Becoming the Guide of the Mysophobic Villain? Absolutely Not! - Chapter 113
As the cool air touched my bare chest, goosebumps formed. My top, pulled up to my neck, lost its purpose and fully exposed my chest.
“Rose, why has this become so…?”
“Nnh…”
While lightly touching the tip of my b****t, Claude playfully asked. True enough, my n*****s were sore from being bitten and sucked on, embarrassingly red and swollen.
His large hand grasped my soft b*****s. They were helplessly kneaded and played with under his manipulation.
And he was looking at the scene with utter satisfaction. Leisurely yet greedily, like a predator before a feast.
“Rose…”
“…”
“You need to answer, Rose.”
“Don’t, don’t call me…”
I almost whimpered in a plea. He smirked as if to let me off, then bent his head down.
“Ngh…!”
His stroking hand was leisurely and tender, but the tip of his tongue sucking the peak of my b****t was persistent and ravenous.
Even so, his red eyes were constantly watching mine.
Unlike his mischievous and sinister mouth, he was carefully observing me, as if not to miss a single subtle change in my sensitive expressions.
“Hahn…”
I shouldn’t let things slide like this. I needed to hear the whole story, to understand what he was planning, what he intended to do.
But in the end, I pulled his head towards me and kissed him first.
His hot tongue eagerly responded.
***
So, when did he turn himself in? It was not until a week had passed.
Putting it off with various excuses like ‘there’s no rush whether it’s today or tomorrow’, or ‘it’s more important for you to recover first’, Claude kept pouncing on me whenever he found a chance.
Of course, I too, was always saying it wasn’t okay but kept falling for it each time…
Eventually, this struggle of attack and defense ended when I fell bedridden for a few days.
That’s the stamina of an ordinary office worker for you. Work five days out of seven, rest on the sixth just to barely function on the seventh. Rest isn’t for the joy of living, but a necessity for survival.
Having to accommodate Claude without proper rest following stressful events, it was inevitable that my body would be overstrained.
Seeing me boiling with a fever, Claude finally realized that s*x wasn’t something to be indulged in whenever the mood struck, and wore a face like he had lost a country.
Anyway, thanks to that, I got a few days of rest and care from Claude. When I recovered, he started to reach out with his tempting hands again, hungry from just a few days of abstinence. I managed to coax and appease him, and finally turned myself in.
At the entrance of the Guide Rights Protection Committee building, a security team was already waiting. Among them was the chief of security.
Looking injured or uncomfortable, the chief of security glared at Claude with eyes full of murderous intent.
On the chief’s order, Claude was restrained in a psychic ability-suppressing restraint before even entering the building.
Ah, of course, ‘being restrained’ is just a rhetorical expression.
Despite rolling around and mixing fluids with me for the past week, Claude still supposedly severe mysophobia with others. It’s not like him to calmly allow someone else to bind him.
So, who put on the restraint? Claude did it himself. He even chuckled in disbelief while doing it.
It was known to Claude, me, and even the chief of security who ordered him to wear the restraint, that it wouldn’t be effective on him.
Originally, psychic ability-suppressing restraints can’t exert force beyond the capability of their creator. But no matter who made it, it couldn’t match the world’s strongest, Claude, so the restraint was nothing more than a means to humiliate and suppress his morale.
Of course, Claude, who doesn’t care about others’ opinions, wasn’t affected at all. He obediently wore it just to expedite this annoying process and return home.
Still, my heart ached seeing him walk to the interrogation room with the handcuffs, treated like a criminal. It felt like I had become his disgrace.
In any case.
The first hurdle we had to clear was the imprinting test.
If the test confirmed that we were indeed imprinted, the discussion on the actual punishment and its severity would follow.
The problem is, if the test shows that we are not imprinted, Claude’s plan would be completely foiled.
