Chesterfield Mansion: The House of the Man Who Hates Me - Chapter 40

Izer requested as he sat up with a pillow behind his back.

“I’m hungry. Bring me stew and bread. And since it’s hot, please make the milk cold.”

“I’ll tell the maid.”

He chuckled.

“You were calling me crazy when you woke me up earlier, and now you’re running away again.”

“……”

“Was it something like ‘Even if he’s trash, I can’t just watch him die’?”

He had clearly heard Doctor Owen’s words while pretending to sleep. At the part about brain damage if the fever hadn’t been brought down somehow, he had internally let out a deep sigh.

The woman who received the question responded with a sulky voice.

“Just say thank you.”

“Hey……”

Celian was startled. It had been a while since she’d seen Izer laugh so loudly. His breathless laughter split the room cheerfully.

After laughing for a while, he looked at Celian.

“Thank you for saving me.”

“……”

Her face suggested she wondered if the fever had finally done something to his brain. Izer started laughing again. He pretended not to see her feet slowly sidling towards the side. He also pretended not to notice when she quickly slipped through the gap when the door opened and ran away.

Even after the door closed, Izer only removed the hand covering his face after laughing for a while longer.

“……”

His cool eyes turned toward the closed door.

He wanted Celian Berienne. But that woman only thought about running away from him. He needed something to firmly tie down this pitiful rabbit.

His mind rotated quickly. He needed to think about why Celian Berienne had given up running away and stayed to take care of him.

The answer came quickly.

Sympathy.

She was the kind of woman who would wrap an earthworm crawling under the scorching sun in paper and insist on moving it to a flower bed. Thanks to that, Izer learned that earthworms get burned if you pick them up with your hands — the earthworm, that is.

This time, he had simply become the being she couldn’t ignore instead of an earthworm.

Izer wanted to applaud himself from the previous night when he had fallen ill. The timing was perfect, he had almost lost her again. Though this time, he would have had the strength to find that woman.

However, he couldn’t fall ill every day. He needed something definitive that would prevent her from leaving him even when he wasn’t sick……

The woman flinched when she met his burning gaze as soon as she opened the door. Warm steam rose from the tray.

“I thought you said you’d tell the maid?”

“They’re all busy.”

“I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve come to my senses enough to know that no one wants to serve a cuckoo chick who might be kicked out at any moment.”

The warm scent of bread tickled her nose. A forgotten appetite returned.

Izer picked up a piece of bread from the tray as he stood. One, two, three pieces. He ate all the bread he had brought. Ignoring Celian, who was watching him, he finished his meal standing up and drank the cold milk. It was sweet, as if honey or sugar had been added.

“Aren’t you going to Percy?”

“The Young Lord will be going to bed soon.”

“Right……”

Izer wiped his mouth with a napkin.

‘I need to be more broken. I need to look more pathetic to her. That’s the only way to keep her eyes on me.’

‘So, look closely at how messed up I am.’

The tray with wheels rolled to the other side of the room. The man shook his foot and ordered.

“Take them off.” 

 ***

 The Chesterfield dukedom’s summer without Renéee flowed surprisingly normally.

The Duke dyed his white hair gold. Work went on as usual. The war of nerves between the adoptive father and son, who had lost their mediator, continued. If you could call a one-sided insult a war of nerves.

Celian checked her bag of money several times a day to make sure its contents were safe. Her plan to escape when the timing was right was still valid.

At that moment, red eyes met hers.

“What are you thinking?”

“Gasp……!”

His palm covered her sensitive area as if he knew she had been distracted for a moment. The stimulation doubled as he pressed down on her, his manhood already buried inside her.

“Ah, ah……”

Her ankle, which had been resting on the bed, lifted and rested on the man’s shoulder. Crimson eyes stared at the woman who was clutching the sheets and moaning from the impact that shot straight to her cervix.

As soon as their eyes met, Izer smiled benevolently.

“It hurts my pride when you’re distracted.”

“Sob!”

“Does this mean you’re used to it now? Are you bored?”

That wasn’t it. Celian shook her head, tears welling up.

The night Izer regained consciousness, he had filled his hunger with a few pieces of bread and immediately pushed Celian onto the bed.

The only thing she remembered was that his hands, which were groping her br*asts while he forced himself inside her, were more careful than usual. He whispered dirty words, saying that the other maids had smaller br*asts than her and didn’t catch his eye, but the kisses he left on her neck seemed incredibly sweet.

As she lay on top of Izer, swallowing the milk he fed her mouth-to-mouth, Celian wondered who this s*x was for, and then fell asleep.

Since then, he had become subtly gentler. He took his time instead of violently leading her to climax. The days when he would order her to get on top were rare.

Of course, a jerk doesn’t become human just because he’s trying to redeem himself.

Her neck, which had been looking up at the ceiling, trembled and tilted back. Her tightly tensed waist was ready to climax.

“Ah, ah……”

“Celian, look at me.”

The reformed jerk was particularly obsessed with her eyes. She had a feeling that was why he didn’t do it from behind.

“Come while looking at me. That suits you.”

“Sob……”

“Go ahead. It’s not like you’re the one who has to do the laundry, right?”

The moment she felt his finger on her entrance, lightning struck her mind. She felt a trickle of something run down her lifted b*ttocks, and her grip on the sheets loosened.

He deliberately sucked on his fingers while looking at Celian. He felt his fingers slip out from below as her legs fell onto the bed.

The relief of being able to breathe easily was short-lived as his hard abs pressed against her stomach. Celian moaned at the distinct sensation of his tip parting her lips.

“Hmm……”

His manhood, hard as if it would pierce her at any moment, rubbed against her cl*toris playfully. She wanted to cover her ears at the embarrassing sound of his shaft, slick with a mixture of prec*m and her fluids, moving inside her, but her arms were limp.

Her limp arm was grabbed.

“Hold it.”

The man, who had been looking at her small hand barely holding his length with displeasure, placed his own hand over hers. Her palm, gripping his shaft, began to pump back and forth against her will.

“……”

Even in her unfocused eyes, she could clearly see his dark red pillar appearing and disappearing between her hands.

Celian’s hand brushed against her lower body as he started m*sturbating while pressed against her. Every time her sensitive bud was stimulated by the intense climax, the entrance right below twitched.

Izer kept his gaze fixed on her vacant eyes.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t want to meet his eyes or if she was just spacing out. She was not only holding his manhood, but also looking at it. It was a sight that would never be allowed to anyone else. That was enough.

Thanks to the prec*m that had flowed out as much as her evaporated fluids, m*sturbation was easy. To be blunt, having Celian help him m*sturbate didn’t provide the same tightness as when he was inside her.

But this had its own appeal. A perverse pleasure in seeing a part of her body, a part that anyone could see, being used solely for his pleasure.

In fact, it didn’t matter what Celian did. As long as it revolved around his manhood — whether her small mouth took him in, her hands grasped him, her cleavage held him, her lower body encased him, or even her eyes were allowed to see him. Izer groaned, gripping her hand tightly.

“Wear gloves when you see Doctor Owen.”

“……”

“There’s no need to show him your bare hands and make him suffer with impossible imaginations. You should at least show that much consideration to a ‘friend.’”

“We’re not in that kind of relationship…”

“Yes, we are. Keep it that way.”

His thrusts into the air picked up speed. Her four tightly pressed fingers acted as his stimulation. He was the one with the rougher hands with prominent bones, but the stimulation from her soft hands was immense.

“Ugh……”

White fluid splattered messily over her body.

Izer twisted his lips and smeared his s*men on her n*pple. Now she just lay there, breathing, even with all his perverse acts. It drove him crazy.

It was as if she was allowing him to do whatever he wanted. A silent acknowledgment that she was his, and that she would accept anything he did.

In reality, she had probably given up because she had no strength to refuse. Or maybe it was a calculated move, knowing that protesting would only excite him more.

Either way, Celian Berienne’s body was open to him. Only he could defile her. Drunk on a primal sense of victory, he licked the s*men that had splattered on her neck. She trembled like a rabbit about to be devoured.

Sadism welled up inside him, and he twisted her n*pple with his s*men-covered finger. A new layer of stickiness coated the spot where the drying s*men had started to flake off.