Chapter 178
Panic seized her, and she nearly screamed—but then his head tilted slightly, the angle shifting, and there they were again: his usual blue eyes.
Was it a trick of the light? Or her mind playing tricks?
As Jaha trembled in confusion, he reached out.
“Hand here, Jaha.”
His voice was tight, but it wasn’t an order. If anything, it bordered on pleading. Hypnotized, she extended her hand.
He stopped thrusting between her thighs and instead pressed himself into her palm. Unsure what to do, she hesitated—until he covered her hand with his own, forcing her fingers to wrap around his angry, throbbing length.
“Ah…”
Startled by the heat against his skin, Jaha flinched. Even with one hand, she couldn’t fully grasp his girth—and the way it pulsed under her touch made her breath hitch.
“Use both hands.”
Swallowing dryly, she obeyed, gripping him with both palms. Up close, the sheer size was staggering. Veins (or were they tendons?) bulged along the shaft, making the already intimidating flesh even more daunting.
She could guess what he wanted. He’s asking me to finish him by hand.
She knew the basics—up and down, right? But she’d never actually done it before. Past lovers had never needed her like this, never stayed hard so relentlessly that she’d collapse before satisfying them.
How much pressure should I use?
If I grip too tight, it’ll probably hurt.
Unsure of the right pressure, she hesitated—until he let out a faint laugh.
“You’re still clumsy with your hands, huh?”
A strange feeling prickled at her. There was an undertone, as if he’d expected her to be inexperienced. Or maybe he was just teasing her, implying that despite all their time in bed, there were still things she hadn’t mastered…
“Like this—tighten your grip and move up and down quickly.”
He covered her hands with his larger ones, guiding her motions. At the same time, an inexplicable sense of déjà vu shot through Jaha’s mind.
A lavishly decorated room. A man sitting arrogantly, as if he owned the world.
A wine bottle resting on the table.
“That’s not how you do it. Like this—grip tightly and stroke quickly.”
“Hhk—!”
The moment Jaha let out a choked gasp, his c**k pulsed violently, and thick white fluid surged forth.
Mistaking her reaction for surprise at his release, he dismissed it casually. But for Jaha, it was different.
A blurred face, as if deliberately smudged. The only recognizable details were colors.
Vivid blond hair and violet eyes—so distinct she’d recognize them even in darkness.
‘What… is this image?’
A cold sweat trickled down her spine. That dazzlingly opulent room—she had never been anywhere like that in her life. Had she imagined it?
‘No.’
It was too detailed. The intricate patterns of the tapestries, the precise cut of the man’s clothing, even the air in that room—all of it crystal clear. Jaha wasn’t the type to have such vivid imagination.
The result of piecing together fragments from here and there was bound to be crude and blurry—like watching a video in 144p. But the scene that had just flashed through her mind was in 1080p, no, 8K. It was beyond Jaha’s ability to fabricate.
Which meant one thing: At some point, somewhere, these eyes had seen that moment for real.
‘It didn’t look like Earth.’
A massive, intricately handwoven tapestry. Ceilings that stretched beyond sight. Opulent, archaic attire that didn’t belong in the 21st century.
The setting itself resembled a royal palace somewhere between medieval and early modern eras. Closer to this world than Earth in countless ways…
‘But I’ve never even been near a palace here, let alone inside one.’
When she first woke up, it was in a forest. Then she was dragged off by soldiers to what she assumed was some official’s residence before immediately following Rikanan. She’d had no chance to go anywhere else.
‘Unless… I was originally summoned to the palace, subjected to some experiment, had my memories wiped, and then dumped in the forest?’
Having once been an avid fantasy novel reader, her mind instantly spun conspiracy theories.
If that were the case, it would explain her instinctive aversion to the Emperor—whom she’d never met—and those purple eyes…
A soft laugh escaped her.
‘Yeah, right.’
As if something so novelistic would happen to me.
“What’s on your mind, Jaha?”
The low, restrained voice pulled her back to reality.
“Ah, nothing important. Just zoned out for a second.”
She dodged the question, unwilling to explain every little thought. Even as lovers, they weren’t obligated to share everything. Besides, he was the same.
The gloves he never removes, not even in bed.
Jaha didn’t resent his airtight secrecy. If anything, as someone hiding her own truth—of being from another world—it was a relief.
Since he doesn’t reveal everything either, he won’t pry too deeply into me. The world runs on give-and-take, after all.
As she met his gaze with that unspoken boundary drawn, his expression shifted slightly. A conflicted look, as if he wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t.
Pretending not to notice, Jaha turned her back on him and stepped out of bed. Though drained, she felt an inexplicable urge to move.
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