaining fluid carelessly, she guided him to her entrance.
Even lowering herself slowly, the pressure felt like splitting her body in two. But she didn’t stop. Thanks to his thorough preparation, her inner walls had softened enough to accommodate him. And more than anything, she burned with the need to have him inside.
Breathing shallowly, she sank down further.
When she reached her limit, she paused, lowering her gaze from the ceiling to finally meet his eyes. His face was twisted in apparent agony.
“Does it hurt?”
Am I too tight after so long? Worried, she asked. Alnazir breathed heavily through his nose once, twice, before managing to speak.
“I’m fine.”
“But…”
“Keep going.”
The pained twitch at the corner of his mouth was barely concealed by an attempt at a smile. He forced an awkward laugh, gripping the table edge tightly.
Would the tabletop break if he keeps doing this?
The stone surface was solid, carved from rock—yet she couldn’t shake her unease. She couldn’t see what was happening to his palms, but fragments kept crumbling to the kitchen floor.
“If you need something to hold, hold my hand.”
Fay reached back, pried his hand from the table, and guided it to hers.
His reaction was strange. An unreadable expression flickered across his face as he watched her, lips parting soundlessly.
“Don’t. Better to tie me up with rope, make it so I can’t move at all.”
“So rope would actually restrain you, Lord Al?”
Fay had gathered the courage to offer her hand and his rejection stung. He’d begged so desperately for her touch, and now he seemed displeased to receive it.
“This foolish witch has learned not to underestimate the great ruler Lord Al.”
Her cold retort finally drew a clearly flustered reaction.
“I mean, don’t let me touch you at all. These half-measures… I can’t endure them.”
Even now, desire and reason clashed violently within him. The furrow between his brows showed his effort of suppressing his urges, lest they overpower him completely.
Fay made a small sound of surprise, then pried open his fist and intertwined their palms. She understood his internal struggle, but she had no intention of going easy on him.
“You shouldn’t grip so hard.”
She felt him carefully avoiding any pressure, afraid of hurting her. Teasing him further, she pressed a kiss to his knuckles.
Please! Though no sound escaped, his face practically screamed.
She knew provoking him was dangerous, he might snap and do something reckless. Fully aware of the risk, she still couldn’t stop. The thrill of conquest, watching this powerful man squirm helplessly beneath her, was too sweet to abandon.
“Calling me a great ruler while you toy with me like this, that’s deception, Fay.”
He couldn’t move a single muscle as he wished. Stripped of freedom, yet still addressed as ‘great ruler’? If this wasn’t mockery, what was?
She knew he wouldn’t release her hand. That he’d hold on like a fool, afraid of hurting her if he gripped too hard, afraid she’d slip away if he held too loosely. This was exactly what she wanted to see.
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