The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 170

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.

With some clarity returning, Jaha studied his hands more intently. Gloves—on a naked body. She hadn’t expected him to keep them on even in bed. Most lovers would’ve shed them by now, if only to feel each other’s warmth.

‘Just what kind of secret is hidden under there…?’

“Do you need anything else?”

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Nn… No. Just tired. Want to rest.”

“I see.”

He pulled Jaha into his arms and lay back on the bed. His gloved hand gently stroked her hair, caressed her cheek. Each brush of smooth silk against her skin lulled her deeper into a pleasant haze.

None of this felt real.

Perhaps it was because the face before her was terrifyingly beautiful—

The elegant slope of his nose, the dark arch of his brows, the flawless skin, the golden hair that seemed spun from molten sunlight.

Is this man even human? Did someone like me really just… with someone like him…?

“Are you alright now?”

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, he asked with tender concern.

Dazed, Jaha nodded weakly. Earlier, she’d felt like she might die—but now, after resting, she thought she might survive. His jewel-like blue eyes crinkled softly in response.

“Good. I don’t think I could’ve held back much longer.”

Just as she was about to ask what he meant—she felt something ominous pressing insistently against her lower belly and let out a strangled gasp. In a way completely unrelated to his impossible beauty, this, too, felt unreal.

Watching Jaha shiver uncontrollably, he murmured gently,

“If it’s too much, just stay still, Jaha.”

◇ ◆ ◇

Ever since that day, the two of them barely needed to exchange a glance before ending up entangled. Sometimes they’d do it during the day, only to find themselves back in bed by night.

Jaha wasn’t without her own desires, but Rikanan was usually the instigator. Despite his aristocratic appearance, his lower half was downright beastly—utterly devoid of restraint or satisfaction.

Not that she disliked it. If she had, she would’ve refused outright. But that didn’t make it any less overwhelming. Their stamina was simply on different levels. Logically, he should’ve been the one expending more energy, yet it was always Jaha who ended up completely spent.

The man seemed immune to exhaustion. When she complained about being worn out, he’d stare at her with the disappointed eyes of a predator denied its meal, looking genuinely baffled. It made her want to ask, Where the hell did you sell your conscience?

It wasn’t as if she’d been frail in her original world—she’d lived a normal, healthy life as an adult woman with no chronic illnesses.

The reason she was always reduced to a wreck? Him. His relentlessness. He’d take her anytime, anywhere, and never settled for just once.

“Nngh—hah! S-Stop…!”

Jaha’s fingers tightened in the fabric of her skirt. He’d seated her on the table and was now devouring her with his mouth, sucking greedily between her thighs.

His tongue worked like it was melting candy, licking without pause until her hips turned to liquid. When she sobbed and squirmed, he tsked playfully before sealing his lips around her c**t and sucking hard.

“Hyaa—ah, ah!”

The obscenely wet sounds made her ears burn with shame—but the embarrassment was short-lived. As his tongue swirled and teased, her thighs trembled violently, pleasure spiking to unbearable heights. Her legs, unmoored in the air, jerked with helpless spasms.

It’s coming— The coiled heat was about to snap.

Bracing for the full-body tremor, Jaha squeezed her eyes shut—then her back arched as release crashed over her like a detonation.

The moment hot fluid gushed out, he drank it down eagerly, as if he’d been waiting. Then his tongue pushed inside, scouring every fold to lap up even the slightest trace.

The gluttonous act—like he refused to waste a single drop—made her core burn anew, and soon her thighs were slick all over again.

“If you keep getting wet every time I clean you up, we’ll never finish, Jaha.”

His chiding was affectionate. Humiliation shot straight to her scalp, her face flushing crimson.

“Y-You’re the one licking like—!”

“I’ll stop if you stop dripping.”

You shameless—picking only the most sensitive spots…

Despite his brazen attitude, he only targeted her weakest points. With a sly smile, he lowered his head again. Warm breath brushed against her spread folds before his thick tongue delved in, relentless.

Burying his high, straight nose against her, he licked and sucked at what couldn’t possibly taste good. Once, when she’d asked what it even tasted like, he’d replied, “Like desire.” After that, she gave up trying to understand him.

Her already overheated body was quickly engulfed in pleasure again. Jaha shuddered, half-sobbing—it felt too good, so much it bordered on agony. The forced highs were electrifying yet torturous, making her want to escape even as she craved more.

“Haaah—!”

Her back arched violently as a precarious, razor-thin climax tore through her. He pressed a few teasing kisses to her trembling flesh before finally pulling away.

Slumped bonelessly, Jaha gasped for air. She’d come, but it wasn’t enough. The emptiness inside ached—some deep, itching place that needed to be scraped raw by something hot, hard, and thick.