Chapter 226
“That’s not it! Think about it—if our roles were reversed, Rikanan, you’d feel weird too!”
“I wouldn’t mind. I’d kiss you right now.”
His tone implied it was no big deal.
Jaha wondered if she was the odd one.
Am I the strange one here? Even someone with such noble and dignified looks treats this so casually—am I being too uptight?
Lost in her thoughts, she felt something heavy press between her thighs. With one hand gripping the base, he dragged the tip of his c**k slowly along her slit, teasing her entrance. Then—click—he pressed down on her c**t, rubbing it up and down.
A reflexive whimper escaped Jaha as she bit her lip. The sensitive bud, trapped beneath the thick, velvety head, was kneaded and rolled until her already overheated body burned anew. She could feel herself growing slick, wetness trickling out.
It wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t this sensitive before.
He’s the one who conditioned me.
Over and over, he’d brought her to the edge, made her body memorize pleasure, taught it to crave—no, addict itself to it. He’d molded her into a body that reveled in every touch.
The shame hadn’t completely vanished, though. Every time like this, resentment bubbled up inside her. Without realizing it, she shot him a glare—but he caught her gaze and flashed a shameless grin. Infuriating. And yet, even that audacity felt good.
“Let’s move to the bed…”
They’d done it everywhere—not just the desk she was currently sprawled on, but likely every conceivable surface. Still, the bed was best. Comfortable. No bruises.
“Alright.”
The moment she relaxed at his easy agreement, the thick head grinding against her c**t suddenly slid downward and pressed firmly against her entrance—then pushed in.
“Ngh—! I said—ah—to the bed—!”
“We’re going.”
He buried himself to the hilt, then lifted her effortlessly. The sheer size of him, already overwhelming, sank even deeper under their combined weight, forcing a choked moan from Jaha as she clung to him. But that was just the beginning.
With every step he took, that monstrous pillar of flesh churned inside her, carving into places it had no right to reach.
“Ah—no! Too d-deep—!”
She trembled, terrified. It felt like he was violating places he shouldn’t—like something might break.
“You say that, but your body loves it.”
It wasn’t a lie. Her insides clenched tight, and slickness gushed where they were joined.
The fear was real—but so was the pleasure, drowning it. If that was the case, all he had to do was reassure her.
“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”
“Hih—! S-Stop—! Nghh—!”
Before Jaha could retort, he closed the distance to the bed in long strides. She expected him to lay her down, but instead, he sat on the edge and immediately lifted her lower half. Nestled against his hips, her body slid up and down on its own, rocking rhythmically as if riding the waves.
“Hah, ngh—”
The mattress swayed under their combined weight. His large hands gripped each side of her hips as he rolled them in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation of his monstrous c**k stirring her insides was unbearable.
With an animalistic cry, Jaha clung to him mindlessly. The warmth of their pressed-together bodies made her inexplicably tear up.
This warmth—this man—is mine.
And I am his.
Suddenly, his firm grip on her hips tightened, and a thrilling shiver ran through her. Holding her trembling, pleasure-wracked body, he continued thrusting ruthlessly, grinding against her oversensitive walls until Jaha whimpered under the overwhelming pleasure.
When her gaze flickered up, she saw him staring down at her—not with human eyes, but with the predatory gaze of a beast.
Obsessive. Perverse.
He loved watching her writhe in ecstasy. So much so that he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied, driving her over the edge again and again—prioritizing her pleasure over his own.
Maybe it wasn’t just preference. Maybe there was something compulsive in it—the need to confirm that she truly enjoyed it, that she was his.
“Ngh—ahh!”
Jaha’s vision whited out as another climax tore through her. Even the flood of c*m filling her was overstimulating—so much that her stomach felt full. Excess spilled from where they were joined, dripping shamelessly.
He watched her twitching body with dark satisfaction before noticing his own neglected arousal, still straining insistently against his clothes.
Pushing the fabric aside, he freed himself, and her swollen n*****s peeked out, flushed and trembling.
A twisted urge coiled in his gut—to mark them, to stain those pretty peaks a lewd, darkened shade until they were unmistakably his. To shape her body into something so shamelessly debauched that no one else could even think of touching her.
The same for below—to stretch and ruin her until she could never tighten for anyone else. Until the very idea of spreading for another man would mortify her.
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