* * *

That night he held Vienny as he always did – his hands insistent and persistent.

He had learned how to excite her, knowing exactly what would provoke a response. Despite her tortured state of mind, her body had grown accustomed to him. The pleasure that enveloped her was almost shameful, beyond her will to resist.

“Ah!”

The pressure of his er*ction filled her abdomen, no longer a mere annoyance.

Gasping for breath, Vienny peered through her blurred vision at McClart. Just as he had trained her body to respond, she was aware of his growing pleasure.

When pleasure overwhelmed him, deep lines would crease his forehead. Veins would bulge in his neck and he would unconsciously clench his jaw, forcing his lips into a straight line. His blue eyes, usually so clear, were clouded and sweat trickled down his flushed neck, carrying his familiar scent with it.

He had a habit of holding her tightly when he was at his peak, trapping her in his embrace regardless of her position, and it was in this confinement that she too was brought to the brink of ecstasy.

Just like now.

“Haah, h-hah!”

The big man pressed down on her, holding her tight. From the tip of his throbbing p*nis came another hot release, the intensity uncountable.

He rarely withdrew immediately after climaxing. Instead of withdrawing immediately, he continued to press against her p*ssy, the remnants of ecstasy lingering as he pressed deeper. The motion felt like he was coating her with every drop of his cum.

Each time this happened she marvelled at his seemingly endless endurance, surrendering herself completely.

But was this all part of his effort to make her pregnant?

The thought sent a surge of impulse through her, a desire to rid herself of all the s*men he had poured into her. But it was only an impulse; in reality she felt utterly powerless.

In truth, it had always been that way. As she thought about it, she realised that she had always been submissive. McClart’s change from a fierce to a friendly demeanour had not changed her situation; she had merely acquiesced to his goodwill.

“Are you crying because you like it?”

At his question, Vienny suddenly realised that the haze in her vision was due to tears.

As she hastily tried to wipe them away, his large hand moved to brush the tears from her eyes.

“Or does it hurt?”

The tears had barely been wiped away before they threatened to overflow. Vienny shook her head vigorously and replied in a choked voice.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“It hasn’t torn.”

He continued to stroke her gently, looking down to check. With a serious expression on his face, he seemed ready to call Moiria at the slightest hint of blood.

“I’m fine.”

As she spoke, the tears showed no sign of stopping, causing Vienny to press her palms to her eyelids.

How much easier would it be if she could just ask him openly? If she could ask if her half-sister had died and if that was why he was holding her so tightly. Did he want a child to carry on the Great Witch’s bloodline?

She couldn’t ask these questions because she lacked the courage to hear him confirm them.

She dreaded the confirmation that seemed almost inevitable.

“It seems I was hasty.”

As Vienny fought back tears, McClart seemed to come to his own conclusion.

“I was sensitive because of what happened during the day.”

His hands caressing her cooling body were unexpectedly gentle. Despite the distinctly s*xual nature of his touch, her heart began to race again.

He took her arms, pulled them away from her eyes and planted soft kisses on her tear-stained cheeks. The contact was ticklish, perhaps due to the unusual weakness she felt.

It was probably meant to soothe her, but instead she found no comfort in it. The assumption that this would help was clearly wrong.

“This is difficult,” he murmured, a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“The sun won’t rise for a while yet.”

To prove his point, McClart had not even retreated yet. He was a man who often pursued their intimacy in this way, and this time would be no different. In fact, it could be said that this was only the beginning.

The only difference was that Vienny had come to understand the implications of McClart’s relentless advances.

“If it hurts, just tell me.”

He whispered softly, nipping gently at her earlobe. The touch alone caused her breath to quicken. She felt the heat rise in her flushed cheeks.

“If you’re not happy, just say so.”

His hand, which had been kneading her br*ast, rolled over her n*pple, teasing it to hardness.

As her n*pple hardened, McClart leaned down and took it into his mouth. The forceful s*cking made Vienny gasp, her breath hitching in response.

As he leaned forward, his body naturally pressed against hers, his p*nis brushing against her. The sensation of the head of his p*nis sliding against her was vivid and intense. The heat that had subsided began to swell again, starting at her lower abdomen.

“Do you want me to go a little slower?”

He asked lazily, his tongue still swirling around her n*pple.

“Or how about you get on top of me?”

His large hand gripped her waist and firmly squeezed her soft br*ast.

It was one of the few places on her body that had some flesh, and McClart often took the opportunity to knead it. But this time, instead of gripping it tightly as he usually did, he stroked it gently, running his hand down to her thighs.

“They say it’s more stimulating for women.”

As a wave of pleasure washed over her, the tears she thought she had stopped began to flow again. McClart’s face, which had been a little clearer, became blurred again.

She bit her lip to stifle her sobs, trying to hold back the tears, but McClart noticed and quickly pulled her lip away with his fingers. Then he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers.

The deep kiss, where their tongues intertwined, intensified and she could feel him growing harder against her. His p*nis that had been partially withdrawn slowly began to push forward again.

“Haah… Shall I help you up?”

McClart pulled back slightly, his voice thick with desire as he asked.

Unable to speak through her tears, Vienny shook her head. McClart frowned at her reaction.

“You used to move so well… Ah, is it too hard for you now? I suppose holding on without fainting must be exhausting.”

Although she had recently gained strength, it was a valid observation considering that not so long ago Vienny had sometimes lost consciousness.

Convinced that her tears were the result of her physical struggle, McClart stroked her thigh gently.

“We’ll have to deal with your sudden excitement, won’t we? I’ll take it easy this time.”

As he peppered her tear-stained face with kisses, he showed no sign of stopping. Was he really just trying to relieve his own excitement? Or was it more about increasing her chances of getting pregnant?

“Ugh…!”

As McClart began to thrust again, an involuntary moan escaped her lips.

Seemingly emboldened by her reaction, his slowly moving p*nis began to pound her with greater force. The sounds of her discomfort mingled with her screams, making it seem as if her cries were born of pleasure.

As Vienny felt the er*ction move confidently inside her, she was relieved to be able to hide the true meaning of her cries.

“Ha, ha…”

His p*nis pulled back until the tip barely touched her v*ginal opening, then pushed forward again, spreading the narrow inner walls apart; it moved slower than usual, just as he’d said it would. A thick stream of cum and prec*m dripped out with each thrust.

The feel of it running down his hipbones was almost obscene. The sperm seemed to cool her p*ssy, which was still a little hot from the friction.

Her chest heaved and she gasped for air as the man’s large hand began to stimulate her cl*t.

“Ugh, yeah, yeah…”

Though already frustrated by the slower than usual thrusting, she instinctively began to wiggle her hips as her sensitive spots were stimulated.

Vienny looked up at McClart with tears in her eyes. McClart, completely absorbed in her breathless reaction to the pleasure, asked lazily.

“It’s better to finish quickly than slowly, isn’t it?”

Knowing it was a dark question, Vienny nodded, sobbing.

He smiled, obviously pleased, and then pulled Vienny into his arms, lifting her in one swift motion.

Vienny, her body lifted with her p*ssy still attached, clung to McClat’s neck in anger. He sat on top of her, his back to the head of the bed, and she sat on top of him.

“I’ll move, whoa… Just sit there.”

His p*nis was pushed deep inside her that she thought it would pierce the skin of her stomach.

Her breathing became harder as her lower abdomen heaved with each sob.

Holding her close as she gasped, McClart sunk his teeth into her neck. He sucked hard, then flicked his tongue over the spot where it had been pulled away, and judging by the tingling sensation, it must have been congested.

He seemed to be waiting for the struggling Vienny, not moving immediately, concentrating instead on creating bruises on his shoulders and neck.

His relentless actions, leaving his mark on her, were utterly baffling. If all he really wanted was a child, then this kind of caressing seemed like a pointless waste of energy.

“Is it bearable? Not too bad, is it?”

There was an impatience in the dark voice that couldn’t be hidden. Yet it was also surprisingly gentle, as if he was trying to reassure her.

She chastised herself for the ridiculous thought of being coddled, but it kept ringing in her ears. It was as if he took her pleasure, her struggles, her feelings into account.

Vienny let out a long sigh and rested her forehead on his solid shoulder. Tears streamed from her tightly closed eyes and soaked his chest.

Noticing the moisture on her chest, McClart tried to lift Vienny’s chin to look at her, but she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck first.

Maybe Gentian was wrong. Maybe this man was simply devoted to this bond.

Finally, she reached the point where she could rationalise her absurd thoughts.

To prove her fantasy, she buried her head in McClart’s neck and pressed her lips against his skin, just as he had done to her. His solid, muscular body instantly tensed in surprise.

As she awkwardly s*cked at his skin, causing a bruise, she could feel him take a deep breath. The arms that held her tightened with strength.

Unable to hold back any longer, McClart began to thrust her lower body up in earnest. A moan escaped her as she matched the pace of the pounding from below.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!”

“Whoa, sh*t.”

At the sound of her screams echoing in his ears, McClart cursed and tightened his grip. It was surprising how urgent his movements now felt, considering how patient he had been with her up to that point.

As her body slipped and shifted slightly with the sweat, he gripped her tightly and held her in place. His entire body tensed with muscle, focused on one movement.

With each up and down thrust, her firm, sweaty br*asts bounced and pressed against his chest. Her hard n*pples rubbed against his skin, causing another round of stimulation.

“Aaah, ah, ah!”

“Hmph, hmph, hmph!”

Grunts and moans intertwined and the pace of the p*nis thrusting into her p*ssy quickened. Again and again her vision flashed and a jolt of electricity ran down her spine.

After what seemed an eternity of deep thrusting, his c*ck finally spurted again. His thighs trembled intermittently as he cl*maxed at the same time.

Tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking McClart’s shoulder. Vienny clung to McClart’s neck, burying her face in it and sobbing for a long time. McClart caught his breath as he gently stroked her back.

“You’re crying extra hard today.”

Holding her waist, he gently lifted her up. Their bodies, which had been joined as one, separated as his p*nis slowly slid out, followed by the trickle of s*men he had ej*culated just moments before.

Vienny remained seated, facing McClart, even after he had withdrawn.

He massaged her sweat-soaked body, his hands pressing gently as if to soothe her aching muscles. Exhausted from the intense effort, Vienny lay limp against him, letting him support her completely.

The air around them was filled with the mixed scent of bodily fluids. The lingering heat and smell seemed to cling to her skin, enveloping her completely.

At first McClart touched her body gently, almost dutifully, but then he suddenly changed. His lips moved to her neck, brushing against her skin. He pulled her small frame closer, kissing her neck and ears, an undeniable hint of longing in his gestures.

Vienny, her head resting on his shoulder, felt the touch of his lips on her skin and thought again. Perhaps Gentian had been wrong. Doing all this just to obtain a witch’s bloodline seemed excessive, even excessive.

“…Inquisitor.”

At her soft call, McClart stopped and raised his gaze.

When Vienny gently lifted her head, she could see his face up close. She thought it would be difficult, but surprisingly the question came easily.

“Does Chiron no longer want the power of the Great Witch?”

His blue eyes, clouded with unfulfilled desire, seemed to regain some clarity. Vienny watched him closely, silently noting the change in his expression.

He stared at her wordlessly for a moment before lowering his head to kiss her. His tongue slipped between her parted lips, resulting in a deep, penetrating kiss.

The intensity of the kiss, almost crushing in its force, made Vienny clutch McClart’s neck to keep herself from falling backwards. His tongue explored, their saliva mixed, and the pressure of his rough lips caused her skin to tear slightly, drawing blood. But he did not pull away easily.

Out of breath, Vienny pounded weakly on his chest, and only then did his insistent lips finally release her. He clicked his tongue quietly, muttering a complaint that she still didn’t know how to breathe properly.

She wanted to argue that it wasn’t her inability to breathe, but rather the unusual length and intensity of his kiss. But she was too breathless to say a word.

In the end, Vienny leaned her forehead against his shoulder, her exhaustion evident.

Her eyes ached and felt sore, perhaps from all the crying. No doubt they would be puffy and unsightly by tomorrow. As her heavy eyelids drooped, Vienny buried her despair deep inside, pushing it into a dark pit in her heart.

He never answered her question.

The next day, Vienny heard the news that MacClart had decided to leave, forced to tame the raging demons. There was no other choice.