WBWB | Chapter 40

His desire to bury himself within her overwhelmed him after he’d covered her delicate skin with a flurry of bite marks. He pulled her legs together and pressed them against her stomach. He lowered himself onto her, his gaze devouring her.

Seeing her eyes flicker with fear and a flicker of anticipation, he slowly pushed inside. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, a moan escaping her lips. 

Warm, wet flesh clung to him. 

He gritted his teeth.

And he moved. Wanting to savor this feeling for as long as possible. But the moment her arms wrapped around his neck, all reason fled. He lost himself in the frenzy, not caring if he might break her, driving towards the peak.

How long did he plunge into her depths? 

The woman, who had wrapped her arms around his neck, thrashed like a drowning person, leaving scratches on his back and shoulders. She sobbed, begging him to stop, that she couldn’t take it anymore, that she was going to die… She even bit his shoulder.

But he felt no pain. The pleasure that flooded his senses was far more intense, absolute. He moved his hips, thrusting deeper and deeper inside her, experiencing a violent pleasure he had never known before.

With each thrust, her insides clenched and spasmed. Each time he withdrew, they tightened around him, as if reluctant to let him go. He knew she had reached her peak several times, her body trembling like a wingless insect, her mouth open in a silent scream, but he couldn’t stop.

Even after he reached his own climax, his desire remained unquenched. It was the backlash of long-suppressed desires. As his body collapsed onto hers, her strength drained away. She must have thought it was finally over.

But for him, it was just the beginning. He pulled out and turned her over, holding her waist. He buried his face in her sweat-dampened shoulder, her hair disheveled, and began his second assault.

As he pushed inside again, her body yielded to him, soft and compliant. Everything was blissful, almost too good to be true.

He woke up gasping, his heart pounding. Even with his eyes open, he couldn’t distinguish between dream and reality for a long time.

His consciousness slowly returned, not to the world of dreams, but to the darkness of his bedroom. Fully awake, he slowly sat up and pulled back the covers.

He didn’t need to look or touch to know. He could feel the dampness in his trousers. As he climaxed inside her repeatedly in his dream, he had also climaxed in reality.

“…”

He remained frozen for a long time, dumbfounded.

‘Huh…’

He wasn’t a boy anymore.

But a man’s body naturally released its buildup, and since his first wet dream, he had taken care of it himself regularly. But that didn’t mean he was ignorant about women. 

After he became the heir in place of his brother, his parents had sent several “instructors” to his bedroom. It was a precautionary measure to educate him about the opposite sex and prevent any mishaps due to ignorance.

He had initially resisted, but he gave up after hearing, “His Grace has sent me to you, young master.” But he had never actively sought out women after that. Even during self-pleasure, he rarely fantasized. He simply relieved himself whenever his body demanded it.

‘But lately…’

As he grasped his hardened member, he couldn’t help but picture her. The curve of her ear, the nape of her neck, the soft skin exposed by the low neckline of her dress, her sparkling eyes, her straight nose, her lips.

He had been deliberately avoiding it, not out of guilt, but out of an instinctive sense of danger.

‘I feel like I’ll want everything. If I go any further, I’ll lose not only my judgment but also my control.’

He didn’t want to end up like his father or brother.

But now she was appearing even in his dreams, vividly. He ran a hand over his face.

The dream was clear. 

He wanted her desperately, both body and soul. Conversations and dinners weren’t enough anymore. If he didn’t find a way to quench this thirst, he would eventually do something even more reckless than in his dreams.

In the darkness, he felt himself reaching his limit.

* * *

The initially awkward and uncomfortable conversations with the Duke gradually became easier, the tension easing.

Truthfully, I had been starving. 

Starving for intellectual conversation with an adult. Of course, I had Lady Ana, but she was still a child, despite being sweet and lovely. And surprisingly, truly surprisingly, the Duke was a decent person to talk to. He listened attentively and shared his own stories.

‘Perhaps he also needed someone to talk to?’

The conversations, initially filled with awkward silences, became more natural, and I became comfortable sharing even trivial details about my life; my childhood, my parents, my brother, my grandparents.

He would occasionally share his own stories, as if trusting me with them.

‘Well, I can’t exactly spread his stories around. Perhaps I’m the perfect conversational partner.’

Although we were both nobles, our lives were worlds apart. He had endured a loveless, austere childhood, and the brother he had been close to had left the mansion for reasons unknown after coming of age. He had been alone ever since, without a wife or even a mistress.

‘Is he content with this life?’

The more I learned about him, the more curious I became. And at the same time, I wondered if he intended to continue living like this.

‘Without any social interaction, without a wife or children, spending his summers at war, his winters reading, and the rest of his time working? Is that even possible? Does he truly find it enjoyable and fulfilling?’

My curiosity grew so strong that I even asked him directly once.

“Your Grace… are you content with your current life?”

“What do you mean?”

“This mansion is very large, comparable to the royal palace. His Majesty filled the palace with courtiers and hosted banquets every day without fail. He also granted other nobles the right to host events. But during my stay here, I’ve noticed that Your Grace rarely interacts with other nobles, doesn’t host any gatherings… and doesn’t seem interested in marriage. What I’m trying to ask is, aren’t you lonely?”

“I interact with my soldiers every morning.”

He shrugged.

“Do you think those who host daily banquets at the royal palace aren’t lonely? I think they’re even lonelier. Ostentation is often a sign of deficiency.”

“…”

“I’m very satisfied with my life. And now… you’re here, dining with me, aren’t you?”

I see, I nodded inwardly.

‘He’s a man who isn’t lonely even when alone.’

This was enough for him.

‘He’s as strong as steel, inside and out.’

To me, someone who craved love and connection, he seemed… extraordinary.

‘I wish I could be as strong as him.’

But I wasn’t. I needed family, I needed love.

‘To be free, needing no one… ah, but that would be too lonely…’

I found myself pondering his words more and more often. I didn’t know when it started, but I began looking forward to our weekly dinners. 

I enjoyed our brief conversations, and I… started missing him.