Garden of May - Chapter 63
Chapter 63
“Haah…,” Vanessa gasped, a haze of pleasure washing over her. A hot liquid spilled deep inside her, the sensitized flesh registering every sensation. Her face, flushed crimson, buried itself in the bed as she fought to contain her cries.
Her constricted core couldn’t contain it all, the excess leaking out and trickling down her thighs, feeling hotter than it should. Amidst the messy, indecent sensations, Vanessa climaxed again.
With her body in this state, she could no longer claim innocence. And strangely, she was glad.
***
“My throat is completely…raw,” Vanessa winced, forcing out a strained, “Ah, ah.” Her larynx was noticeably swollen. Trying to stifle her moans had only aggravated it.
“You didn’t have to hold back.”
“But what if someone heard?”
“Weren’t you hoping someone would…eventually?”
“Of course, eventually…yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because if someone heard us now, you would be in danger.”
River Ross turned at her words, one eyebrow cocked in disbelief. “I’d rather you hurt your throat than your body.”
What if someone really did hear us, and your uncle hurt you because of it… Vanessa swallowed the words that rushed to her tongue.
Perhaps he was just pretending to care, playing the part of the devoted lover in their false relationship without truly wanting it. Her thoughts, skewed as they were, bordered on insecurity. Vanessa sighed and nodded. “I will, next time.”
His eyes narrowed, as if questioning her sincerity, then a teasing smile played on his lips. “Are you planning on sleeping with me again?”
“…Summer is far from over.”
“Ah, summer. Right.”
“I truly don’t mean anything by it. It’s just…our arrangement. Regardless of whether I like it or not.”
“You’re rambling, Vanessa.” His grip tightened slightly on her slender wrist. “Does that mean you didn’t enjoy it?”
His gaze, suddenly serious, held hers. The playful rake had vanished, replaced by a composed and earnest expression. Normally, she would have pretended not to hear, but his serious demeanor made it impossible to ignore him, a habit from her childhood.
Had he remembered this weakness of hers? Vanessa averted her gaze, her voice barely a whisper. “…I enjoyed it. Of course.”
The simple confession mortified her, but the boyish grin that spread across his face in the next moment erased the need for pretense. It didn’t seem to matter anymore, how foolish she appeared, how infatuated she was with him.
A shift in the wind drew River Ross’s attention. His raven hair fell softly across his forehead.
The early evening moon hung in the sky, and the first fireflies of the season began to rise above the rose bushes in the garden. It was a magical moment, like the foam of waves crashing against rocks. Even the fleeting moment held the illusion of time slowing down.
Vanessa watched, mesmerized, not even blinking. Did he always wear that expression when he was at sea, feeling the wind on his face?
Sometimes, she allowed herself the fantasy that he might feel the same way. Lately, River Ross had been acting so affectionate, as if they were truly lovers.
He sought her out multiple times a day, each time clinging to her with the desperate hunger of someone parched. He often acted as if this summer would never end, as if their arrangement would continue indefinitely. As if it wasn’t just a contract.
And that’s what I wanted, isn’t it? Disillusionment followed every attempt to gauge his sincerity. At some point, dissecting the line between pretense and truth had started to feel foolish.
Did River Ross even realize the way she sometimes looked at him?
