An endless thirst washed over Isabelle.

She clawed and scratched at Arnaud’s neck, urging him on. Sometimes she even pulled with all her strength.

Arnaud knew exactly what she wanted – knew it so well that he deliberately lingered on her collarbone, teasing her there and nowhere else.

Busy marking his way down to her jaw, Arnaud didn’t show his face until she’d pulled him toward her for the fourth time.

“Arnaud, mmph!”

Candlelight flickered in his blue eyes. Fire and sea-two things that only mixed in him.

As she called his name with breathless intensity, his tongue entered her mouth as if in response.

It dragged slowly across her palate, and just as it seemed to reach the root, it began to flick frantically at the tip instead.

Whether she could breathe or not no longer mattered.

“Hhhn… ahh…!”

One of Arnaud’s hands, which had been cupping her face, moved slowly down.

It traced a slow, heated path from the hollow of her br*ast to her abdomen, finally slipping under the chemise.

His fingers found their way between her thigh and its junction, brushing the sensitive skin.

Only his thumb explored where it remained tightly closed.

Her strength had left her long ago.

“Ah… hnn… mmm…”

“Shh.”

Even the slightest touch drew a reaction from Isabelle.

Their long-delayed first night together was filled with unfamiliar sensations, but one thing she knew for sure – Arnaud would never want her to stay quiet.

“Relax.”

She let out a moan, and each time Arnaud pulled her gently into his arms. With a single, measured motion, he parted her thighs, raised his arm, and slid the edge of his hand between the smooth folds.

“Arnaud… ah, yes!”

“I’m here.”

She couldn’t tell if the tears in her eyes were from the tenderness in his voice or the aching heat building underneath.

His touch grazed her cl*t with delicate precision, and each time he did, her legs tensed uncontrollably.

The edge of his hand brushed gently across her cl*t. Each time he did, her legs stiffened.

His hand paused at a spot just below the center, where the slight swelling hadn’t fully formed.

“Haah, mm, ah!”

Next to move was his index finger.

Arnaud’s index finger was unusually long, more than enough to reach deep inside Isabelle, deeper than most could.

What had been teasing at the entrance finally slipped in.

“Ah, Arnaud, that… haah, mm, hhn…”

“You’re burning up.”

“It feels… mmh, it feels strange… It’s strange, ah!”

He deliberately explored the curved inner walls and soon slid another finger in, filling every space. His index and middle fingers moved together, pressing against the soft ridges inside.

She murmured that it felt strange, but Arnaud didn’t stop. Gentle waves stirred deep within, and clear *rousal coated his hand.

As the wet, rhythmic sound grew louder, Isabelle’s head tilted further back with each movement.

“It’s so tight.”

Feeling the spot that made her tremble, Arnaud slowly withdrew his hand. The shiver that ran through her as his fingertips slipped out was unlike anything else in the world.

Isabelle couldn’t even form a proper answer.

“Ah… hnn… What… what do you mean…?”

“Can you take me?”

She had seen his face countless times before, but at this moment, Arnaud’s golden hair looked strangely unfamiliar to her. As did the flush on his cheeks, burning red.

The way his eyes shone with longing, and the hand that had somehow found its way to her hip – it was all new.

A man who wanted her so badly.

And the overwhelming urge to give in to that desire.

Only then did Isabelle realize something truly important.

That love was something powerful enough to make one abandon reason – she finally understood that.

“If you’re afraid…”

And with that, without a moment’s hesitation, she pressed her lips to his.

Their mouths opened as if they were keys to each other, fitting perfectly, naturally. His tongue met hers again, deep and overwhelming, and beneath him the faint sound of a buckle or button being undone echoed through the room.

A strange sensation soon filled her thighs – something warm, no, hot, pressing against her, ready to take over the space between her legs.

As she had already admitted to herself, reason had long since been cast aside.

Isabelle, driven by desire, reached out and touched him along his p*nis.

His hips, already flushed with heat, trembled under her hand – perhaps even deeper than his hips.

“Ugh… haah.”

Each stroke made him shudder, his hot, uneven breaths falling against her collarbone.

This time, Isabelle was looking right at him.

Everything-everything–was focused solely on her.

The tousled golden curls, the melting blue of his irises, the ragged breaths spilling from his lips…

Her hips dropped by instinct.

Aligning herself with Arnaud’s lower body, Isabelle wrapped her long, lithe legs around his waist – and even then, her hand didn’t stop.

“Haah…ugh…”

It didn’t matter if she was his first or not.

At that moment, Isabelle didn’t want to be in her right mind.

No… it can’t be. No. He was a man who trembled at the slightest touch – someone who faltered in front of a woman for the first time.

For Isabelle, whose entire understanding of desire had been shaped by the veiled insults disguised as advice from Versica’s lovers, her thoughts unfolded as she wanted them to.

Then, just as Arnaud let out another deep moan, he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Startled, she looked up at him – only to hear him ask:

“Do you want me?”

“……”

“Do you want me, Isabelle?”

How could she shake her head?

Faced with Arnaud offering himself to her with a look that seemed to beg *save me,* Isabelle nodded without the slightest hesitation.

“I want you, Arnaud.”

Her answer was sealed with a kiss.

As their tongues intertwined, Arnaud’s p*nis hovered at her entrance, brushing repeatedly against the already soaked mound.

As if urging him on, Isabelle wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. Her fingers traced the spine exposed above his peach-colored waistband. Arnaud’s shirt was as thin as her chemise.

“Haah…damn…”

At the teasing touch, Arnaud pulled back briefly, his breath shaky. But almost immediately – perhaps in retaliation – his hand came up to cradle her br*ast.

No, not retaliation. It was much too gentle for that.

Even the order of things seemed deliberate.

As Madame Mayonne, Versica’s lover, had once said – Men always go for the br*asts first.?

The more experienced they were, the more they started with the n*pples – that was what Madame Mayonne, Versica’s lover, had once said.

“Haah…mm…!”

But Arnaud’s touch wandered, almost hesitant, as he caressed her br*asts. His fingers inadvertently brushed her n*pples, and each time the resulting shiver was a different kind of pleasure than the one she felt when w*tness gathered underneath.

“Ah… Arnaud… haah, mm!”

Her chemise had long since become a mess. And considering how much she had disheveled it, he didn’t look much better.

Even their shadows seemed to come closer.

It was all the more tantalizing because they weren’t completely n*ked – something about the layers that still clung to their bodies made the desire to strip each other almost maddening.

‘I want to have this man.’

As that thought surged through her, Arnaud wrapped his arms around her back.

He pulled her small head toward him, pressed her close, then kissed and nipped relentlessly at her neck, collarbone, and everywhere in between.

It wasn’t until there was nothing between their bare skin that a deep heat began to build inside her.

“Ah… mm, ah!”

“Just a little more… Eli, your legs…”

It sounded like he was calling to her, but Isabelle was far too overwhelmed to make sense of his words.

What she had expected to push in kept pausing, lingering, and the feeling of being almost – but not quite – full made her burn from the inside out.

“Ah… ngh… mm!”

Her impatience was short-lived. After a certain point, he finally began to push deeper, steadily and firmly.

Their hips met with no space between them.

Overwhelmed by the wave of sensation coursing through her, Isabelle cried out, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and shuddering intensity that enveloped her entire body.

Arnaud planted soft kisses behind her ear as if to soothe his wife.

He stroked along her ribs, down over her soft br*asts and traced the curve of her pelvis.

But all this tenderness only made things worse for her.

Like someone going through withdrawal, Isabelle reached for him desperately – pulling at his waist, biting at his neck.

Soon Arnaud began to move his hips slowly.

“Haah… mm! Ah! Ah-ugh… haah… ah!”

The heat was building fast. Just as he was burning inside her, Isabelle’s inner walls began to grow intensely warm.

The soft folds clung to him as if unwilling to let him go, stretching with each movement and then returning to form.

Her moans erupted uncontrollably.

‘At this rate, I’m going to lose my voice,’ she thought – but nothing ever goes quite the way we expect.

The two bodies moved as one, trembling together.

“I… want…”

Even in the midst of it, he seemed to have something to say. Arnaud spoke in fragments, pausing to catch his breath between each word.

But his hips didn’t stop moving – because he, too, had longed for Isabelle for a very long time.

“That I want you… haah… ngh… that I want you…”

But even this attempt failed.

Only then did Arnaud seem to realize that he was no longer in control of himself.

His mouth, which had opened a few times as if to speak, closed tightly as he just kept thrusting, again and again.

The room filled with sounds so raw they were hard to describe.

Not once did it occur to him that anyone might be listening.

No – she wanted them to hear it. This wild, uncontrollable desire surged through her. She wanted everyone to know.

“Mm… ngh… haah… ah!”

That the one Arnaud longed for tonight was Isabelle – and the one who would remain entwined with her until dawn was none other than Arnaud.

They weren’t just touching anymore – they were penetrating each other.

Whenever the pace slowed, her vision went white; and just when she thought she might be torn apart, his golden hair came back into view.

She resented him at that moment – for having her so mercilessly and not even showing his face.

So Isabelle lifted his face from her collarbone and pulled him into her, pressing their mouths together and letting their tongues entwine.

Still, Arnaud continued to move inside her.

There was no need to ask if she liked it. This wasn’t about questions or answers. It was a time for her body to learn him – to get used to him.

‘Can we ever love like this again?’

‘Can it ever be this passionate again?’

‘Will you ever want me like this again?’

At some point, Arnaud had become relentless.

And yet, Isabelle never once pushed him away or asked him to slow down.

Still, it felt like it would never be enough.

“Eli… Elisabeth…”

Arnaud trembled as he cl*maxed, his hand cupping Isabelle’s head. His slender but solid body shook violently.

He trembled right in front of her, calling out her name as if it hardly felt real, as if he couldn’t believe she was really his to hold, to feel.

Moments later, a warm sensation spread deep inside her.

Finally, Arnaud had filled her – completely.

When he let go, his body collapsed onto hers.

Even then, she shifted instinctively to protect them both from getting hurt.

And just as he slipped out of her, Isabelle was overcome by a final wave of pleasure.

There was a window on the side where Arnaud lay, and as Isabelle lay beside him, a chill crept in.

“……”

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.

She still couldn’t believe what he’d said at the end Eli, Elisabeth. It felt like a dream, so much so that she wanted to ask him if it was real.

Isabelle stared blankly at Arnaud’s lips, unable to gather her thoughts.

Joy and ecstasy swirled in her mind, too surreal to fully comprehend.

She couldn’t make sense of anything.

And then, without a word, Arnaud pulled her into his arms.

He held her so tight she thought she might break.

He held her as if he couldn’t let her go, as if she was everything.

His arms wrapped around her back, crossed like shackles.

Ah… She felt like she could cry.