Chapter 8

“Haa, haa.”

As Neria parted her lips, the reddish folds were exposed. The joining was so lewd it was almost excessive. Aaron’s throat bobbed. His mouth was dry.

“Ahhhh…….”

Neria closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his shaft rubbing her sensitive inner walls.

When she peeked, he was biting his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut.

Neria stroked Aaron’s ear. His face said he disliked it, but his lower body and ears were flushed the same red.

She placed both hands on Aaron’s broad shoulders and moved slightly. But this position was anything but easy. Her knees hurt against the floor, and her thick thighs trembled with every movement.

“It’s too hard, Your Grace.”

Neria whimpered again. Aaron, who’d kept his eyes closed, now glared at her. But his blue eyes held none of the usual contempt.

“It’s because of you.”

Aaron muttered in a rough voice. Before Neria could reply, he moved—amazingly.

“Ah!”

Thud—Aaron thrust upward from below.

The deep penetration brought a dull ache, but pleasure soon followed. Neria’s lower body instantly lost strength, and she collapsed into Aaron’s arms.

“Ah! D*mn! D*mn it!”

Aaron gritted his teeth. He didn’t rejoice at being able to move or see it as an opportunity. He simply moved by instinct.

“Grr, hng!”

Sweat-soaked hair was roughly pushed back as he gripped her waist and thrust hard. He poured all his passionate desire into her.

His gaze was fixed on the lewd sound of their joining. The moist, slippery mucous membrane felt incredible.

He glanced at her moaning, pale face, but still couldn’t recognize the witch’s true identity.

“Ah, ahh! Hng, ngh!”

Her moans fanned the fever in his mind, and he found the sound pleasing.

Before he knew it, the proud military academy uniform Aaron wore was a wrinkled mess. Normally, he couldn’t stand to see his uniform wrinkled. But now, the sweat-and-fluid-stained clothing didn’t bother him at all.

“Ah!”

Even while bewitched and thrusting wildly, the dream’s setting continued.

The expressionless, businesslike faces of the illusions spoke to Aaron, who was sweating and thrusting.

“Thank you for your congratulatory speech, Senior.”

“You’re my role model, Senior.”

Isn’t this insane?

But the crazy one was himself.

Sweat dripped from Aaron’s chin.

“You depraved witch, ngh. No shame at all… In front of the cadets, grrr…”

“You’re the one who tore off my shirt buttons, ngh, Your Grace, ah, ah, ah!”

Aaron grabbed her bouncing chest hard. The first time he’d touched a woman’s br*asts, they were so soft he wanted to bite them—just like pudding.

Then, Neria, overcome by pleasure, thrashed in his arms. Her insides twitched and squeezed. Aaron hugged her twisting waist tightly.

“Ah, ahh! Ah!”

“Haah, haah……!”

Thud—just as they pressed close, s*men exploded out. A subtle, musky scent rose from between their thighs.

“Ahaaah…….”

Neria, feeling a powerful org*sm, rested her forehead on Aaron’s shoulder. Strictly speaking, she hadn’t moved herself, but she was still breathless. Her hand instinctively went to Aaron’s chest.

‘He’s really grown.’

Neria stroked Aaron’s chest with her eyes closed.

Meanwhile, Aaron, naturally stroking the witch’s back, suddenly froze.

‘……What am I doing?’

He couldn’t understand his own actions at all.

***

In a rattling carriage racing somewhere, Aaron leaned deep against the backrest with his eyes closed.

His face looked peaceful, but his mind was full of worry and confusion.

‘Why did I do that?’

Things were getting stranger and stranger.

No, to be precise, his own mind was.

They say humans are creatures of adaptation, but was he getting used to the shame the witch gave him? Now, the depraved, perverse s*xual advances didn’t feel unpleasant.

Rather… he felt a sense of anticipation.

‘Dangerous, this is dangerous.’

He had to do something. Aaron decided he couldn’t keep losing his purity like this. What he’d lost was just dream-virginity, so maybe it was all an illusion.

But.

His fist clenched tight on his thigh.

‘Is emotional virginity not virginity at all?!’  

Aaron’s thoughts spiraled into a fundamental question: did emotional loss have no value in suffering?  

No, that wasn’t the point. The witch’s cruel yet seductive attempts were expanding into new territory.  

Her slender, l*st-filled fingers teasingly tickled that wrinkled place, clearly meant for expulsion…  

Not here yet…?  

She was saying things like that!  

Recalling that dizzying scene made Aaron’s temples throb. How had he gotten through that crisis?  

Ah, yes. In the dream, Aaron had squeezed his eyes shut and pleaded, almost begging.  

I don’t want to go against biological function… Please.  

A memory so pitiful it couldn’t be recalled without tears.  

Hehe. So, not yet, right?  

……  

‘D*mn, I’m breaking out in a cold sweat.’  

“Um, Your Grace…?”  

Thankfully, his aide Dagon pulled Aaron out of his tangled thoughts.  

Exhausted in body and mind, Aaron answered with his eyes closed.  

“Why?”  

“You weren’t sleeping, were you? I wanted to let you know we’ll be arriving at the temple soon. Here, take this.”  

Aaron forced his tired eyelids open. Across from him, Dagon pulled a hooded cloak from the clothing case under the carriage seat.  

It was a high-quality monk’s hood. It was a subtle way to express that he didn’t want to attract attention during his unofficial visit to the temple.  

Aaron accepted the cloak and glanced out the window. Beyond the long avenue stood the grand temple. Ascetics and pilgrims walked slowly in the same direction as him.  

As soon as he donned the monk’s hood, Dagon asked curiously,  

“But why are you suddenly going to the temple?”  

“I need sincerity.”  

Aaron replied calmly.  

“You’ve lived well without it, haven’t you?”  

“……”  

He had. Until he started having those damned dreams.  

“Your Grace, you seem tired lately. Haven’t you been sleeping well?”  

Aaron glanced at Dagon, who was genuinely concerned. Should he tell his loyal aide about the problem he was facing?  

‘…No, I’ll never say it!’  

Aaron bit his lower lip lightly. How could he say he was possessed by a l*st demon?  

“Your Grace?”  

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.”  

Aaron replied nonchalantly and pulled the hood lower. Dagon tilted his head but didn’t press further.  

He felt sorry for not easing his loyal aide’s worries, but he absolutely couldn’t reveal he was being sexually tormented by a witch.  

Otherwise, there’d be two victims.  

‘The witch’s l*st is a problem for me alone to handle.’  

If Dagon ever encountered her and fell into depraved desires, Aaron would be furious.  

He refocused on his own problem.  

In fact, he’d secretly been researching the witch. Most of the remaining records were nonsense, but he read them anyway.  

‘Witches who used sorcery two hundred years ago weren’t omnipotent. They sensed others’ desires and slipped through the cracks.’  

So, if the depraved witch was targeting his desires and invading his dreams, then was Aaron Denicar’s “crack” his unresolved l*st?  

Aaron frowned, forming an unpleasant, dirty hypothesis.  

‘Then, if I satisfy my desires enough, will I stop having those dreams?’  

It wouldn’t be hard to find a woman for one night, but doing so just to resolve l*st was utterly revolting.  

Regardless of status, the idea of having s*x with a woman he didn’t connect with made him feel sick.  

Aaron’s expression soured, and Dagon quickly handed him a water bottle.  

“Thank you.”  

“It’s nothing. But what are you thinking about so deeply?”  

“……”  

Aaron ignored Dagon’s question and continued his thoughts, only to be hit by a new shock.  

‘But right now… I’m doing it in dreams with a woman I don’t connect with.’  

Surprisingly, since the last dream, he’d been experiencing not only shame but s*xual excitement.  

When he woke from those shameful dreams, his pajamas were always soiled. Worse, because his desire wasn’t fully resolved, he always had to relieve himself afterward.  

Only the witch’s hands and body brought him pleasure. Realizing this made him want to tear his hair out.  

Meanwhile, the carriage, traveling diligently, came to a stop, and the coachman up front announced their arrival.  

Dagon, as if waiting, got out first and held the carriage door.  

He had already notified the temple of Duke Aaron Denicar’s visit at the entrance before the temple road began. He emphasized it was a private, ordinary visit, not a grand one.  

Aaron wasn’t particularly religious, but he’d donated generously, so a high-ranking priest was discreetly waiting to greet him.  

“Welcome, Your Grace.”  

Aaron nodded briefly, jaw tense.  

He withheld words because his mind was unsettled, but the priest took it as a sign not to waste time on formalities and got straight to the point.  

“May blessings be upon you, Duke. I heard you’ve come to pray. I’ll guide you to a quiet, undisturbed place.”  

The temple had areas open to all and a main hall for worshippers to hear the word. Beyond that, nobles had their own spaces. High-ranking nobles were led to personal prayer rooms.  

Dagon, being of noble birth, tried to follow without thinking. But Aaron stopped and turned to him.  

“Dagon, I’d like you to wait until I finish my personal prayers.”  

“Excuse me?”  

Dagon was both aide and bodyguard. There was no reason for Aaron to send him away. He hesitated, but Aaron’s gaze was firm.