“Ah!”

Another wave of blinding white pleasure swept through her body.

Like a coastline drenched by lingering waves, her already soaked body was carelessly moulded and kneaded by his hands.

Now hypersensitive, every touch made her flinch and tremble. Unable to bear it, she clung to his back with tear-stained cheeks, her fingertips digging in.

“Grey…”

Not knowing what else to do, she held on, but he brushed her arms away indifferently.

The sunlight, still strong, streamed through the window and cast its glow on his face.

He didn’t seem to notice, but the irritation in his expression was obvious.

“It’s hard to move when you’re hanging on.”

At that moment, it felt like she’d been cut, like a paper-thin slice across her chest. A chill ran through her, sharp and sudden.

But before the sting could subside, pleasure surged through her, wiping her mind clean.

The desk in the office began to rock slightly to the sensual rhythm of his hips.

He was pushing so hard that she felt she could slide right off the edge at any moment.

But she couldn’t bring herself to wrap her arms around his neck again.

“Ah!”

Each time he hit the same sensitive spot he had found before, her body trembled in response.

The sharp, electric sensation radiated to the tips of her fingers and toes, draining her of all strength. Her arms gave out, falling helplessly to her sides as if numb.

Almost as if he had been waiting for this moment, Grey gently turned her over and guided her onto all fours.

What lay before him was breathtaking – her flushed, peachy curves resting on the stately, dark wood of the desk, its rich grain so deep it almost appeared black-red in the afternoon light.

A warm, creamy liquid trickled down from between her thighs.

The sight alone sent a rush of heat to his head, leaving him breathless.

Without hesitation, he sank deep into the soft, yielding warmth that welcomed him completely.

“Hnngh!”

Taking him from behind was overwhelming.

Her inner walls, already swollen and flushed, instinctively tried to push him out, but that only made things worse.

“Stop squeezing so hard.”

He growled like a wolf, biting the back of her neck.

As he thrust his hips upwards, Regina jerked.

The sensation of fullness was so extreme it felt like she might burst.

Yet her chest, pressed flat against the hard desk, felt hollow and empty in contrast.

His firm torso held her down, radiating heat like the sun-warmed rocks by a stream where she’d once laid to dry on a summer’s day.

That was why Regina couldn’t understand it even more.

‘Your chest, pressed against mine, is searing hot—so how can the inside of you be colder than a well in the dead of winter?’

As if to crush those fleeting, tangled thoughts, Grey moved with wild abandon. Her body, already trained to respond to his pleasure, heated steadily.

His thrusts were so strong that it felt as if they were pulling her sensitive inner walls out with them, and his large, powerful hands held her trembling hips firmly in place.

“Ah!”

A wave of excruciating pleasure swept through her lower body, making her so dizzy that her vision was blurred.

Tilting her head back, Regina gasped for air and closed her eyes.

She could feel his gaze sweeping over her – over her prominent shoulder blades and the narrow curve of her waist.

In the middle of the day, in his office, with her skirt pulled up and her body racked with sobs – how must this humiliating sight appear to his cool, unreadable eyes?

Did he see her as nothing more than a lewd woman? Did he look at her with contempt?

But he wasn’t cold at all.

If anything, he was burning hotter than ever.

He gripped her writhing body with all his might, buried his face in her falling hair and rammed into her with unrelenting fervour.

The sharp slaps of skin echoed in her ears, as if her bottom was being slapped again and again.

Just as she thought she was being driven through the desk, she felt a rush of heat bursting from deep inside her.

Grey wrapped his arms tightly around her ribs, almost breaking them, his intermittent breaths filled with the lingering haze of intense ecstasy.

She was relieved.

At least he seemed to want her body.

“Regina.”

His voice, once he had caught his breath, was as dry as ever.

He lifted Regina’s limp body and gently pulled her skirt down.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I was worried I might have overdone it.”

His hand released her, and in the silence that followed, his look said it all: “If you’re all right, you should go now.” In a way, she was grateful.

The chill of reality quickly cooled the lingering heat on her skin.

Through the closing door she caught another glimpse of Grey – already leaning one arm on the desk, reviewing a business proposal.

To him, she was nothing more than a completed task.

‘Right. He’s always been like that.’

But what stung more was the disappointment she felt in herself.

Back in the empty bedroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror – a dishevelled mess that might as well have announced she’d just been rolling around with a man.

She asked the maids to heat some bathwater and slowly slipped into it.

Watching the water cloud between her legs, she felt a strange, heavy sense of shame.

What was so special about a married couple making love?

And yet… why was it such a big deal to her?

Why did she have to care so much?

She hated it.

“Grey…”

His name reminds me of footprints pressed deep into winter snow—faint, cold, and lingering.
When I say it out loud, it feels like frost on my tongue.

I hate you for not loving me.
And yet, I love you—despite that bitter truth.

Maybe that’s why it feels like I’m trapped in a winter that never ends.

***

The moment Grey saw the tea offered by the customer, his forehead twitched in displeasure. It was only for a split second, so the other party didn’t notice.

“Thank you, Count Cabil. We really appreciate you allowing our trading company to stay in the harbour of Kapten. We promise to repay you with only the finest goods.”

The head merchant was clearly eager to win even the slightest favour from Grey in the short time they had.

“Please wait a moment. We’ve prepared a small token of appreciation, and we hope it pleases you…”

It looked like they wanted to shower him with gifts.

To be honest, they would have made a better impression by simply offering him a cold drink.

As soon as the merchant left, Finley pushed a pitcher of milk towards Grey.

“Here. Add some milk at least, my lord.”

Grey didn’t refuse and emptied the jug without hesitation.

“I hate hot tea.”

“I should have warned you.”

“It’s fine. They’re already itching to tear me apart for being an arrogant young noble—no need to hand them more ammunition by acting difficult.”

Cloudy tea was not to his taste. But in Wailin it was customary to drink at least one cup of whatever your host offered.

He hated hot drinks. More than that, he hated the pointless time spent waiting for them to cool.

“Bloody hell. We’re not masochists who enjoy burning our tongues—why does anyone even drink this stuff?”

“It’s just a polite deception, isn’t it? A social custom. An excuse to linger a little longer with someone, sipping tea while it cools to the right temperature.”

“If people have that much time to waste, they should spare some for me.”

Grey clicked his tongue, then unexpectedly laughed.

The rare smile on his usually unreadable face took Finley by surprise. He stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Why… why are you smiling like that? It’s kind of disturbing.”

“I was just thinking about Regina. The first time we had tea together, she served it boiling hot.”

“Poor woman… She must have liked you very much, my lord.”

“She said it was love at first sight. It was cute how hard she tried not to show it.”

Grey was a businessman. And like any businessman, he’d started out as a trader – someone who had to read people’s eyes and know exactly what they wanted.

In Regina’s case, it was even easier – because it was all about him.

The way her eyes followed him instantly when he moved, the way her cheeks flushed when he spoke to her, the way her posture tensed and her breath quickened when he stared at her for too long.

He had seen all these signs in women who had dropped handkerchiefs in front of him.

And yet Regina was different.

Though she had already given him her heart, she was desperately trying not to show the slightest sign of opening.

‘I like you. But I hate that I like you.’

Her eyes screamed it at him – clinging to his skin like burrs one moment, then shaking off like dust the next.

The more she resisted, the more determined he became.

It amused him to see her visibly affected and yet gritting her teeth to hold out.

And yes, it made him a little angry.

‘I didn’t expect her to cling to me like this back then.’

Through her long, dark hair, her profile – her eyes lowered with grace – seemed aloof.

She would respond with warmth and gentleness if spoken to, but her cool appearance had always made it difficult for other men to approach her.

So he’d misunderstood.

He thought she would remain cold after marriage – that her coldness would complement his warmth.

Who could have foreseen?

That once in love, Regina Odair could burn as hot as a scalding teacup.

The heat she radiated had startled him. But perhaps he had been too complacent, too sure that, like any tea, no matter how hot, she would eventually cool down.

“She’s a woman who doesn’t suit me in many ways.”

The careless murmur drew a reaction from Finley.

“Really now. If you’re going to complain, then why did you marry her, my lord? She’s such a pitiable woman.”

After a moment of thought, Grey let out a cryptic smile.

“Good question.”