The swollen head slowly pushed past her folds and into her entrance, stretching it. Fingers had never been enough; she could feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate him. Her v*gina clenched with each subtle inch he pushed forward.

She could feel Zephion’s gaze fixed on her. Was he watching to see what expression she wore as he took her? Instead of covering her face, Reina gripped the sheets tightly.

His *rect p*nis slid in slowly, the sensation so vivid that it made her shudder. The head parted her folds and the shaft pressed into the tender ridges within. She could feel every detail of his p*nis, from its girth and shape to the searing heat.

The insides of her thighs trembled. Even though he was moving slowly, waves of dizzying pleasure bloomed.

“Mmh… ah…”

She writhed beneath him, sighing breathlessly as she raked her nails down his back. His taut muscles rippled beneath her touch and he shivered with each red mark she left behind.

His *rect p*nis pushed deeper and deeper inside her. When her entrance fluttered and clenched around him, he filled her completely. A ticklish ache spread through her p*ssy, making her crave to be filled to the brim with that hard, *rect p*nis.

Her mind blurred under the flood of arousal. Tomorrow’s execution, the hatred, the misery — everything faded away.

“Ha… ugh…”

Zephion groaned deeply and clenched his teeth as he gripped her hips tightly. With one powerful thr*st, he drove himself in to the hilt. His ragged breath escaped against her sweat-dampened chest.

Reina’s slender body arched back. Even with just that, a faint cl*max rippled through her, sweeping over every nerve in her body.

“Ahh… ah…”

Her lips parted, but only breathless gasps escaped. Zephion raised his head, his golden eyes fixed on her, and began to move his hips.

The swollen head dragged roughly against her inner flesh, sliding out and then pressing back in again. With each stroke, it rubbed against her overheated walls, drawing helpless m*ans from her.

With every deep thr*st, obscene, squelching sounds echoed between them. Her belly tightened and twisted around him of its own accord.

“Haah… ngh…”

“Hh…!”

Gritting his teeth, he exhaled roughly as her wet v*gina engulfed him. His *rect p*nis spread her reddened entrance wide, sending waves of dizzying pleasure through her body.

Their soaked bodies clung together, pulling apart only to meet again. Each sharp thr*st sent a thud, thud through the air, the old, narrow bed creaking as though it might collapse beneath them. The force of Zephion’s body was inescapable, the shudder of the bed echoing through her frame.

Reina stroked the sweat-slick nape of his neck and the muscles of his back. As he gazed quietly down at her, his lips descended again.

“Mmh… mhh…”

Neither could say who began it; their tongues tangled, desperately drawing each other in, kissing until breathing itself became difficult. Their eyes met mid-kiss, and in those golden depths, she saw only herself—just as in the days when they had loved each other.

His huge p*nis pressed deeply upward, and her v*gina clenched in response. Her legs tightened around his waist, and a sob-like m*an spilled through her reddened lips.

Zephion’s tongue slowly traced across her saliva-slick lips before he lowered his head again.

“Ah… ahh…”

Her vision blurred. With his face buried in her neck, Zephion’s back trembled faintly. His hips, which had moved fluidly until then, slowed slightly. Yet even then, each thr*st still struck her most sensitive spot precisely, causing her body to twist beneath him.

The pleasure was so sweet that it bordered on pain. Reina stroked his dark hair over and over again, feeling dizzy. She knew that an overwhelming cl*max was approaching faster than ever before.

For the first time, she did not resist the sensation. She welcomed it with her whole body.

“Hhhk… ah, ahh!”

Her hips shuddered violently. Every muscle in her body tensed and then shook uncontrollably. Her v*gina clenched tightly, arousal spilling over and soaking the sheets beneath her.

Zephion panted harshly as he thr*st into her, stimulating her quivering flesh even as she continued to quiver in the throes of cl*max. With each withdrawal, her overheated walls clung stickily to him. Each deep thr*st sent slick warmth spilling around them.

The pleasure didn’t stop. It surged on and on, whether because it was the last time, because of Zephion, or perhaps because of both. The ecstasy was greater than anything she had ever experienced before, consuming her from head to toe.

She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching his body with desperate strength. Her mind went blank. Was this what it would feel like if the world held only the two of them? She couldn’t feel the rough sheets anymore—only the sweat-slick p*nis of Zephion’s skin. His ragged breaths. The thick hardness filling her v*gina. The thunderous pounding of his heart. The faint tremor in his back.

“Ha… ah…”

Barely regaining her senses, Reina stared blankly up at the ceiling.

‘Is he… crying?’

That was the first thought that came to her. The shoulder where his face was buried felt damp. She couldn’t tell if it was from sweat… or from tears.

There was no sound of sobbing, yet his large body trembled faintly.

Instead of asking if he was crying, she closed her eyes and gently stroked his back.

“……”

His arms held her so tightly it nearly stole her breath.

It felt good. She was certainly feeling pleasure. And yet… she almost wanted to cry.

Her eyes flew wide to hold back the tears. The man pressed his forehead against her shoulder, breathing out hotly. She couldn’t tell if it was mingled with a sob… or not.

It seemed he had no intention of showing her his face. Zephion’s embrace, crushingly strong, felt almost feverishly warm.

“Zephion.”

She called his name softly.

No answer came. As though the only thing left for the two of them was to join their bodies. Silently, they only held each other tighter.

The night was far too short.

***

She could not sleep. Tomorrow, it would all end.

Seated on the bed, Zephion gazed quietly at the sleeping woman as the window slowly brightened with dawn. Perhaps because of the dim, gray light, her face looked even paler than usual, almost as if she were already dead.

Carefully, he raised a hand to her nose. He felt the faint warmth of her breath.

After a long moment, once he had confirmed she was breathing, his hand slowly traced her cheek.

“Mmm…”

As if sensing his touch, Reina shifted slightly. His long fingers gently brushed through her hair, the soft strands tickling between them.

“……”

He tucked the pale-platinum locks behind her ear. There, her white earlobe gleamed faintly with a red jewel. The low-grade stone gave off a dull light, its value clearly meager.

Zephion gazed at it in silence.

‘Why is she still wearing this…?’

Had she truly loved him?

The moment the thought arose, he gave a bitter smile. Impossible. This was a woman he could never trust. The very one who had made him what he was—like this.

Of course, he had succeeded in taking his revenge. But it was Reina who had driven him to such misery, when he could have died honourably there and then.

And yet, despite knowing that, there were moments when he wanted to believe her. When he looked at her earrings or met her vivid violet gaze, he sometimes felt as though everything she said was true.

The gentle touch of her hand stroking his back. The quiet embrace of her arms. The legs that pulled him closer by the waist. The face that revealed such pure pleasure, as though they truly were in love. When they made love, it almost felt as though they had gone back to when they lived together. This thought left his heart feeling unsettled.

‘Love, is it.’

Wasn’t she a woman who could fabricate such a thing without effort? He tried to steel himself, yet again and again, a dangerous thought stirred—what if.

What if Aaron truly was his son? What if the Reina he had seen during that single season together had been the only “real” part of her life?

Zephion gazed quietly at her pale face, then clenched his fist tight.

The red earring caught his eye.

Even knowing it was dawn, Zephion knocked at the emperor’s bedchamber. The guards tried to stop him, but shaking them off wasn’t difficult.

“Your Majesty.”

How many times had he struck the door before a voice, sharp with irritation, came from within.

“Enter.”

At the command, he opened the door without hesitation and stepped inside.

The woman within, her face weary, frowned as she tied the sash of her robe.

“To think the guards couldn’t even stop someone from pounding at my bedchamber door. I’ll have to replace them.”

“…Spare her.”

Though he offered no explanation, the emperor seemed to know immediately whom he meant.

“No.”

At that, Zephion dropped to his knees without a moment’s pause.

“Please, Your Majesty… spare her.”

“Marquis Zephion Baltgar. Surely you know what that name means.”

“I have never asked Your Majesty for anything.”