“They… they’re mine.”

“Yours?”

“Ah!”

Her hair was pulled roughly, forcing her head back as a sharp gasp escaped her lips. Dragged from her chair, she was made to kneel before him. A mocking smile curled on Areos’s lips.

“You have nothing that is yours.”

The fireplace roared to life and Cyrene could only watch helplessly as the items were tossed into the flames. As they burned, her vision blurred with tears. Noticing her reddening eyes, Areos pushed her head down, forcing her closer between his legs.

Her lips pressed reluctantly against the hardened p*nis. She knew exactly what was expected of her, but she resisted. It was unbearable – to burn Ilion’s traces, to erase them, to trample them and leave her with nothing but pain.

Was ignorance better? Before she knew what kindness was, what gentle hands felt like, or what it meant to make her smile – those moments of softness and warmth had left her with nothing but fear when it came to Areos.

“Ah… ugh…”

Normally Areos would wait for her to take him willingly, but now his impatient hand grabbed his swollen p*nis and forced it between her lips.

“Ha… ugh…”

The hand pulling roughly at the back of her head made it hard to breathe. Cyrene gasped, her trembling hands resting on his firm thighs. Why was he always so hard when it came to Ilion?

“Mm… ugh…”

The rough sensation of his p*nis being thrust deep into her throat caused tears to stream uncontrollably down Cyrene’s cheeks. Her jaw ached from being forced wide open, the massive intrusion pressing against her tongue and grinding roughly against her lips.

Wet, crunching sounds filled the room as the saliva-soaked p*nis moved in and out of her mouth. Her head, held tightly in place, twisted from the relentless motion.

“Mmm… ugh… ugh…”

A low moan escaped Areos. With a sharp thrust, he buried himself deep in her throat and *jaculated into her. The hot c*m trickled down her throat and the pulsing p*nis seemed to fill her entire mind.

“Mmmm…”

Cyrene’s trembling fingers gripped his muscular thighs tightly, her breaths short and ragged. He didn’t let up, forcing himself deeper, squeezing out every last drop. Her throat tightened painfully around him, suffocating her even more.

Her face turned bright red from lack of air. Only then did Areos release his grip and pull back.

“Cough… cough…”

As she coughed, the taste of his sperm lingered on her tongue, the sharp, salty flavour mixing with the pungent scent of burning herbs wafting from the fireplace. The combination stung her nose and brought fresh tears to her eyes.

“Haah… haa…”

Gasping for breath, Cyrene struggled to catch her breath, but Areos showed her no mercy. Without a word, he pinned her to the floor, lifting the hem of her dress and forcing her legs apart.

“No, stop… I don’t want this-ah!”

Ignoring her protests, his hands roughly explored her dry hole before pressing his saliva-coated p*nis into the tight ring of her bum hole.

“Agh…!”

The pain was sharp, as if something was tearing at her from within. Cyrene gasped and struggled in vain, but Areos’ expression remained cold and unyielding, showing no sign of sympathy or hesitation.

“Yours?”

His mocking laugh echoed through the room, filling it with a cruel sense of finality.

“I’m in pain… ugh, ah… ugh…”

The relentless intrusion into her tightly clenched hole made Cyrene feel as if her entire body was being torn apart. Although she had experienced it before, this unfamiliar act caused her muscles to tense uncontrollably. The thick, swollen p*nis seemed to grow with every reaction of her body, as if provoked by her resistance.

“Ah… ugh…”

The sounds that escaped her mouth were a mixture of sobs and moans, indistinguishable even to her. The more she struggled, the deeper Areos drove into her, forcing sensations she couldn’t separate into pleasure and pain. A faint metallic smell of blood lingered, as if something inside her had been torn.

The sticky substance covering her skin – was it blood or something else? She couldn’t tell. Her trembling hands clung to his shoulders, nails clawing desperately at his flesh.

“Your Highness, please, Your Highness…”

She begged through panting breaths. Every thrust of his body against hers was met with a rough tug at her waist, his powerful hands pulling her closer. Her body jerked violently with each impact.

“Ugh, ah…!”

The sensation of him reaching places deep inside her, places she had thought untouchable, made her feel as if she were being pierced. Her fingers trembled, her whole body shaking as the mixture of pain and twisted pleasure left her terrified.

“Haah…”

Areos let out a lazy sigh as he pressed his body down on top of Cyrene. Covering her trembling lips with his own, he bit down hard on her soft mouth.

“Ugh…”

A sobbing moan escaped her as their lower bodies collided with wet, rhythmic sounds. Cyrene’s legs dangled in the air, her toes twitching uncontrollably.

The sound of his ragged breathing was accompanied by the tearing of cloth. A sharp, biting sensation struck her neck, like a predator sinking its teeth into its prey.

“Ahh… ugh, haah!”

The sudden bite on her slender neck caused her to gasp and her body to instinctively tighten. Without warning, Areos fingers slid into her now smooth and yielding p*ssy hole.

The wet, squelching sounds grew louder as he moved his fingers inside her, as if to scoop out the slippery fluids that were pooling there. The sticky, obscene liquid trickled down, even wetting her bottom hole.

The now smoother movements brought a slight respite, softening Cyrene’s cries, though her body still shook beneath him.

“Haah… ah… ugh…”

Cyrene’s trembling body clung to Areos, her thin arms wrapped desperately around him as she tried in vain to ease the pain, her hips instinctively seeking some form of relief.

Each time her inner walls tightened around him, her rear entrance tightened reflexively. Areos exhaled heavily as his fingers explored her insides, pressing hard against her most sensitive areas. His hand circled her swollen cl*t relentlessly, rubbing with ruthless intensity.

“Ah, no… stop… ugh!”

Cyrene’s struggle peaked as she threw her head back. Her body tightened, and it was then that Areos *jaculated inside her for the second time. Her flushed, swollen entrance twitched, slick with a mixture of s*men, and sticky fluid poured down her thighs.

“Ah… ugh!”

When he finally withdrew, a stream of pink, blood-stained fluid trickled from between her swollen, reddened hole. The rough, unprepared penetration had left her raw and visibly inflamed. Areos gaze fell to her p*ssy before slowly moving to her tear streaked face.

His hand reached out to caress her flushed, tear-stained cheek. He leaned down and kissed her, her lips parting slightly as trembling breaths escaped between them.

“Haah… ha…”

Areos lips pressed tightly against her trembling lashes. Cyrene flinched, her shoulders shrinking at the touch. His warm tongue traced her tear-stained face, licking away the remnants of her tears.

“Did you like Marquis Laska that much?”

At his question, her mind wandered to Ilion. If wanting to see him, to touch him, meant she liked him, then Cyrene knew she did.

“…Stay away from him from now on.”

His tone softened, as if the brutality of moments before had been a lie. The soft whisper made her shoulders tense even more.

“Good girl.”

Areos chuckled softly and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. The pain in her entrance throbbed persistently. He slowly stroked her hair before standing up, leaving her sprawled out on the floor.

Cyrene looked up at him blankly. The heat of the roaring fire was oppressive, its flickering flames casting shifting shadows that only seemed to harden Areos expression.

She wanted to ask, but couldn’t find the courage.

Why can’t I see him?

The metallic smell of blood and s*men lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of the ointment. The door closed with a soft click. Cyrene, lying dazed on the carpet, slowly pushed herself to her feet. A shiver ran through her body as she felt a sudden surge of warmth.

Her whole body ached. Crawling over to the fireplace, she stared blankly at the ashes of what had been burned. Nothing was left.

Would I be able to see him if I were discarded?

The thought lingered as she hugged her knees tightly to her chest. She wanted to see Ilion.

***

Ilion didn’t come. Even after counting all ten fingers, and then several more days, he didn’t appear. She couldn’t meet him.

“Ah… ugh…”

Under the bright blue sky, Cyrene’s toes curled and trembled. A man buried his face in her br*ast, his breath heavy as he released himself inside her.

“Haah… ha…”

The man moved his hips lazily a few more times, as if savouring the moment, then withdrew abruptly. The now familiar sensation of fluid leaking from her body followed.

“Mmm…”

The slick, sticky p*nis pressed against her lips. Without a word, Cyrene extended her tongue and slowly licked the p*nis. Her expression brightened slightly as the man placed a hand on the back of her head and began to move his hips again.

“Ugh… ah… mmph…”

“Aren’t you done yet?”

A voice, unfamiliar but faintly recognisable, interrupted. Cyrene didn’t bother to make out who it was. After all, none of the men who had sought her body had ever spoken much.

“Almost done.”

“Mmgh… hmm…”

As Cyrene tried to lift her head, the p*nis in her mouth pushed deeper. Another set of hands slid under her waist, lifting her hips higher.

“Mmgh… ah… ugh!”

The already dripping hole was filled again, the penetration deep and relentless. Each hard thrust from behind forced the p*nis in her mouth further down her throat.

“Hah… hmmm… ugh…”