I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 16
Chapter 16
His arms were a cage, holding me captive. I struggled, pushing against him with all my might, my fists pounding against his chest. But he was unyielding, like stone, refusing to budge. His warm breath grazed my neck, a sudden, unexpected touch.
‘Does he mean to kill me now? Or could this be… a belated consummation?’
“S-Stop…”
Close enough to feel his pulse, I saw the throbbing vein in his neck, beating faster than normal.
‘So, he is a man after all, capable of taking a woman.’
He pressed down on my shoulders, his body covering mine as he slowly inhaled my scent. The whole process was unnervingly chilling, a prickling terror that made me want to scream. I thrashed, but I was utterly trapped.
A damp, hot flesh pressed against my bre*st. His ragged breath was so hot it made me shudder. The way he kept inhaling my scent was unsettling, like a beast deciding which part of me to devour. His lips moved to my collarbone, his tongue tracing a slow, wet path across my skin.
“Hhh…”
A shiver ran down my spine, an indescribable sensation, both ticklish and terrifying. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut.
His movements stopped abruptly. The crushing weight lifted slightly, and I gasped for breath. He slowly brought his fingertips to my cheek, the teardrop clinging to his long nail. He watched it for a moment, then licked it away.
His embrace loosened, and I managed to free my hands.
“Cesar.”
At his name, he met my eyes. They seemed different now, gentler. The tension drained away. I stroked his hair.
“Stop.”
“S-Stop?”
“Yes. I’m tired.”
His eyes widened in surprise, his head tilting in confusion, like a scholar pondering an unsolvable riddle. But if I let him be, he would surely try again. And his gaze kept returning to the wounds on my hands, a clear indication of his desire.
I had no choice. I wrapped my arms around him, hiding the injuries from his sight. I slowly stroked his back, and he mimicked the motion, his hand rubbing against mine. Clearing my ragged throat, I whispered in his ear,
“If you keep… feeding on me…”
“Feeding… on…?” His voice sounded like a question, “Don’t?”
‘No, don’t.’
“…I might die.”
He froze. Did he understand death? Or simply that he didn’t want my death?
“No.” Cesar’s pronunciation of that word was clear and emphatic.
“Yes. I don’t want to die either.”
“No…”
“So—”
I meant to tell him it had to stop, but dizziness overwhelmed me, cutting me short. I closed my eyes.
“…N-No…”
Cesar shook me awake. ‘Could I interpret this as him not wanting me to die?’
“Yes, I understand.”
I forced my heavy eyelids open and looked at him, stroking his soft hair again. After a while, he seemed to calm down, nuzzling against me for more affection. I couldn’t quite describe the feeling—like taming a wild beast.
It was… satisfying. The creature who’d seemed intent on hurting me now sought my touch, my approval. A wry smile touched my lips.
‘Perhaps you’re not so different from me. The loneliness of being scorned and hated by everyone, the burden of enduring it all alone…’
Though seemingly different, we were perhaps quite alike. The thought made my touch more tender.
“Are you…?”
“Yes.” His answer was immediate, eager.
“…Hungry?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not hungry?”
“…Mmm.”
Perhaps from blood loss, I felt dizzy and weak, at my limit.
“I’m hungry…”
