He raised his brows and rubbed the swollen, blood-filled nub.

“Mmh, that spot feels strange too… Hah.”

“You liked it last time.”

He rubbed his whole palm roughly over her, as if telling her not to lie. The sharp sensation made Freya’s head fall back.

“Ah…!”

“Freya, your position.”

The stinging pleasure loosened the grip of her hands on her legs.

Every time her posture slipped, Aslan pressed down on her or gave her a light smack there, as though punishing her. Freya startled each time and quickly corrected herself.

She had no presence of mind to call out his bad habit.

Was it because it didn’t hurt as much as the spanking? Or was it because even that felt good?

While that sensitive place was rubbed and worked over, Freya panted with ragged breaths and let out soft, tearful m*ans.

“Hh, ahh. S, stop now. Mmh…!”

His plan was to take care of her and lift her mood after sulking.

And just as he expected, Freya forgot her anger and gasped mindlessly in pleasure. Her tear-streaked face was *rotic.

He thought she was simple. That was also part of what made her cute and appealing.

Intense pleasure spread through her whole body and Freya’s body bucked. The way she stretched to her toes and trembled was primal.

He gave her no time to rest and flipped her over immediately. He gripped her arched waist to hold it in place and pressed his hips against her.

“Ah…!”

He thr*st up into her in one stroke. The slick opening, like a dam breaking, took him in without resistance.

Freya couldn’t even scream. She just opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, and her reaction looked anything but comfortable.

Yet her inner walls clenched hard around him, squeezing tight enough to feel like a hand at his throat.

He pressed his rough hair against the faint handprints left on her bottom.

“They say going in from behind reaches deeper. How is it?”

“…Ngh, ugh.”

“No presence of mind to answer, it seems.”

The tip met the wall inside her. It was clearly deeper than face to face.

He leaned his body forward and ground his hips down into her. Pinned flat beneath his heavy body, Freya let out muffled m*ans.

“Ugh, hh, it’s too much…”

“Doesn’t it feel better going in deeper?”

“Mmh… No.”

“Not good?”

“It hurts, it hurts. It feels like my stomach is going to burst, ah, mmh…”

A sniffling sound reached him. It felt so good to him his head was going numb, but Freya clearly wasn’t feeling the same. Aslan pulled back with reluctance and straightened up.

She hung limp, as though the aftermath still lingered in her body. She dangled from his hands like a marionette with its strings cut.

“Hold onto my neck so you don’t fall backward.”

“L, like this?”

“Yes.”

Freya climbed onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Facing each other like this, her heart began to race.

It was because Aslan stared at her so intently, like he wouldn’t miss a single one of her reactions.

‘My face must look like a mess.’

Her eyes were red, her face was puffy, and she thought she drooled a little. Showing him her wrecked face was embarrassing, so she dropped her head.

“I can’t see your face. Lift your head.”

“But…”

The moment she shook her head, her bottom lifted and dropped back down. His hands rocked her hips, and his c*ck pulled out and plunged back in rapidly, over and over.

“Ah, mmh, ah…! S, slowly.”

“Lift your head, quickly.”

“O, okay, okay. Mmh…!”

Freya sniffled and lifted her head, and only then did he ease his pace.

“Haah, you have such a strange personality… I was completely fooled…”

She was fooled by the act of being innocent and kind. He was actually cunning and rotten to the core. Freya muttered resentfully under her breath.

Aslan gave a small laugh and ran his hand down her curved back.

“And yet you disliked that side of me.”

“When did I?”

“You always looked annoyed whenever I was being timid.”

Whenever he failed to speak up, kept his mouth shut, or acted without confidence, Freya’s face would scrunch up.

She would look at him with effortless contempt, as though wondering how a man could be so pathetic.

And when he tested her by saying he wanted to see her again, what happened then? She glared at him with her face all twisted up.

Anyone watching would have read it as her wanting nothing to do with him. He quietly felt relieved, thinking he wouldn’t have to see her again.

He disliked exhausting, rude women too.

What he couldn’t understand was how she kept showing up despite clearly despising him.

She barged in without warning and took his window seat, then yawned like she was bored to death and left in a huff.

‘If she disliked it, she didn’t have to come.’

Why did she keep appearing and stirring up his otherwise peaceful days? If she was going to do that, she could at least stop being so prickly.

A troublemaker who showed up with no clear business or purpose, splashed around in a still lake, and disappeared.

After she came and went, it took a long time for the muddied feeling inside him to settle.

Still, he couldn’t treat Freya carelessly. He saw her talking to Haakon, king of Vaigon, without any formality at the dueling grounds.

The last thing he needed was to irritate someone in a high position and make his own life harder.

He thought that if he was dull enough, she would poke around a little and then lose interest.

‘I didn’t think it would come to this.’

Aslan looked up at Freya, her eyes and the tip of her nose flushed red, and his lips parted slightly.

Why did he give in so easily to her confession? Was he touching something dangerous?

If this relationship went wrong, his already precarious life as a hostage would become even more unstable.

He knew all of this, and still he couldn’t push Freya away.

The insolent, rude woman. The woman who looked at him with such contempt. The woman who was free and fearless in the world.

Now she was flushing red and watching him nervously.

‘She’s cute.’

This smaller version of Freya struck him somewhere deep in his chest.

“If you found me boring, why did you keep coming?”

Struck at the heart of it, Freya couldn’t argue back and just opened and closed her mouth. Aslan took her br*ast into his mouth as it swayed before him.

“Was it a bet? Did you win a bet and then go around spreading rumors?”

Should that be called a bet? She only made a bold declaration to defend the pride of Vaigon’s women. Freya’s brow furrowed.

“The confession that you liked me was a lie, wasn’t it? Hmm?”

She couldn’t answer, and Aslan bit down with his teeth, as though finding her infuriating. A bite mark formed on the white mound.

Freya shook her head in a hurry. The dark, narrowed look in Aslan’s eyes sent a chill through her chest.

“Th, that’s not it. At first it was just curiosity, but…”

“Hmm.”

He let out a skeptical sound and gripped her bottom hard, like a pinch. Pain flared from the crushed flesh.

“Hngh.”

She trembled and dropped her head, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Her skin still stung. The memory of that sharp, striking hand came back to her and her nose prickled.

Suddenly she felt resentment toward him.

How could he hit her that hard? How dare he punish her. She was never even hit by her mother.

“Ngh, my bottom hurts.”

“Sorry. Then was that confession genuine?”

“Mm, yes…”

Aslan stroked her bottom in slow circles and smiled prettily. Then he continued with gentle, easy movements, as though coaxing her sulkiness away.

“Then why didn’t you come for two weeks?”

“Ngh, I said I was busy, I told you.”

“Busy with what?”

“Summer is coming. Hah, there’s sailing to prepare for. Ugh. There’s always a lot to do in early summer. Haa…”

He laid her flat and rocked his hips slowly, and every time his c*ck reached deep inside her, it felt so good.

‘First he hurts me, then he makes it better.’

She felt pathetic for throwing away her pride over pleasure. Even so, she had no desire to kick herself out of bed.

‘It does feel good. It would be a waste to leave after only the spanking.’

With the mindset of enjoying it while she could, she pulled Aslan closer.

With one last sharp cry, Freya went limp. She watched the prince wiping her body clean with distant, vacant eyes.

The dawn moon, hidden behind clouds, came into view.

The breeze drifting in through the window wasn’t enough to cool the heat still clinging to her. Even after lying there for a long while, her ragged breathing wouldn’t settle.

Unlike her, still dizzy, Aslan regained his composure quickly. He looked down at her with an indifferent gaze as she occupied his bed.

“Are you going to rest a little longer before you go?”

It sounded like an eviction notice telling her to leave once she got what she came for. Freya dragged herself upright.

‘No afterglow?’

Her chest felt hollow for no particular reason. A kiss was too much to ask for, but she at least wanted a hug. Wasn’t that the bare minimum of affection between lovers?

Then she snapped back to her senses.

‘Oh, right. We’re not lovers.’

She now understood exactly what he meant by not forcing feelings.

So this was what it was like to share a bed with someone who wasn’t your lover. She felt a quiet loneliness as she dressed. The heat that burned so brightly went cold in an instant.

“When will you come next?”

Freya looked back at Aslan.

She didn’t like that he switched back to formal speech the moment it was over. She felt more distant from him now than before they slept together.

Normally she would have said she didn’t know and brushed it off coldly.

But maybe her spirit took a blow. Maybe her bottom still ached. Or maybe the pleasure from moments ago still lingered too strongly.

Her pouting lips opened without confidence.

“…A week from now.”

She pretended not to see the corners of Aslan’s mouth curve upward and fled the bedroom. She came out to the front yard and took hold of the reins of her horse tied to a tree trunk.

She rode back, crossing through the reed field again.

“Ugh, my back hurts.”

Her overworked back ached and complained. She could only worry about the fate of a pleasure-seeker.