Hansel’s Enchanted Fairytale: Fill Me Up With Magic! - Chapter 40
Dante paused mid-motion, frozen as he spread out the sheets. Remaining in his awkward posture, he glanced back over his shoulder.
Hansel was clinging to his back, her arms wrapped around his waist. Pressed against his broad frame, she looked tiny, like a cicada clutching an ancient tree.
Hansel tilted her head, resting her chin against his back. Her silken platinum hair cascaded like a curtain.
With a playful smile, she said,
“I just wanted to hug you when I saw your back… It’s so nice—broad, muscular, firm…”
While such displays of affection had felt awkward at first, Hansel discovered she had a knack for it. Dante’s silent acceptance made it easier.
Dante never asked anything of Hansel. She didn’t have to excel at anything, and it wasn’t a problem if she wasn’t good at something. All Hansel had to do was accompany him in whatever he did.
It was a life she had never imagined while growing up as the eldest daughter of the Arsinoe family.
Realizing this, Hansel, who had been perpetually on edge like a mouse living in an attic, gradually began to relax without even noticing it herself.
“……”
Dante looked down at her with bewildered eyes, utterly at a loss for what to make of the situation.
For the past few days, Dante had simply kept Hansel in his sight. The closest he had come to her was observing her sleeping face or briefly patting her head as she slept.
Hansel had no idea, but the reason was simple: she hadn’t asked him to. For some reason, Dante found himself unwilling to do anything Hansel didn’t explicitly want.
When the silence stretched on, Hansel awkwardly withdrew her arms and stepped back. The soft sensation that had pressed against his firm back disappeared along with her.
“Um, you know how it is… When you like something, you want to touch it,” Hansel muttered, feigning nonchalance to mask her embarrassment.
Dante’s eyes widened slightly—a rare, startled reaction. His crimson gaze flickered, momentarily disoriented, as if unsure where to settle.
“You like me?”
The nuance felt strangely off, but it wasn’t entirely wrong. Hansel averted her eyes and gave a small shrug.
“Well… if I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t hug you. I wouldn’t even come close, would I?”
“I see.”
Dante’s sharp eyes softened into a subtle crescent, like a sliver of the moon.
Hansel’s heart skipped a beat.
If not for the life-and-death stakes, she might have realized sooner that his face was utterly unfair. Even his usual stoic expression could leave her entranced when sunlight caught his golden features. Now, smiling directly at her, he seemed almost blinding.
For a moment, Hansel forgot why she had hugged him in the first place.
Snapping herself back to reality, she scolded herself inwardly.
‘What are you doing, letting yourself waver? You’re trying to win him over! Focus, Hansel. Your life depends on this.’
Realizing Dante seemed to be in a good mood, Hansel decided to push her luck further. If there was one thing Dante liked…
It had to be something risqué.
“Dante.”
Hansel stepped closer, looking up at him with slightly flushed cheeks, her eyes deliberately wide and bright.
“Do you… want to touch my chest?”
“……”
Dante visibly flinched, a wave of heat rushing downward through his body. It wasn’t surprising, considering he was in the peak of his youthful virility and had been abstaining for days.
He glanced down at his lower half.
“You asking made my c**k hard,” he murmured.
His massive e******n strained against his trousers, threatening to burst through. Hansel’s gaze flicked to the bulge in his pants.
Meeting his gaze, she spoke softly,
“Why don’t we do something better than sucking or rubbing? I… I’ll teach you something new.”
Their eyes locked in a charged silence before Hansel took the initiative, wrapping her arms around his waist. Dante’s heated length pressed firmly against her belly through their clothes, and her breath came out in a warm, shuddering exhale.
***
“You mean… like what the ram did to the ewe?”
Dante frowned, clearly displeased. Hansel, perched on the granite countertop of the kitchen, wiggled her toes nervously.
“You’re saying I should stick my c**k in your butt?”
“Not my butt—!”
