By the time the days had blurred together, it must have been the third. She had taken little, if any, water—surviving only on what he gave her. Her body had lost all strength, moving limply in his grasp, as fragile and weightless as a paper doll.

“Hhhht… ahhh…”

Lying prone beneath him, taking him in, Ines shuddered as his body pressed close to her back, his lips closing over the curve of her ear.

His tongue, warm and slick, traced a slow path upward until it brushed the corner of her eye. Her eyes squeezed shut on instinct—the skin there already raw from three days of torment—only for him to murmur in a gentle, almost coaxing tone,

“Shhh…”

That single sound was enough to make her force her lids open, however weakly.

Who was it that said the one who falls first in love is the one who loses?

Even if what they shared was not born of love, in this relationship, the loser was undeniably her.

As his tongue traced the corners of her eyes, tasting every inch, her body tensed and squeezed around the p*nis inside her.

Her body, accustomed to pleasure, could climax from such slight provocation.

“Mmhh… hhhuuhh…”

Her voice, hoarse from overuse, could barely form a moan. All she could do was pant, taking in everything he poured into her. She didn’t even realize when he released inside her—only clutched at the bedding beneath her fingertips.

“Haa…”

Even after he had finished, he continued to move. His hips rolled slowly, prolonging the sensations he experienced against her inner walls.

All the while, he kept his mouth on her face, licking and teasing her until her tears finally dried up. Then, as if he felt regret, he moved his mouth to her nape.

His tongue dragged over the marks where blood had pooled, tasting the faint remnants before curling his lips in satisfaction.

He pressed his nose into the bruises and inhaled deeply. Burying his face in the dip where her shoulder met her neck, he rubbed himself against her, as though marking her.

Something about this cycle was different.

Instead of relentlessly thrusting, he kept touching her—hands wandering over different parts of her body.

“Mmhh—!”

After three days of him rubbing her swollen, hard cl*toris with his fingers, it throbbed violently when he pinched and rolled it again. She couldn’t keep still; her hips jerked as if trying to escape the overstimulation.

But whenever she tried to move away, he pressed his weight down on top of her, trapping her completely.

Throughout this ordeal, he restrained her mercilessly every time she tried to resist, as though it were a punishment.

Their bodies pressed together from head to toe, he moved slowly and smoothly inside her as though swimming through water. With each thrust, his steel-like length tore through her depths.

“Mmhh… ughh…”

He teased her cl*toris with his fingers while kissing the nape of her neck. His mouth soon moved down to her shoulder, his teeth grazing the curve before he lowered his body onto hers and entered her with hard, heavy thrusts.

Her relaxed walls opened wide with each thrust, gripping tightly again and again. Her juices flowed freely, mingling with the s*men that had pooled inside her. Together, they slid down his p*nis.

Lucien withdrew slowly, then slammed back in with force, his flared head raking hard against her inner folds on the way out.

“Ahh… hhht!”

Still biting at her shoulder, he licked down the line of her spine, his upper body curving over hers until their hips pressed even closer.

Releasing her cl*toris at last, he gripped her lower belly instead.

“Hhhuuhh—ahhh!”

His fingers pressed firmly inward, and the resulting tightening of her walls made his breathing grow ragged—almost animal-like.

He drove into her relentlessly until, with a short, guttural groan, he came deep inside her.

She could feel the heat radiating from him as her own juices began to flow. When it flowed between her thighs like water, he caught some on his fingers and sniffed it.

The strange intimacy of it made her flush so intensely that she couldn’t lift her head. Yet her gaze sought him of its own accord.

When she turned to look at him, her eyes flew wide open.

“Why…”

He licked up the moisture that had dripped from her, the sheen on his large hand disappearing into his mouth.

She stood frozen with shock, but edged forward hesitantly in an attempt to escape. However, he caught her easily. He turned her around and forced her legs open.

This time, the cycle was truly different.

“Lu… cien, stop…”

The humiliation of having herself exposed so plainly in his view was unbearable. In all three years they had spent nights together, she had never shown herself to him like this.

His actions seemed almost deliberate—yet he still gave no sign of hearing her voice, moving with the same unyielding force.

Lifting her thighs higher, his gaze locked on the parted bloom between them. Then, without warning, he bent down.

Seeing his broad shoulders dip so close made her squirm, struggling to break free of his grasp—but it was useless.

“No—don’t!”

The sudden heat of his tongue brushed her cl*toris. Realizing his intent, she shook violently, begging for him to stop.

“Please… stop!”

The thought of presenting herself to him in this state, all wet and covered in their combined fluids, was unbearably humiliating.

“Ahhkh!”

At first, his wet tongue moved softly over her, circling her cl*toris before drawing it into his mouth. He pressed the tip of his tongue firmly against it, as though coaxing something out.

This unfamiliar stimulation caused her legs to tremble and her body to reach climax far too easily. Soon, she could no longer tell if what she felt was an org*sm — her mind was steeped in pleasure and incapable of thought, and her mouth opened wide only to let out cries.

He lapped at her cl*toris relentlessly, and when a sudden gush burst from the small opening just below it, he caught it in his mouth as though he had been waiting for it.

“Uhh—hah—don’t…”

The shame of coming in front of him was unbearable. Yet he drank it all in without pause, leaving her unable to think straight.

She placed her hand on his shoulder and told him to stop, even scraping her trimmed nails against his skin so as not to leave a mark, but he didn’t move.

Still bent low, he drank from her repeatedly until, suddenly, he smacked her backside sharply.

slap.

“Ahh!”

“Ss…”

“Lu… Lucien…”

The strange sense that he could somehow understand her made her waver.

She was afraid.

He was afraid that he might suddenly become lucid and ask why they were doing this. She was afraid that, once he was lucid, he would look at her with disgust. The mere thought chilled her to the bone.

The hand that had struck her now caressed her bottom with disarming gentleness before returning to torment her cl*toris with wild, dizzying motions. Wave after wave of sensation broke over her, and she spilled helplessly into his mouth.

She lost count of how many times he had brought her to such a climax. As her consciousness began to fray, worry set in. She told herself that she couldn’t collapse, gripping her own thighs hard enough to hurt in an attempt to stay awake.

Then she realised that the stimulation had stopped.

Her body, dulled from being used and sucked so much, registered nothing. Lowering her head, she saw that he was resting his face against her lower belly as if it were a pillow, his eyes closed.

“…”

At first glance, he almost looked as if he were smiling with satisfaction. Without thinking, she lowered her hand to trace the smooth line of his cheek.

Even now, her feelings for him made her willing to forgive him for everything.

After three days of tears, her eyes were dry, yet they burned as though scorched from within.

Feeling ashamed and miserable, she could only hope that he would never find out.

Thinking she might collapse if she stayed any longer, Ines forced herself to stand up. She tried to hide her battered body beneath her clothes, but the marred, discoloured nape of her neck could not be concealed.

Still, she had to leave the room. The faint, repeated knock from earlier had been urging her to leave.

When she opened the door, the head maid was standing there. Her brows drew together the moment she took in Inés’s condition.

She made no attempt to hide the contempt in her gaze. Inés instinctively raised a hand to cover her neck and hunched her shoulders.

“…This time went on a bit longer, so Her Ladyship has been waiting for you.”

“…Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

The head maid showed no concern for Inés’s state of mind; only impatience. With no other option, Ines followed her.

As they walked along the seemingly endless corridor, she wondered how much longer she would have to continue like this.

It felt as though the ground beneath her feet was sinking away. Her feelings for him grew heavier with every step.

The light in her face was fading, but no one noticed — not even Inés herself.