Chapter 23
Sylaria’s slight body yielded without resistance to Euclid’s touch. The moment she settled astride his firm thigh, a large hand seized her delicate chin.
He closed the distance until their breaths mingled, his lips parting as if to kiss her at once.
“Please, give yourself to me.”
At the yearning whisper heavy with desire, Sylaria felt her lower belly clench. She lifted the corners of her mouth and draped her arms over his broad shoulders.
Watching the man before her, thirsting with hungry eyes, she was filled with euphoria.
Being with him made her feel like some legendary temptress. These were actions she’d never imagined herself taking now came naturally.
In her past life, Arendtert had called Sylaria a dull woman, half-mocking her name. He’d even complained that she couldn’t excite him when their bodies met, so he’d grown bored.
When she’d learned of his affair with Grizelle, even for a split second she’d wondered if it was her fault, if she’d failed to satisfy him. She must have been the one to drive his body and heart to another woman.
But now, seeing Euclid burning with passion before her, she realized how baseless Arendtert’s accusations had been.
“If you want me, then take me.”
At Sylaria’s invitation, a low rumble escaped Euclid’s throat. He ground his teeth and gripped her hips.
Then, as something hot pressed between her legs, Euclid’s thick tongue plunged into her mouth.
His warm, slick tongue tangled with hers. As they drew each other close, the heat transferred through their soaked, clinging clothes.
And in that moment.
“Aannngh…!”
Euclid moved his hips, thrusting upward from below as though he were inserting his arousal into Sylaria.
With each movement, the thick shaft brushed between her thighs, and she grew wet.
“Ah… ahh!”
“Haa, Sy—laria…!”
Calling her name in fervent gasps, Euclid kissed her wildly, pulling down the wet fabric stuck to her white nape and pressing his lips to her bare skin, his tongue exploring.
His aroused groans, the slapping and splashing of water, the friction of fabric… All were intoxicating.
As their bodies pressed together and Euclid’s thrusts grew faster, the veins in his long neck stood out.
“Haa, damn…”
Stalwart beneath her, Euclid seized Sylaria’s thigh and, with a fierce tug, ripped away the skirt clinging to her pale flesh.
“Euclid…!”
“I’ll buy you more clothes. Whatever you need.”
His hand delved between Sylaria’s thigh and the garment. Searching for where her leg began, his fingers found the red folds of her skin.
“So next time you see me, don’t wear these damned undergarments.”
“Mmph, haa… yes!”
Sylaria tried to protest but a soft moan escaped her. His finger had slipped into her wet entrance.
Euclid pressed his finger into her inner wall as if it were his shaft, moving with his hips.
His long finger slid through her narrow passages, then scraped along her inner walls in repeated strokes.
Each time he plunged in, Sylaria’s legs instinctively spread, her toes curling.
“Aah, haa, uh… yes…!”
“Haa, keugh!”
Euclid’s cool, rational facade melted. His neck and ears glowed crimson.
He pulled Sylaria’s thighs wide, pressing his fully e***t manhood against her, while his finger continued tormenting her.
As his movements grew more urgent and Sylaria’s moans rose, she felt her climax building.
And then it came.
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