The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 111
After about ten minutes, Johanna finished the drawing. Though it was just a simple pencil sketch, she had put effort into capturing the details as precisely as possible, knowing that it was for Leonid. Feeling a bit embarrassed, she hesitated before handing him the sketchbook.
“All done?”
“Yes… I’m not sure if you’ll like it, though.”
“Let’s see.”
Leonid chuckled lightly and snatched the sketchbook from her hands. Johanna watched him anxiously, worried about his reaction, but even more concerned that he might flip through the other pages and discover her private drawings.
“…You did well.”
“….”
He muttered the brief compliment, his expression unreadable as he stared at the drawing for a long while. Johanna couldn’t tell if he was genuinely impressed or simply indifferent.
Then, suddenly—
“And…”
“…!”
Leonid started to flip to another page. In a panic, Johanna quickly reached out and grabbed the sketchbook, her heart racing. The last thing she wanted was for him to see the secret drawings she had made of him in private.
“What’s this? Let go.”
“Please, just give it back now.”
“What’s in here that’s making you act so guilty?”
“They’re just… rough sketches. I’d be embarrassed to show anyone.”
“Even if they’re just sketches, with your skill, I’m sure they’re well-done.”
“No, absolutely not!”
Johanna tugged hard, trying to pull the sketchbook out of his grasp, but it was useless. Leonid held it firmly, refusing to let go. Johanna felt like crying, her head pounding with frustration and embarrassment.
“Stop pushing me. I’m on the verge of my rut.”
“…!”
His sudden, growling statement caught her off guard, and she swallowed nervously. She had no idea what she had done to provoke him, but being careful now seemed like the best option.
“Could you just give it back… please?”
“The more desperate you are, the more curious I get.”
“I’ll draw you another picture, okay?”
In a last-ditch attempt to strike a deal, Johanna’s voice wavered. Leonid, clearly amused, gave a small, dismissive laugh. But then, without warning, he let go of the sketchbook and grabbed her chin, tilting her face toward him. In the blink of an eye, he pressed his lips to hers with a rough, devouring kiss.
“Mm…!”
The kiss was more like an assault. His lips covered hers, sucking, biting, and drawing her in. His tongue forced its way between her parted lips, exploring the inside of her mouth, sliding over her teeth, and delving deeper to brush against the roof of her mouth. His thick tongue entwined with hers, tangling and dominating, as saliva pooled and slid down the back of her throat. She couldn’t even tell whose it was anymore.
The pheromones mixed with their shared saliva clouded her mind, making her dizzy. His kiss, primal and aggressive, unleashed a torrent of pheromones that wrapped tightly around Johanna, sending shivers down her spine and electrifying her body.
“Hmph, ugh… hmm…”
It was a brutal, ferocious kiss that made her fear she might be consumed whole. It was rougher than usual, and Johanna wondered if his nearing rut cycle was the cause. He was always on the verge of losing control to his instincts, but the thought of how much more animalistic he could become during his rut frightened her.
Panting heavily, she gasped for breath.
“Ha… ha…”
After being tormented for what felt like an eternity and completely drained, Johanna was finally released from his grasp. Struggling to catch her breath, she suddenly realized her hands were empty. She stared blankly at her palm, and it took her a moment to realize—her sketchbook was gone.
“…!”
In a panic, she quickly looked up at Leonid. Of course, there it was—he had the sketchbook in his hands. As if the intense, messy kiss had never happened, he calmly flipped through the pages, inspecting each one with a composed expression.
…She genuinely wanted to flee. To hide anywhere she could.
This wasn’t the first time Johanna had secretly drawn him. She had been sketching his likeness for some time, and that sketchbook was filled with drawings of him—imagined and real.
His expressionless face, his profile as he stared out a window, the way he looked the day he saved her when she was sixteen, wearing that long coat that brushed his ankles. His bored expression while reading a newspaper. And even… his face with a bright, uncharacteristic smile.
Reflecting on it now, Johanna realized that sketchbook was full of fantasies about him. She deeply regretted not having burned it long ago. She wracked her brain, searching for an excuse, but nothing came to mind. Her thoughts went blank, like a vast, empty white space. She almost wished she could faint.
“Hmm.”
“…!”
At the sound of his contemplative hum, she instinctively flinched. What do I do? Nervously, she fidgeted with her hands, breaking into a cold sweat. She had to explain that she hadn’t drawn him because she liked him. She’d have to say he was just a good subject to sketch, and that’s all.
Just as she was about to speak—
“You must really like my face, huh?”
