Her face, flushed a peach like the glow of Doha, and her wide-open violet eyes seduced him like a blooming red spider lily.

He could finally understand the heart of a dying bee, drawn in by the scent of nectar.

He buried his face in her hair and nape, inhaling her scent deeply. He wouldn’t have minded suffocating like that.

Eventually, the front of her dress slipped down. The sight of her delicately curved collarbone and pale n*ked br*ast erased everything else from his mind.

At that moment, there was nothing left in the world but her and himself.

“Ah…”

His hand, running under her skirt, burned hot enough to scald. His hands were so large that when one cupped her thigh, she jumped in surprise.

“Don’t you like this?”

His words, like his mind, had shortened without him noticing. His navy blue eyes, once like a cold winter’s night, now burned with a glow like heated coal.

She looked at him, startled by the almost shocking change, and perhaps misunderstanding her gaze, he clenched his jaw.

“If you don’t want this, push me away. I can still stop.”

A slap would be better. He whispered that as he took her wrist and brushed his lips across her palm. His half-lidded eyes were sultry and red, melting like sticky toffee – sweet and dangerous.

Regina couldn’t push him away. Even when they fought like they were ready to kill each other, their bodies – damn it – were always in perfect sync.

“Don’t be afraid.”

He murmured as he planted a soft kiss on her eyelid.

“I won’t hurt you. I’ll be gentle… ah, damn. You’re so soft.”

His fingers, exploring her skin, grew increasingly impatient despite his words. He ran his hand over her again and again, unable to believe the silky feel of her skin, finally covering that narrow, sensitive spot.

The damp heat seeping through the thin fabric was enough to drive him mad.

“You’re so wet already, my lady.”

At his teasing remark, Regina squeezed her eyes shut. Seeing the crinkle in her nose as she winced as if about to cry, he suddenly wanted to bite it.

“I can’t help it.”

She confessed hesitantly, as if she hated to admit the truth.

“When you touch me like that, how can I not…”

He exhaled softly, a small sigh escaping his lips. There was no doubt – this woman drove him mad.

His fingers moved over her with practiced care, like a musician coaxing melody from a finely tuned instrument.

The more he touched her, the deeper her moans became – low, breathless sounds emanating from her slender throat, drawing him in like a drug.

The way she clenched around his fingers, the sharp little gasps, the faint sweetness of her sweat and the delicate pink that blossomed on her skin…

It was all too much.

And then, with a shudder, she threw her head back, trembling, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

“Grey…”

Her voice, desperately calling his name, trembled with a hint of tears. It was as if someone had poured hot syrup into his ears – his eardrums melted at the sound.

Why did a shiver run down his spine?

Growing impatient, he began tugging at his clothes. All the blood in his body had rushed to a single point and it felt like he was about to burst.

The clothes, which had never felt uncomfortable before, were now pressing down on him like a heavy weight, making them difficult to remove.

It didn’t help that Regina was pressed so tightly against him – it made it even harder to get undressed. When he pulled away briefly to do so, she shook her head.

“We shouldn’t be doing this…”

If she really didn’t want to, Regina shouldn’t have said it like that. Because it wasn’t intentional, the subtle push and pull only pushed Grey further over the edge.

Summoning what little gentleness he had left, he planted a kiss on her forehead, damp with the strands of hair that clung to it. At that moment, a cry – almost a scream – escaped her.

“Ah!”

Regina ran her hand over her stomach, her eyes wide. What just went inside me?

‘Did something tear or burst?’

Her eyes were filled with confusion, almost as if the questions themselves had taken shape and floated to the surface.

Damn, she looked unbearably cute.

“…! It… it got even bigger…”

That kind of innocent reaction did her no favours. Grey, unable to resist, began to move – slowly, gently. It wasn’t as if he could be rough, even if he wanted to; she was far too small and tight for that.

“Regina.”

Instead, he pulled his wife into his arms and gently brushed their lips together. He stroked her hair like feathers and savoured her like a tiny drop of lemon rolling in his mouth.

“…Regina.”

Every time he said her name, she blushed a little deeper – and became a little more adorable.

There was no way he could stop saying her name.

“Regina.”

The tightness inside her began to loosen. The walls that had resisted him now clung to him, soft and yielding, like cookie dough melting in the heat.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. Like a wild horse breaking free, he began to thrust with unbridled force.

A shiver of pleasure shot up his spine, taking his breath away. Each time their hips collided, a scream escaped Regina’s parted lips – sharp as if she’d been struck.

If her trembling voice contained only pain, he might have stopped. But the unmistakable heat in her moans, breathless and eager, was intoxicating. And yet the way she kept pulling her hips back, as if trying to escape, irritated him.

“Ouch!”

He grabbed her slender ankles and lifted her up. The voluminous folds of her skirt cascaded down her stomach and chest like a waterfall – it was a breathtaking sight.

It reminded him of the luxurious gift wrapping he used to tear apart as a boy.

‘Does that mean I’m acting like a teenage boy right now?’
The fleeting question vanished without ever finding an answer.

As he sank deeper into the tight, smooth warmth that drew him in like a relentless storm of pleasure, everything else faded from his mind.

There was no room for strategies or careful planning – this wasn’t business.

All he needed was to fill her completely, to move with force and purpose, again and again, until he hit every spot that made her tremble.

It was raw, primal instinct – simple, wild, and more than enough to set his blood on fire.

“Hhngh…!”

The sensation of it pressing in was overwhelmingly vivid. Its shape – especially the blunt tip followed by a narrower ridge – made it feel like a thick lollipop kneading her insides.

Each time he adjusted the angle slightly, hitting a different spot with precision, her body responded against her will.

She’d long since gone wet, as if she’d lost control, and now electric jolts of blue-white heat flickered through her vision, making her head melt into a daze.

Every place he entered, every bit of skin he touched, pulsed with aching sensitivity. It was as if this man’s very existence was made of something illicit, like a forbidden drug.

In her tangled thoughts, a memory from her single days suddenly surfaced: a hushed conversation she had once overheard between seasoned noblewomen.

“A man needs thick thighs to be good in bed.”

“No, a flexible, firm waist is better.”

“But above all, it’s best if he’s young and handsome.”

When she was innocent, Regina rubbed her burning ears in embarrassment.

But it wasn’t until after her wedding night that she truly understood the meaning of that daring conversation.

Even then, Regina couldn’t bring herself to agree with the other women.

For her, the strongest *phrodisiac wasn’t touch or desire – it was love.

The way his eyes saw only her, the way his hands moved over her neck and shoulders with a quiet reverence, as if she were something to be cherished – it softened her heart in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

But… did the heart also have an impulse?

What if the feelings she had struggled to let go of were surging back – only to take root deeper than before?

Nervously, she reached out to fight him, but he gently pinned her hands to the desk.

Then, lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers – playfully but lingeringly – before delivering a light, teasing bite.

“Ah!”

“I must have been too lenient with you. You even have time for stray thoughts.”

The reins he had barely held back snapped all at once. His strokes became noticeably rougher – pulling back, then thrusting in again with fierce intensity.

The soft, almost inaudible sounds of w*tness grew louder, rising with the wave of pleasure that washed over her like a tide.

She gasped, afraid she would drown in it.

“Those documents on the desk are all important. It would be unfortunate if they got wet.”

The body was a fickle thing.

By the time her dull mind registered his words, her lower body had become even wetter.

“Suck it up and don’t let it spill, my lady.”