Chapter 148
Finally, Sylvia stretched out her cramped legs and shook her head.
“Hnngh. Yes, it hurts. So please…”
Her hair was tugged lightly, twice. Tug, tug. A silent invitation to turn and face him. She did, reflexively and gasped.
Ah.
Not because he looked hideous, like before. The opposite.
He wasn’t ugly. No, he was undeniably handsome. Terrifying, yes, with those sharp, piercing eyes and that wide, slashed mouth that seemed too large for his face. The teeth revealed between those lips looked sharp enough to tear raw flesh.
But taken as a whole? He didn’t seem so different from human. So a monster can be handsome while still looking like a monster.
Sylvia absorbed this novel realization—one no human woman had likely ever made. The hand gripping him slowly rose from where she’d been holding his wrist. Pure curiosity made her trace the back of her fingers along his cheek.
He rumbled a satisfied groan.
“Haah… My wife. So you can be affectionate after all.”
To be clear, she was merely curious. About the texture of a swamp monster’s actual skin.
Smoother than expected. She’d imagined it would be slimy from constant moisture, but it wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, it felt supple, like a cheek freshly moisturized. Fascinated, she touched his face, momentarily forgetting her situation.
Forgot that she was suspended awkwardly with her hips in the air, impaled to the hilt by his length.
The moment he moved even a fraction, she gasped, her eyes snapping back.
Push. He drove deeper.
The hand resting against his cheek fell away, and her upper body collapsed forward. The tub’s edge caught her, saving her from an undignified sprawl. But the impact doubled her discomfort. Already buried to the root, his c**k pressed even harder against her depths.
“Aagh! It hurts—ah! Lancart…!”
She knew that wasn’t his real name, but it was the only name he’d carried around for the past year. She screamed it anyway.
The distasteful alias clearly grated on him. Even as he thrust urgently, pounding into her, he corrected her. Finally, the moment he revealed his true name.
“Call me Kuinan.”
His breath turned ragged, not from exertion from what it looks like. A faint flush rose on his pale, strangely familiar face.
Even having heard his name clearly, Sylvia didn’t speak it. It felt too intimate. They weren’t lovers. There was no need to whisper his secret true name while tangled together like this. Doing so would make it feel real. Make it feel like something more.
“Woman. Call my name.”
When she stubbornly kept her mouth shut, he used the address she hated most, poking and prodding at her nerves like torture. He whispered every obscenity imaginable into her ear, determined to keep going until she finally spoke his name.
The moment she did, his first release began.
“Haah… ah.”
“Nngh…! Ahh—ah—stop…!”
Even when she came to him willingly, clear-headed and wanting, it always ended like this—her regretting it, utterly undone. She thrashed with all her strength, but one arm was enough to pin her completely.
She’d gained strength rivaling a healthy man’s, but against Kuinan, it meant nothing.
“Ah… good. Nineteen more to go…”
He’d apparently planned it out. Twenty releases. Then he’d let her go. Which meant until then, she was his.
Thud. Something shifted inside her depths. She felt it, a pointed protrusion beginning to form.
“Ahh! Don’t rub—ah! Kuinan, please—nngh!”
He dragged her sobbing form from the tub to the bed and immediately began their second coupling.
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