Chapter 4: A Maid To Be Tamed (Part 3)

After that, Bieren frequently lifted Lizbeth’s skirt and undid her b*ttons, even in places where they might be seen. He reached for her as soon as they were alone, even if it wasn’t inside a bedroom or study. No matter how lascivious he asked her to do, she would not refuse; his c*ck, far from growing cold with disinterest at the sight of her, had gotten used to her. Lizbeth was startled and protested when he lifted her skirt in the hallway where someone might pass by.

“Master, if someone passes by…”

“You’d better be quiet. Do you want someone to overhear our lewd sounds and spread rumors?”

Bieren undid the b*ttons of her maid’s dress, showing off her exposed chest. He reached inside her clothes after unb*ttoning three or four buttons and squeezed her br*asts, kneading them firmly in his hands. 

The sensation of her ample br*asts yielding to the firmness of his hands against her chest made Lizbeth moan as she leaned against the wall.

“Hah….”

“They seem to get bigger the more I touch them.”

He marveled as he fondled her br*asts. Rolling her n*pples between his fingertips, they hardened quickly, eliciting a soft whimper from Lizbeth. The more he explored her body, the more he thirsted for her. When he slid his fingers between her legs, her moistened hole swallowed them eagerly. Lizbeth clamped her mouth shut at Bieren’s touch, but she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped.

“Mm, ah…”

“You used to struggle with one finger, but now you can swallow three with ease.”

Bieren exhaled a breath filled with excitement; he was thinking of tying the maid up in his bedroom in the not-too-distant future, making her spread her legs and take his c*ck. On the day the Duke died and he inherit and became master of the castle, he planned to burst the fruit of his patience by ramming his c*ck into her hole, thrusting it so far into her c*nt that it wouldn’t even close, and then shoving it back out where it would leak c*m. Just the thought of plunging his m*mber into her endlessly leaking hole made his excitement surge.

“M-master, please, I c-can’t…”

“Is there another maid eagerly awaiting her master’s desires?”

With a voice trembling with excitement, Bieren embraced the maid as she sobbed softly, murmuring in a low voice. He saw her lips parted as if requesting to be sucked, so he bent his head down and swallowed. It was their first kiss. His lips were sweet, and his tongue was as soft as what she felt when he licked between her legs. As he intertwined their tongues and sucked them deeply, Lizbeth, within his embrace, seemed to struggle to catch her breath, turning her head away and spitting out her tongue.

“I’m sorry. Huu, I’m out of breath…”

Her face, flushed like a fresh rose, was charming. Despite their intimate encounters between her legs, it was the single kiss that intoxicated her face with romance and made her blood rush to her cheeks. Bieren longed for the day when he could confine her in his bedroom and fill her hole with his c*m.

Even when he commanded her to grip her br*asts and poured wine, or lifted her skirt in a hallway where people might pass, Lizbeth never expressed her dislike. She seemed to accept anything he ordered, as long as it was with him. Her attitude only fueled his impatience. He couldn’t understand why she accepted him so willingly.

The uncertainty of the source of affection frightened him even more. 

Was it because I killed a snake for her? Tended to her injured ankle? No, maybe it was simply because I was there during those moments.

All these questions terrified him. Therefore, he needed to confine her quickly. No one should know that his maid could develop affection at the slightest hint of kindness. Bieren was infuriated at the mere thought of his maid looking at someone else with such eyes filled with affection.

* * *

“The doctor said tonight might be a turning point.”

The butler brought the grim news. Bieren was unmoved by the news that his father’s death was fast approaching. His father had been suffering for too long. He had been bedridden with illness since Bieren was ten years old, and hadn’t gotten out of bed in quite some time. Bieren had accepted the inevitable separation a long time ago. He flipped through the papers and asked.

“What about Mother and the stable hand?”

“They will probably escape tonight. They’ve already arranged for a boat in the La Manche Harbor.” 

The butler said with a sigh. The stable hand was young and sturdy, with a face that would set any woman’s heart aflutter. Yet he remained just a stable hand. For a woman of noble birth, such as a Duchess, fleeing with a mere stable hand away from a dying duke was a disgrace to the Etterland family name.

“Do you want me to stop them?”

The butler hesitated, looking at Bieren buried in paperwork before speaking. Despite the Duchess’s messy affairs, she was still his mother. It was unthinkable to leave behind a dying husband and only son.

“Why should I stop them?”

Bieren asked, unable to understand. His mother was inherently that kind of person. As a child, Bieren had despaired, but slowly he had come to accept that one day his mother would leave the Duchy of Etterland. Bieren turned to the butler, who bowed his head in remorse.

“We’ll take one of the bodies from the almshouse and bury it beside my father’s. We’ll pretend the duchess died of grief over her husband’s death.”

The butler’s mouth dropped open at Bieren’s cold words. Even as the butler pointed out the barbarity of his behavior, Bieren had no intention of changing his mind. He merely looked at the frozen servant and issued a dismissal.

“That’ll be all. You may leave.”

Bieren sat in the leather chair and looked out the window. In the distance, he could see the dense forest, and in the garden, ripe red fruits hung from the trees. It used to be a place where the Duke and Duchess, free of illness and worries, had once played with him as a child. Tomorrow, they would disappear from this scene, leaving him alone. The rose garden caught Bieren’s eye.

‘…Roses, I like the scent of roses.’

His young maid had said she liked roses. On days when she used soap made from finely ground dried roses, he hovered around as if he wanted to smell the scent. He remembered how happy she had been when he gave her that rose perfume. Bieren recalled that tomorrow, only the maid would remain in the mansion where everyone else would leave. 

She would be by my side.

Lost in thought, Bieren spotted his maid strolling through the rose garden outside the window and frowned.

“What is she doing?”

A shrill voice burst from his mouth. Lizbeth was with the gardener. The gardener was a head taller than her, with a muscular body that looked as if it had been trained by carrying packages. Lizbeth took the bunch of roses he offered her and smiled broadly. When Bieren saw her radiant smile, he felt his rationality thinning like a thread.

‘Ah, Master…’

Bieren remembered Lizbeth calling out to him. Her n*pples hardened with every touch, and her inner walls melted with his fingers. At that moment, when he thought about another man touching her, his anger surged. Bieren sprang to his feet and pushed open the door to the study.

“Young master, the bath is ready…”

Bieren passed by a servant with angry steps, not even considering summoning Lizbeth. All he could think of was entering the scene where he found Lizbeth with the gardener and dragging her away himself. Throughout his descent down the stairs, he remembered Lizbeth crying out that even a single touch between her legs was painful.

‘Oh, please, it’s too big, it hurts…’

Feeling the tightness around his finger as if it would cut him, he had thought he was the first man to invade her. Each time he poured out his desires, her tears convinced him that he was her first man. Bieren had no way of knowing what other women’s firsts were like, for Lizbeth had been the first woman in his life. So, he was uncertain whether Lizbeth was a woman who met a man behind like the Duchess or not. Thinking so, he pictured Lizbeth crying out under the gardener.

‘Ah, it’s, it’s, it’s too much!’

How many men could come to their senses when they heard her moaning and writhe her back in that damned pretty voice? Just as the Duchess had f*cked the stable hand without the Duke’s knowledge, Lizbeth might have f*cked the gardener behind Bieren’s back. Just as her affectionate gaze had turned to him, it might have turned to someone else, and he had foolishly believed it was only for him. In the moment of betrayal, he realized, paradoxically, how much he had trusted the maid’s affection.

Bieren had hoped to disgust Lizbeth with lewd acts so that she would lose interest in him. However, he found himself behaving like someone who wanted to confirm Lizbeth’s affection for him. He was testing her to see how far she would take him, cunningly and arrogantly.

As he looked at Lizbeth laughing with the gardener, he realized that the one being tested was not Lizbeth but himself. He had mocked the maid’s heart, thinking she would give up anything for him, yet he had trusted her. Without trust in Lizbeth, he couldn’t explain the icy feeling of betrayal overwhelming him.