Chapter 11

Silvery hair fell, and a calm gaze quietly watched it. As if not wanting to miss a moment, persistent and relentless.

Erich gazed at her for a long, long time… but he didn’t actually move. Even as he expressed a more intense, cold passion through his eyes.

Facing that gaze, Beatrice tilted her head. A hint of doubt, and an unavoidable anxiety gnawed at her heart.

Was he not going to do it?

Why? What’s the problem?

Just as she was swallowing her agitation, Erich finally responded. Fixing his observant gaze on her, he slowly moved his hand.

His beautiful hand, veins standing out, slid up her thigh and began kneading her bottom beneath her underwear. The gentle caress made her hips twitch instinctively.

“What counts as once?”

“…What do you mean, ‘counts’?”

“You said just once this time. Does it mean you cl*max once, or I do?”

Beatrice was about to reply that her cl*max should be the standard.

The curse seemed to be alleviated through fl*id exchange. So, her reaching cl*max should be enough to halt the curse’s progress.

But.

With a bad feeling, she reversed direction.

“You cl*max.”

“Ah… How sad.”

Erich let out an obvious sigh of disappointment. Still kneading her bottom, he spoke in a gloomy tone.

“It would’ve been more fun to pick the opposite.”

“……”

“Why did you suddenly escape your blockhead intelligence, Beatrice…”

Isn’t he crazy?

Beatrice nearly yanked the man’s hair below her, but held back.

She definitely didn’t want to explore why the opposite would be more fun, especially since the one saying “fun” was Erich von Schwert, not herself.

But Erich seemed determined to find his own amusement.

His fingers paused again.

Sitting n*ked on his knees, Beatrice gritted her teeth and twisted her body. She wanted to shudder, but his arms holding her torso were impossibly strong.

The body of a martial artist trained in energy was said to be like steel.

She didn’t want to realize that here. Beatrice reached back and scratched the nape of his neck. Erich breathed hotly into her ear, seeming satisfied by the sting.

“Move…”

“I am moving.”

His index and middle fingers parted her softened walls and invaded again. His thumb pressed firmly against her already swollen cl*toris.

The forcibly halted pleasure surged again. Beatrice spread her thighs wider, trying to focus on the stimulation below.

How his thumb scratched her cl*toris. How his index and middle fingers snipped inside. How he pressed and tickled sensitive spots, and so on.

But just as her hips were about to arch further,

Erich mercilessly pulled his hand away.

Then, he wiped his wet hand on her spread thighs. The sensation of moisture made her feel vulnerable, and the man tormenting her was so annoyingly clever that Beatrice gritted her teeth.

“Ah, why do you keep stopping!”

“I was going to explain why the opposite is more fun.”

“I wasn’t curious! I picked right from the start!”

If he was going to act like this, she didn’t want to do it at all. Beatrice kicked at the air. She struggled hard, but his damned arms holding her waist were strong as ever.

“Let go, you bastard…”

Erich lightly bit the nape of her neck.

“I thought your curses would improve.”

While she was thinking up creative insults, his index and middle fingers spread her again, and his thumb demanded an obvious cl*max.

Her hips twitched again. Beatrice reached higher, burying her hand in the back of his head instead of his neck.

“Uh, hng…”

Her toes tingled.

He knew her too well. With just a few fingers, he could gift her a cl*max.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling his hand inside her more clearly. His long fingers went deep, and Beatrice’s insides gripped them tightly.

D*mn it.

Her insides, not her eyes, would probably memorize his hand more clearly.

Feeling his hot breath at her ear, Beatrice moved her hips slowly, like riding a horse. Helping his hand give her even clearer pleasure.

Just a bit more. Just a bit more…

Maybe because the pleasure had been heated and halted several times, the pure ecstasy felt even more desperate. Her belly tightened in anticipation of cl*max.

When his fingers pressed a sensitive spot deep inside,

Erich gently bit her ear, and Beatrice cl*maxed. Her inner walls trembled uncontrollably as he withdrew his hand, laughing softly.

As her s*x released fl*id, he pinched and teased her cl*toris until the very end, heightening the pleasure.

“If it ended like this… It would’ve been disappointing, right?”

“……”

“Did it loosen up well below?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t see, so you have to tell me.”

Beatrice didn’t even pretend to look down. She just felt the strange sensation of air on her heated s*x and the languid exhaustion after cl*max.

“I can’t see either.”

“Really? That’s disappointing. A mirror would’ve been nice.”

“Why a mirror?”

You seem even more perverted after all these years, she was about to say, but nearly bit her tongue.

Apparently, the mirror thought she’d called it, and bounced over to them.

“Don’t…”

Go away!

Her desperate cry didn’t even escape. Erich quickly covered her mouth, laughing.

It was a devilish laugh.

A demon’s laugh.

“Ah, Honey…”

He pressed his lips to hers, sighing lazily.

“That’s why I like you.”

That crazy bastard. 

Beatrice cursed him with her expression.

Erich moved, wrapping her tightly in his arms. They rolled off the bed onto the floor.

In the blink of an eye, she was pushed to her knees against the mirror. Her chest pressed against the cold surface, sending a shiver through her body.

Her loosened insides released more fl*id.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes, glaring at the man behind her reflected in the mirror.

The hand that had covered her mouth slipped away, and now his fingers were in her mouth. Beatrice bit them firmly.

Regardless, Erich stroked her s*x with his other hand. Checking the flowing moisture, he smiled annoyingly.

“Looks well loosened.”

There was no need for a mirror.

Unable to speak, Beatrice cursed him again with her eyes. And the d*mn man, who hadn’t learned mind-reading, smiled brightly again.

“No, Honey. I told you.”

She didn’t know when he’d pulled down his pants, but the gl*ns started tapping at her entrance. Half in, half out, Beatrice moaned, leaning against the mirror.

“Ah, hng…”

“Open your eyes, Beatrice Winter.”

Beatrice opened her eyes, staring at her own twisted expression.

The gl*ns pressed her entrance again. Her face flushed even more. The shaft began to enter. Preparing for penetration, maybe even anticipating it, her insides twitched.

It was a truly maddening sensation.

She couldn’t open her eyes wide, but couldn’t close them either. Beatrice watched herself gasp, impaled on the shaft.

“I told you, hng, didn’t I?”

“Uh, uh, mm…”

As the penetration continued, she melted. She was thoroughly wet, erotically flushed, and completely surrendered to pleasure and desire—a loser’s posture.

“When I penetrate, your expression. It’s so dirty-hot.”

His member pressed deep inside, mercilessly thrusting. The lack of hesitation made it even more relentless.

He didn’t stop.

He pushed in without restraint, stirring her up. Spreading her to the limits, his pubic hair brushed her s*x.

Beatrice instinctively grabbed the mirror, panting. Ugly handprints appeared on the cold surface, not just one but several.

The cold surface of the mirror urged her to keep her sanity. Warned her not to swing her hips shamelessly for pleasure.

Hold back. 

She pleaded with herself. 

Please, hold back. Don’t show it.

Her blue eyes watched her struggle to endure the stimulation.

Until she managed to lift her eyelids and meet his gaze.

She gulped down a breath.

…Captured by starving eyes.