The Nymph Wants to be Plundered - Chapter 55

The reason he couldn’t reveal to the world that he was an Ancient Guardian ultimately stemmed largely from his concern for her. Sure, even if the gazes directed at him were to shift from awe to mockery, pure malice, or burning greed, he would willingly endure it—but Evelyn wouldn’t.

Even now, as she turned her back to him, he could vividly picture it—those timid eyes of hers, utterly defeated. He hated seeing it. Growing impatient, he could hold back no longer and blurted out.

“You’re done, right?”

“Huh? Ah—!”

Asking her verbally would only elicit an “I’m fine” anyway. So, he figured he might as well do as he pleased. This situation was entirely her fault to begin with. Unable to resist the surging impulse, his damp lips pushed past her ice-cold ones and parted them.

The inside of her mouth was warm. Whether it was because he had been generously sharing his energy with her regularly, a pleasant heat radiated from her—but this alone wasn’t enough. Cassis imagined her hair fluttering if she were to run (though he’d never actually seen it), pressed his lips harder to open her mouth further, and lightly bit her soft tongue.

“Hng…!”

Evelyn, suddenly reduced to being devoured by him, flailed helplessly. She had a rough idea of what would happen if this continued, so she felt a creeping fear—yet at the same time, her body went slack, leaving her unable to move. Even so, her skin tingled all over, driving her to the brink of madness.

Her intimate moments with Cassis had been sporadic until now. The first time, she had mistakenly thought it would only be the tip—but she soon endured nights where she had to take all of his terrifying length, struggling through more than a few such exhausting evenings. She still hadn’t gotten used to it. And the blood she hadn’t even known was there… she had seen it.

His firm arm wrapped around her body, still cloaked in the damp towel, holding her snugly. It looked as though he was outright trying to kidnap her somewhere, embracing her so boldly. The delicate skin trapped against the meticulously woven towel, pressed against his arm, created a strange, friction-filled sensation that made Evelyn squeeze her eyes shut. In truth, she had closed them the moment his lips touched hers—but now, she had to shut them even tighter, her brow furrowing.

What did it mean to endure? At the very least, it must refer to a difficult situation—one she could neither overcome nor push away.

Whenever she shared the same space with him, whenever their eyes met, whenever the atmosphere grew as dangerously tense as it had during her bath earlier… it was always her who faltered first. He never yielded to her. During the day, he was gentle, but at night, he would push relentlessly—and lately, the boundary between morning, noon, and night had begun to blur. Cassis always sought dominance over Evelyn, or at least confirmation of it. Just like now.

“Ha, ah. Ah…”

Pained breaths rushed in and out between her barely closed lips. The man who had captured her tongue rolled it boldly, as if it didn’t tickle at all. He stripped away the towel that half-heartedly covered her nakedness, tossing it to the floor, then lifted both her legs and wrapped them around his waist in a lewd embrace.

From the white uniform left damp instead of dried, the fierce sound of dripping water echoed—plop, plop—like the noise of rain.

That sound… like rain. Evelyn’s mind spun again.

On days when it rained in Jupiter Castle, Cassis would ride his horse around the perimeter, he once told her. She remembered him saying offhandedly that it was less a king’s duty and more a knight’s instinct. He checked for cracks in the fortress walls, signs of sinking ground, and plants suffering from too much water. Just as he tended to her tree.

Love me like that too.

‘Ca…ssis!’

Without realizing it, whenever she thought of him now, it was no longer the formal Lord Cassis that circled in her mind, but just his name—three simple syllables.

Evelyn’s skin had grown slightly paler lately. There was one obvious reason she saw less sunlight. Still, she wasn’t as fair as Cassis, the elf, but the delicate pallor that now clung to her was entirely his fault.

Whenever he had the chance, he would pull her into his arms, roll her into bed, and when exhaustion took over, he would wipe her down and let her sleep—only to return before she could even stir, wake her, feed her just enough to keep her going, and then take her all over again. There was no energy left to wander outside. What Ruba had clucked her tongue at, calling their dissolute lifestyle, had become a near-daily occurrence.

Evelyn’s upper body and arms, braced against him with her legs, held only a feeble amount of strength—too accustomed to being overpowered. As her body tilted precariously, balance slipping away, she let out a pitiful whimper.

“N-Not here… I don’t—ah—I’m scared… Hng…”

“Hold onto me.”

His reply was indifferent, as if her struggles were meaningless, his soaked uniform hanging heavily off him with no regard for comfort.

It wasn’t as if they’d never had s*x while still wet from the bath before. But unlike those times, Cassis seemed determined to take her right here, right now. The moment she realized it, a dull ache pulsed through her heels, though they weren’t even touching anything.

It was always like this. The moment her bare thighs were forced flush against him, no room to escape, the moment she took that monstrous length inside—she felt utterly conquered. And once he started moving his hips, everything from the soaked cleft between her legs to the deepest parts of her, all the way up to her throat, would tingle unbearably.

In those moments, Evelyn became completely helpless. Every part of her body felt unfamiliar, no longer her own. The sounds that spilled from her throat had nothing to do with her will—they existed separately, beyond her control. So it was no surprise that, not long after he began, she would turn into a trembling mess, unable to move. There were countless days she couldn’t even remember what she had said, what she had done, or how any of it had happened.

The next morning, waking alone in the tangled sheets, all she could do was gauge the intensity of the night before by how sore her body was—how heavy her limbs felt, how every muscle ached with a dull, throbbing reminder.