Chapter 47

As Karel pressed against the upper part where his pillar entered, the fluid seeped out along their joint. Karel thought that this was the woman crying because of him.

Shati’s pelvis involuntarily jolted from the relentless pleasure.  

“Or is it you, uh, suddenly being so impatient?”  

“That’s… Ah, uh…”  

He liked it. He liked seeing this small, fragile woman with that pitiful face cry because of him. He liked her crying in a way only he knew, during a private moment no one else could intrude upon. He liked her clinging to him, holding onto his cloak, entrusting her life to him…  

Thump, thump, thump! Holding back the rising urge to climax, Karel repeatedly thrust into the deepest part of Shati.  

“Ah, it’s too, uh, painful, uh, deep… uh… good…”  

Was it pleasure or discomfort?  

The witch’s varied moans kept capturing his gaze, and Karel felt his already firm manhood grow even larger. The woman’s inner walls, scraping against his movements, gripped his member more fiercely with every thrust.  

Shati, dulled by intoxication, felt tighter inside than usual. Her murmured words, unguarded and honest, spurred Karel to push into her inner walls again and again. His thick tip stirred her folds, creating a storm of stimulation.  

Each climax sent Shati plunging into the depths of an abyss, only to rise back into the clouds that filled the air densely. She drifted endlessly, like a ship lost at sea without an anchor, moaning continuously.  

Just as she had left Oedel, relying on this man’s shallow kindness to survive.  

‘If possible… have a child.’  

She clung to the fragile relationship Selma had declared could only last if there was a bond to sustain it.  

“Uh, uh, Sir Knight, Sir… please, hold me… hold me…”  

Shati, drunk, was more demanding of him than usual. It was a sort of tantrum, and Karel willingly responded. He muttered under his breath, annoyed, irritated, calling her a temptress and a harlot. Yet, he embraced her without hesitation. He held Shati’s back firmly, pressing her chest against his until her br*asts flattened against him. With repeated thrusts, he buried himself into her deepest parts.  

Shati’s slender legs barely wrapped around the man’s sturdy waist. As the man, twice her weight, pressed down on her, there was no part of her skin untouched by his. Beneath his muscular body, Shati gasped for breath, clinging to him with all her remaining strength.  

This man had led her away from Oedel.  

To the one who had given her a future where she wouldn’t become the concubine of that old, savage man. To the one she had chosen, even if this fleeting whim could’ve ended after just one or two nights. To the one she gambled everything on.  

He could treat her as a stain on his life, and she wouldn’t mind.  

If he had left a mark, it would remain forever. She wouldn’t bother him, and she’d always wait quietly.  

She would turn this fragile relationship into one that couldn’t be broken.  

Silently swallowing such resolutions, Shati wrapped her thin arms around the man’s neck. Her hands trembled weakly from gripping the saddle handle all day, but since Shati rarely initiated physical contact, Karel hesitated for a moment.  

“You’re the one clinging first.”  

“Uh, yes, that’s…”  

“You talk too much.”  

“Ah, uh, sorry, uh…”  

To reassure her that he didn’t mean for her to stop speaking, he followed with a gentle kiss. Their tongues intertwined, and the taste was sour. It was the residue he had hurriedly sucked in earlier. Shati swallowed even that sweetness.  

Breathing heavily, moaning, she clung to Karel’s tongue as if it were a lifeline, while his manhood relentlessly pierced and stirred her.  

This tongue never spoke of love. It never said he cherished Shati. It never promised her a lifetime together. It never offered any sweetness.  

But he was the man she had staked her life on.  

The man who accepted her gamble, even while threatening her with surveillance and warnings.  

And the man who returned to her every night.  

Thus, Shati thought he was simply clumsy.  

Despite his strong and beautiful appearance, his noble lineage, he was a man full of scars and immaturity.  

And that he held her in his heart.  

What shape that affection took, she didn’t know. She didn’t dare call her feelings love either.  

But at least, he held her every night and carried her in his arms throughout their journey.  

Thump, thump, thump, thump—the thrusts accelerated, and the large bed began to slam against the back wall more violently.  

“Ah! Uh, uh, uh…”  

Her most sensitive spot was repeatedly crushed by the man’s girth, spreading her folds wide open. Her heated flesh, even when rubbed against his coarse hairs, foresaw only pleasure, not pain. Her legs, exhausted from holding on to the saddle all day, couldn’t resist the waves of pleasure.  

Utterly drained, her trembling legs convulsed, while their joined bodies soaked the tangled hairs between them with clear, warm fluid.  

The exhaustion caused Shati’s lips, which had been sucking on Karel’s tongue, to lose strength as well. Only then did Karel pull away from her face, forcing himself once more—yet again—into Shati’s deepest place.  

Squish, squish—the sound of his pillar and the sac beneath it, wet with her fluids, echoed rapidly.  

“…Ugh.”  

As he thrust deeply into Shati’s most intimate part, he quickly pulled out with one final motion. There was barely time to grasp and shake himself. Shati’s peculiar behavior had heightened his climax so much that he almost spilled his seed inside her.

The viscous white fluid, unable to shoot far, pooled thickly near the golden hairs of the woman’s lower abdomen, hinting at the precariousness of the moment.  

Shati simply collapsed, her body limp. Her chest heaved in time with her labored breathing, and the pungent fluid that had trickled onto her mound slowly slid down toward her thighs.  

Karel used the bathrobe he had stripped off Shati earlier to roughly wipe himself clean. Normally, after their intimate moments, Shati would catch her breath and then take care of him. But considering this was her first time enduring such a long journey, it was understandable that she was exhausted.  

Only then did a slight annoyance creep into his thoughts about himself for having taken advantage of her worn-out body. He should have grown accustomed to acting like a lust-driven beast whenever he was with this woman by now… Muttering self-reproach under his breath, he reached for the bell cord to call for bathwater.  

“Ugh.”  

A sudden surge of stimulation from below made him glance downward, where Shati’s shimmering eyes were fixed on him from beneath his waist. Her delicate hand gripped his still-slick member, as though to stop him.  

She had been lying there as if she would collapse at any moment, yet now, without being asked, she held him in her grasp?  

Karel exhaled sharply through his nose, looking down at her in disbelief.  

“It’s… not enough.”  

“What?”  

“You’re not satisfied with just once either, Sir Knight…”  

Her words, spoken as she knelt before him and moved her hand slowly, carried a certain weight. In truth, his arousal had never fully subsided, and with each stroke of her hand, his hardness returned.  

This is maddening.  

Shati’s attempts at seduction had never been skilled. Compared to the noblewomen and courtesans who had thrown themselves at him, her efforts were clumsy, rough, and unpolished.  

And yet, damn it all…  

“Have you forgotten what you did all day today?”  

“But…”  

“You’ll have to ride just as much tomorrow.”  

“Does that mean… I can’t?”  

“Why are you so persistent about this?”  

Though his words were firm, his body betrayed him. His tip had already begun to throb, a clear, sticky bead forming at its peak.  

“…Ugh.”  

When Shati, watching his face, pressed her thumb against the small indentation at the tip, a deep furrow appeared between Karel’s brows.  

Her grip, surprisingly weak, was a far cry from the strength she had displayed while carrying multiple beer mugs at Selmane’s tavern. Karel had never been satisfied with what she did with her hands. No, her touch always brought him to the edge of climax, but compared to the way her inner walls gripped him as if to devour him, her hands felt loose.  

Now, with her arms drained of strength, her movements were even weaker.  

If not for the fact that he was hopelessly aroused by this woman, no one would find satisfaction in this touch.  

So, there was no other choice.  

He had no option but to give in once again to the temptations of this wicked witch.  

“…I won’t delay the journey because of you.”  

“Of course, you shouldn’t.”  

Even as he drew this response from her, Karel stared blankly at Shati for a long while. His manhood, already pulsing for greater pleasure, contrasted sharply with his composed expression.  

Shati’s eyes, gazing up at him, trembled as though on the verge of tears. She seemed afraid of whatever rejection might come from his lips.  

What she wanted from him was so little that he couldn’t deny her. His body, his embrace, and the protection that required no effort from him.  

He had said he wouldn’t delay the journey, but he was the one who didn’t want to leave.  

When he thought of those waiting for him back at the royal palace.  

When he thought of the countless women who desired so much from him.  

His life. His strength. His power. His strange status as the illegitimate heir of Montferdia.