Tamed Monster - Chapter 115

As he gently wiped her tears and spoke to her in a coaxing voice, the fear filling her eyes shifted into something else.

‘What the hell is wrong with this lunatic?’

That was exactly the look she gave him.

Kuina snickered softly. As he laughed, the wound on his neck where the blade had once pierced him throbbed, a surge of irritation rising—only to melt away again at the sight of her blank, stunned expression. Deliberately, he rubbed his e******n against her abdomen.

“…Hk!”

“How about it? Think it’d feel good if I put it in right now?”

Judging by how she immediately began to tremble and choke back sobs again, she clearly would not.

“Go on. Cry.”

He coaxed her again. By now, she seemed to realize he wasn’t joking. She swallowed stiffly, her breathing uneven.

“Don’t hold it in. Let it out.”

Every time she thought he couldn’t possibly become more perverse, her monster of a husband shattered that belief. Overwhelmed, Sylvia finally broke into tears. Each time she parted her lips to breathe, sobs slipped out with the air, tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

“Ha…”

Slurp.

Once.

The moment she shed a fresh tear, he jerked his hips sharply upward—just once. Blood vessels bulged along his neck and the length of his shaft, and with a faint pop, the wound split open slightly again. Unaware of the blood trickling out, Kuinan growled at her once more.

“Don’t hold back.”

Bound and helpless beneath the monster’s carving gaze, Sylvia found herself crying no matter how hard she tried not to. When her second tear fell, he let out a strangled groan and thrust upward again.

“Hh—!”

On the verge of climax, he quickly pinched his u*****a shut with his thumb and pressed his body tightly against hers. He leaned in until their eyes were almost touching. Staring up at the monster looming over her, the fragile prey shed tear after tear.

Ah…

With a groan, he pumped himself several times in desperation, then spilled himself across her chest and stomach. The liquid splashed wildly, even striking her chin and the bridge of her nose before pooling and dripping like spilled water. Sylvia went completely blank.

“…Ah…?”

“Haaah… damn. I thought I was going to lose it.”

He wanted desperately to lick her face clean, to devour her—but knowing what he might do if he touched her again, he exercised extreme restraint, not laying a finger on her. His excited breath washed over her face, and she flinched belatedly, fingers and toes twitching.

The sheer amount of c*m was horrifying—utterly unreal.

And worse, he didn’t look finished.

If anything, he looked like he was just getting started, calmly preparing for another round. Sylvia was beyond disgusted. Did this man have nothing in his head but s*x? To behave like this toward someone who might as well be his mortal enemy—

Pathetic. Utterly pathetic. And far beyond the realm of anything resembling a tolerable pervert.

For countless reasons, Sylvia found herself hating this monster more than ever. Whatever small remnants of affection she had once harbored were instantly smothered by pure contempt.

At that moment, she made a firm vow.

‘I have to escape.’

Once she resolved her family matters—once she secured just enough money to survive on her own—she would risk her life if she had to, just to flee this monstrous grip. Even if it costs her life

* * *

Bloodshot blue eyes stared down the desolate, empty corridor.

The woman who possessed the same luminous blue eyes as the Grand Duke himself bore a name just as beautiful.

Rossa.

‘Those wretched demons… they finally devoured even my son.’

At some point she hadn’t even noticed, but after her daughter‑in‑law, her son too had fallen under a monster’s spell. The first to be infected must have been the daughter‑in‑law—she was certain of it.

Then, that woman must have passed the corruption on to her son. Overcome by grief, Rossa had shut herself away for days, sobbing and refusing food or water. Only today had she barely managed to regain her senses.

“You understand now, Mother, don’t you? The one you should fear isn’t my wife—it’s me. So don’t go getting any ideas.”

Her son had confessed with a smile that he was the violent intruder who had broken her wrist that night. His eyes burned with fury, as if her sincere warning to drive Sylvia away had offended him beyond endurance.

She had been mistaken.

Her son hadn’t merely been bewitched by a woman who served demons—he himself had become something even worse than that woman.