The Maid and The Usurper - Chapter 8
She had been the first person to truly become his, the first to celebrate with him his real birthday. His first love, his unrequited love, his first confession.
She was there for all of them.
It was a difficult point to explain, even to himself. He was hopelessly ensnared by those memories. Despite everything, he couldn’t disentangle and free himself.
Leopold bared his teeth, grazing her neck. Layla’s chest squashed against his firm chest, sending shivers through his muscles at the soft contact. Leopold’s hand gripped her b****t, the sensation making his trousers feel painfully tight.
He buried his face on her chest, intoxicated by her soft skin and the scent of her body. His lips parted as he sucked on the flesh at the top of her b****t. His hands kneaded her b****t while his lips sucked and licked gently. Unlike his hard body, her flesh was so soft, he feared he might bruise or damage her if he wasn’t careful.
Her pale skin marked easily. Leopold brushed his lips against her soft skin, planting kisses all over. His lips hovered around her areola before gently touching her n**ple.
Unlike his previous beastly demeanor, he kissed the tip with surprising gentleness. Everything still felt surreal. When he began to nibble and suck on the delicate flesh, he felt a faint push against his shoulder.
“W-wait a moment.”
Leopold lifted his head. Layla spoke, trying to look nonchalant.
“Perhaps it’d be better if you took off your clothes too, Count. Your shirt is roughing up my skin and it stings.”
It was an excuse she had concocted at the spur of the moment. Layla gripped the sheet beneath her. Her heart pounded uncontrollably. Despite her bold approach, she needed more time to prepare herself mentally.
“What?”
“And could you give me a drink? I sure could use one.”
Layla reached for the bottle on the bedside table. Her fingers trembled so slightly it was almost imperceptible.
“You have a knack for ruining the mood.”
Leopold pushed himself to his feet ferociously. Lila flinched and wrapped the sheet around herself. Leopold pushed his hair back from his forehead, his jaw clenched.
“You really know how to kill a moment.”
He felt like a f**cking fool. He could see the slight tremor in her fingers all too clearly. He should have just become the lust-driven beast Layla seemed to want him to be. Giving up that easy path made him the biggest idiot of all.
“I’d rather hug a stone than touch you right now.”
Leopold grabbed the delicate Layla’s chin and spun her around to face him. Her bluish-purple eyes trembled. Leopold imagined what his reflection looked like in her eyes. He could only hope it wasn’t the worst for her.
“We’ll leave the proof for later. The way you proposed it to me. Now that I think about it, there’s no surer way.”
He couldn’t stop his mouth from running wild in his excitement.
“A girl like you, who’s a master at betraying people, might just leave me again somehow…”
He was still standing alone in that hut, waiting for a Layla who would never return.
“If you were carrying my child, you couldn’t break the contract so easily.”
He had occasionally imagined himself holding Layla with a swollen belly. He had once dreamed of living in a quiet rural village with her. Now it was nothing more than a delusion. He blurted out whatever came to mind. He wanted to deny that Layla still held sway over him, even if it was only for a moment.
He ran a hot hand through his hair, swept his face clean, then straightened his disheveled clothes. He gathered her clothes from the floor and handed it to Layla.
“Put it on, it’s going to be cold.”
He couldn’t muster the courage to look at her silent face.
“Go to bed. Going back at this hour will only deepen the scandal.”
Yes, he was still an idiot and a fool. He was an idiot for not being able to keep his wits about him when he was being bossed around so mercilessly.
“Forget it. Do as you please. When have you ever not done as you pleased?”
His tone was sarcastic as he turned away. He wondered what expression Layla might have on her face. Would she look at him with contempt, or would her eyes be filled with tears? Either way, it wasn’t pleasant to imagine, so he stopped. He opened the door to the small bathroom attached to the room. He clearly felt his swollen body was in an unsightly state.He had never been this way, even when a naked prostitute had thrown herself at him. Leopold unfastened his trousers.
He was disgustingly aroused, the swollen head of his p**is looking grotesque. He wrapped his hand around his c**k and squeezed. Mast***ation was one of the things he’d become accustomed to during his countless nights on the battlefield. If he didn’t want to get involved with prostitutes seeking a quick buck or turn into a beast driven by lust, mast***ation was the only option left.
“Holy, bloody hell.”
He cursed under his breath to stifle his moans. He’d already spent countless nights this way. He buried his face in an old, worn-out handkerchief that no longer had a scent, and wiped away his lust. He thought it pathetic, yet he couldn’t stop. Leaning against the wall, he continued to mast***ate, relying on the lingering sensation of her skin still present in his hand.
