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Chapter 146

  1. Home
  2. The Dialectic of Master and Slave
  3. Chapter 146 - X.
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Volumes 1-4 + Side Stories of DMS are available uncensored on ko-fi!
    ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

X.

Jaha was never particularly skilled at lying or acting.

As a child, she naively thought she was decent at it—but as an adult, she realized the world was full of professionals who could steal the nose off someone’s face without blinking. Compared to them, she was painfully average.

Far from being able to deceive others, she was just barely competent enough to avoid being scammed herself. Still, she had mustered the bare minimum of composure needed to function in society.

And that was precisely why, after the incident, she could sit across from Rikanan at the same table, pretending nothing was wrong. Her insides were a tangled mess, but as long as she kept her expression blank, it was fine—wasn’t it?

“Jaha, have I done something to offend you?”

Tea nearly shot out of her nose.

“No? Why would you ask that?”

“You’ve seemed uncomfortable around me for the past few days.”

He’d seen right through her—down to the exact timing. Any attempt to deny it would be pitiful.

Sweating bullets, Jaha fought to keep her smile in place. It felt like being hit with a confirmation kill.

Wow, I really am terrible at this. Or maybe this man’s perception is just inhuman. Possibly both.

“If I’ve made a mistake, please tell me. I can’t correct it otherwise.”

The sincerity in Rikanan’s tone turned Jaha’s mind blank.

How the hell am I supposed to say this outright…? That I overheard you moaning my name while jerking off and now I’m awkward about it?

“It’s nothing like that.”

Right. It wasn’t a mistake, anyway. Whoever he imagined during his private time was his own business. Even an absolute dictator couldn’t police people’s thoughts.

Technically speaking, Jaha was the one who’d made the mistake. Her intentions might not have been bad, but the result was still an invasion of privacy. If she hadn’t overstepped and accidentally opened Pandora’s box, there would’ve been no awkwardness between them now.

“This is just my own issue.”

“That makes it even harder. There’s nothing I can do to fix it—I just have to wait.”

Rikanan crossed his arms, briefly thoughtful, then met her eyes with a smile.

“I’d like for us to get along again as soon as possible.”

Jaha averted her gaze from those jewel-like blue eyes. It wasn’t an exaggeration—she genuinely couldn’t look directly at him.

The memory of his flexing back muscles, the shuddering bed, those unbearably low moans—even now, seeing him buttoned up to the neck and gloved, barely an inch of skin exposed, made her face burn.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know anytime.”

All Jaha could muster in response to his kindly offered words was a stiff “Okay.”

After tea ended, Rikanan escorted her back to her room as usual. The moment she sat down in her chair, she grabbed her hair in frustration.

“I’d like for us to get along again as soon as possible.”

Was it her own impure mind that made those words sound suggestive? Or was it because what she’d witnessed kept dragging her thoughts in that direction?

“Get along. Get along.”

It wasn’t a bad thing. Stranded in this world with nothing, what harm was there in being on good terms with someone powerful? The real question was how good those terms were. If Rikanan’s idea of “getting along” meant that kind of relationship…

Jaha thunked her head against the table.

Rikanan was undeniably attractive—but she’d never considered him in a s****l light. For one, he was literally from another world. And, well… it felt unthinkable.

It was one thing to joke about buying a nice painting someday when you had money, but no one actually believed they could own the Mona Lisa. To Jaha, Rikanan was like that: hanbok rice cakes out of reach, flowers on a cliffside, a masterpiece owned by someone else, a cultural relic to be admired from afar.

“But why would that ‘cultural relic’ be into me?”

She couldn’t even finish the thought aloud. It was too absurd. Too unreal.

Maybe this is all a dream?

“I’m not so young that I’d confuse dreams and reality.”

Slapping the table twice, Jaha splashed cold water on her face.

She wasn’t disgusted—not at all. But she wasn’t thrilled either. Just… flustered.

Even she didn’t understand herself. She’d assumed that if a man like that showed interest, she’d feel pressured yet secretly smug, her heart racing. But faced with the reality, it wasn’t like that. Something felt off, her chest tight—even as her body stubbornly disagreed.

Jaha’s hand drifted downward. She hitched her long skirt above her knees, fingers slipping cautiously between her thighs.

Rubbing lightly over her underwear, a faint pleasure stirred. Clenching her lower belly and hips, she pressed harder.

“Nn, ah…”

The memory of Rikanan humping the bed sent a thrill through her.

Those relentless muscles, that beast-like thrusting, the groan that made every hair on her body stand on end—

No video she’d ever seen compared. It was maddeningly arousing.

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    Aristocracy, Different Social Status, European Ambience, Fantasy World, Female Protagonist, Handsome ML, Obsessive Love, Possessiveness, R19, Transmigration

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