The Hungry Tyrant's Bedroom - Chapter 20
However, before she could even finish sorting out her thoughts, Aidan, who had thrown off his clothes, lunged at Floria.
He tore off her nightgown as if ripping it apart and buried his face between her soft b*****s.
Her n*****s, which had stiffened from his gaze and touch just moments ago, were caught between his lips.
“Mm.”
Floria raised her hand to cover her lips, afraid a loud scream might escape from her mouth.
Chup, chuup.
Even though he was sucking on her b****t, the sensation below throbbed. Her n****e, drawn into the hot and wetness of his mouth—so different from the touch of his hand—turned red.
“Ah.”
The mouth of the tyrant Aidan was definitely something else. Just a kiss was enough to melt her to her toes, and now with her b****t in his mouth, it tickled so unbearably.
“Your… Grace, haah…”
She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. Every time she touched him, a new sensation was born, and though she tried to push him away in fear of it, there was no way her frail strength could make that happen.
His nose rubbed against the bumpy areola, and his tongue persistently licked the tip of her b****t. Only after her white chest was slick and soaked with saliva did he finally lift his lips.
“Ha… delicious.”
“…Hhh…”
“I thought it would smell like milk, but it’s sweet and fragrant, unlike I expected. Is this your scent?”
Floria could only let out faint, fragile moans.
“Or… is it the scent of a woman?”
She didn’t know the answer either, so she couldn’t reply.
“What’s certain is—I like it.”
With that blunt remark, he moved downward. Aidan’s gaze swept over her lower body clad in drawers as he whispered,
“I didn’t think my wife would be sick for three whole days.”
“……”
His hand parted Floria’s legs.
The drawers were already soaked with the fluid that had flowed from between Floria’s legs, rendering them useless, as the inside was visible through the damp fabric.
Unaware that the scene appeared even more provocative, Floria gasped, trembling in fear, wondering if he would tear the drawers again.
The faintly visible skin beneath was red.
Only the outline of the lower body was revealed over the wet cloth.
The man twisted his lips as he gazed at the soft, unmistakably tender flesh.
“If I put mine in here again today, will you break?”
At the provocative words, a dull ache pulsed inside.
Unaware of its master’s intent, the mucous membranes twitched, and the hole quivered open.
However, unlike her heat-flushed g******s, Floria’s eyes were filled with fear.
“Please······.”
The plea slipped out on its own.
At those words, Aidan frowned.
“I don’t intend to break you.”
His fingers grasped the band of her drawers.
“I’ve never seen anything as fascinating as you in my life.”
“You’ll kill me······.”
Whether you want it or not, this time won’t end with just fainting.
Your manhood isn’t a size meant to go into a human body.
If the same thing as that night happens again, Floria felt like her body would shatter.
This can’t go on.
I have to survive.
I wanted to live.
There were still so many books I wanted to read, so many snacks I wanted to eat, so many things I wanted to see.
I didn’t want to die like this.
If I’m going to die either way, then let me resist before I go.
“Your Grace the Grand Duke, A-Aidan.”
He liked it when she called his name.
Probably······ It seemed that way.
That night, every time she spoke his name, Aidan twisted a smile at the corners of his lips.
She had to stop him somehow.
As she called his name, the hand that had been lowering Floria’s white drawers paused.
It halted precariously midway down her thighs, making it all the more lascivious.
A tuft of pubic hair peeked over the waistband of her drawers.
“It hurts so much, I might die if we do it again. Yours is too big and hard. If it goes inside me······ I’ll die.”
At those words, Aidan’s hand, which had been brushing through the curly orange pubic hair, stopped.
Floria whispered once more.
“Please, have mercy······.”
Mercy.
Aidan stared directly into Floria’s fear-filled eyes as if he didn’t like what he saw.
“······What is it you want me to do?”
“······.”
“How dare you, after what I went through to obtain you—do you expect me to spend the night alone?”
He didn’t say it outright, but the implication was clear.
