She hurriedly placed the canvas on the easel and sat down.

Viscount Lacardo had been receiving attention recently for his achievements in wiping out pirates in the west. 

Dressed in his uniform with sharp creases and groomed hair for the portrait, he was quite eye-catching. Passing ladies would glance at the viscount and blush or giggle among themselves.

The viscount seemed a bit shy but didn’t pay them attention. Rita observed how Viscount Lacardo kept running his hand through his hair or wiping his palms like they were sweaty, and predicted his personality was timid.

‘I thought he’d have a brave personality since he flattened the pirates’ noses, but surprisingly not.′

When models were shy, creating a relaxed atmosphere so their poses wouldn’t stiffen was also the painter’s responsibility. Rita stood up briefly and approached him. She’d been wanting to retie his cravat anyway.

“I’ll retie your cravat for you. So the pearl decorative pin shows well.”

“Ah, I can do it myself…”

He tried to decline, but before he could wave his hands, Rita was already unwrapping the white cloth around his neck. Unaware his face had turned bright red, Rita focused on adjusting the cravat.

“…Ahem.”

“I heard about your exploits in the western sea. They say the pirate remnants now flee just seeing your flag?”

When she recited the deliberately exaggerated rumor in a cheerful tone, Viscount Lacardo scratched his head sheepishly and laughed.

“That’s all an exaggeration. I merely drove them away temporarily.”

“Still, we can rest easy for a while?”

“I’ll do my best so not only the western sea residents but also the capital’s ladies can feel at ease.”

Rita felt refreshed by his reliable, dignified answer befitting a soldier and smiled slightly. Around then, a group of royals and high officials returning to the audience chamber after lunch passed by. Rita bowed toward them, then sat back down to paint.

Thanks to her good handling, the portrait work ended smoothly in a pleasant atmosphere. She was about to return happily to her quarters with the canvas and painting tools.

“Lady Margarita.”

“Yes…?”

The one who stopped Rita was none other than Count Ferdinando. He was Gabriele’s direct aide who managed the Crown Prince’s Palace affairs under Gabriele’s orders.

“He summons you. This way…”

Following him in bewilderment, a lounge space appeared where officials would drink tea or clear their heads while handling government affairs. 

Today was the day before a holiday, and the official meeting had ended long ago. Therefore, the lounge was empty, and being in a remote location itself, it was very quiet.

“Why here suddenly…”

The moment she turned to ask, the lounge door that opened both ways slammed shut. Then came the sound of locking from outside.

“Excuse me!”

The flustered Rita threw down her painting tools and pounded on the door, but soon Count Ferdinando’s footsteps completely faded away. Behind the dejected her, a familiar voice spoke.

“Don’t think about escaping.”

“Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

She was confused. Of course, Gabriele had the right to summon her anytime. So he could just call her like last night, but she wondered why he’d go this far.

But somehow, the atmosphere prevented her from asking. Gabriele’s footsteps approaching the frozen her echoed in the silence. Finally, he picked up the fallen canvas in front of Rita.

“Is this today’s portrait?”

“…Yes.”

Being a relatively small work, only the finishing stage remained. The man’s bust brightly receiving sunlight against a darkly laid background seemed to capture not only physical features but personality thanks to the painter’s exquisite skill.

“He’s handsome.”

“…”

“Is that why? Showing him your smile carelessly, even touching his clothes yourself. Was it fun watching that clueless officer look at you all dazed?”

“…What?”

“Or are you trying to drive me crazy?”

Rita was the one completely dumbfounded. 

Forcing her unresponsive head to work, she realized only then that Gabriele had also been among the group coming and going from the audience chamber. 

He seemed to have watched the process of painting the viscount’s portrait closely.

‘Why bother?’

Though the Crown Prince had many other important matters, would he have time to look at such an insignificant scene as a court painter painting? And why was he so angry about it?

“You’re not planning to book another portrait appointment with that guy too, right?”

“What?”

Rita slowly realized the “other portrait” Gabriele mentioned referred to n*de paintings.

“No… no, how could you say such a thing! Like when my colleagues came to the palace before, you’re misunderstanding something. A painter’s job isn’t like that!”

“Who made me misunderstand?”

Flames of jealousy blazed fiercely in Gabriele’s purple eyes. He approached closely and asked.

“Are you sure you didn’t soak your underwear wondering about that guy’s thing?”

“I’m sure!”

When Rita cried out indignantly, Gabriele smirked and slyly slipped his hand under her skirt. With his gaze, he coldly looked down at Viscount Lacardo’s portrait lying on the ground, seemingly showing off.

The moment he rummaged through her underwear, Rita squeezed her eyes shut in dizziness. Her underwear that had been fine when entering the lounge was somehow soaking wet now.

“It’s wet.”

“No…!”

Sure enough, when he pointed it out, Rita frantically denied it outright. Gabriele scoffed and showed the hand he’d brought to her private area right before her nose. Transparent, slippery liquid hung between two fingers like silver thread.

“Then what’s this?”

“…”

“This won’t do. I have no choice but to teach you clearly even now.”

He took Rita to a sofa inside the lounge. After removing her underwear that was nothing but soaked, he sat her on top of him facing the same direction.

Click—the sound of unbuckling a belt buckle came low from behind. Rita had a premonition of what would happen next.

‘But why here of all places…’

The bewildering point was that a long full-length mirror stood right in front of them.

“Lift your skirt with your hands.”

“…But.”

“Hurry.”

Having no choice, she tearfully lifted her skirt hem, and Gabriele gestured like that wasn’t nearly enough.

“More. Wide open.”

Hesitating was useless. When she spread the white skirt hem all the way up, her s*x—red and congested, soaking wet and gaping—was fully exposed.

That sight reflected in the mirror right in front and entered Rita’s eyes without filter. Soon Gabriele, having pulled out his fully er*ect p*nis, commanded low.

“Put it in. Yourself.”

“Ngh…”

Escaping this situation was far too distant a thing. Rita inwardly listed all sorts of excuses, justifying her body moving as he ordered.

Gabriele’s thing was thick enough not to fit entirely in Rita’s one hand. Putting it in her narrow hole seemed impossible, but she knew through multiple experiences that it was more than possible.

“Mmh, ngh…”

When she rubbed the plump swollen gl*ns against her stickily wet p*ssy, a strange feeling climbed up her waist. 

When she aligned the direction and pressed firmly, the sight of the petals parting to both sides and swallowing the p*nis reflected starkly.

“Aah…”

The p*nis that entered for a while, spreading wide the inner walls that had been tightly closed, settled in place at some point like fitting perfectly inside. 

In that state, when Gabriele grabbed and lifted then lowered her waist, the flesh pillar could be seen spitting out from between the slippery inner wall gaps then sliding back in. 

Being a stimulating sight for both, Gabriele’s thing gained more strength and burrowed into Rita’s secret place.

“Haah, mmh. Mmnh…”

Her insides, trained by the stimulation he gave, squeezed the p*nis like welcoming with her whole body and dripped sweet honey. When Rita rocked her hips to gain more pleasure, the overflowing love fluids fell faster onto the chair they sat on.

“Does it feel good, Rita? Enough to shake your as$ yourself while dripping lewd water?”

“Mmnh, mmh…!”

“Look at this. It’s all wet.”

Rita’s eyes also saw Gabriele’s pants as well as the sofa getting messily stained with liquid from her shameful place. She felt like dying from embarrassment, but pleasure far greater than that numbed her shame.

“Hah, aah, mmnh… ah!”

“Watch carefully. Rita.”

Gabriele pulled down the front of Rita’s dress and kneaded her br*asts that had been oppressively constrained. When he kneaded the round br*asts protruding above the brown corset, the white flesh pressed by his large hand bulged between his fingers.

Rita in the mirror faced herself and him with a face flushed red to her eyes. It was a sickeningly messy sight.

He flicked Rita’s n*pples with his thumb and said.

“See clearly whose c*ck you’re impaled on.”

“Hngh, Gabriele…”

“That’s right.”

He smiled with satisfaction at his name coming from her mouth.

“Who could handle your lewdness? A fellow painter? A naval viscount? I don’t think so.”

“Hngh, ah.”

“Only I can do it.”

Gabriele’s rhythm penetrating inside her gradually quickened. Simultaneously, Rita’s inner walls also began tightening intermittently, more frequently.

“Haaah!”

Feeling she was ready, he moved rapidly and pounded. At Gabriele’s movements that seemed to know exactly where to attack to make her feel it, Rita helplessly cl*maxed as he led.

“…Ah!”

Gabriele, embracing with all his strength her who threw her head back and exclaimed, thrust his core in with momentum to penetrate her womb. His hot breath poured onto Rita’s nape.