Chapter 4-6

That evening.

Wrapped in warm clothes, Jane stood glaring out the window. Rain still fell outside. It was a picturesque scene—but she wasn’t really looking at it.

Before her eyes, the same image replayed endlessly: Ruelne, soaked to the bone, walking toward her.

‘Haah, I’ve lost my mind.’

In that moment, she truly hadn’t been able to think.

After a long kiss, clarity had suddenly struck. The first thing she noticed was his graduation attire. The image of countless other graduates flashed through her mind—and she pushed him away.

Ruelne had simply opened his eyes and looked at her. He said nothing.

“…….”

There were so many things she wanted to ask.

How did you find out who I am? How much do you know? Don’t tell me…… even when I introduced myself as ‘Jena’, you already knew?

If that’s the case, then your letters…… how much of them were real?

She had countless questions—but in that moment, one thought eclipsed them all.

His rain-soaked hair clinging to his forehead. Droplets trailing down his face. Eyes clearer and deeper than the storm itself. Water sliding along the bridge of his nose. Glossy lips. The broad, solid build she had felt when he held her.

I want him.

She confronted the ugliness of her own desire.

No matter what anyone said, she wanted him in her hands. She wanted to place anything he desired into them. In exchange, she could ask him to stay by her side forever. She had the money to do that, didn’t she?

At the same time, nausea rose in her throat.

If she did that, how would she be any different from the many sponsors she had despised—and that he himself loathed?

But Ruelne kissed me too. It wasn’t the first time. Look at his eyes—they want me. Why else would he chase after me like this? And if he knows my identity and wants my money, so what? I can give him anything.

‘No.’

She was, at the very least, the adult between them. She had met him before he even came of age. Fine—she admitted it. She hadn’t raised him, but she had sponsored him. She had thought of him as family. All the more reason she couldn’t do this. If they were together, both he and his house—just beginning to rise again—would be dragged into scandal.

At the same time, something inside her laughed.

Another self.

Is that really the only thing stopping you? How trivial.

She could feel her own desire mocking her. But she pushed him away and turned her back.

Another act of avoidance, following the letters.

Ruelne neither called after her nor chased her. Even though she felt a chill down her spine as she ran, she never looked back.

And now—

“Haah…….”

When she returned home drenched, Bianca and the servants had been thrown into an uproar. Emma, the live-in maid, even scolded her—something she rarely did. After washing and forcing herself to sleep, she woke to find it already evening. The rain had not stopped.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess.

Regret and sorrow gnawed at her endlessly—she had swatted away the hand Ruelne had extended to her.

Jane dragged a hand down her face, then lifted her head.

‘On a day like this, maybe I should drink…….’

Now she understood why Camilla reached for alcohol after fighting with her husband.

She started to look for wine in the house—then froze.

“Do you see that place over there? It’s a shop I frequent.”

“Th-that… pub?”

“Yes. I like it.”

She thought of the shop he had mentioned. They hadn’t gone together because of timing, but it had been in a decent area—a modest yet atmospheric bar.

Jane admitted to herself that she was acting strange. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be moving on impulse like this again. No—she only became strange when it came to Ruelne, and the only solution was to see him.

Instead of forcing herself to endure, she decided to let it out in a different way.

A short while later, dressed comfortably, she stood in front of the bar.

She remembered the location, and since the rain had begun to let up, the streets were fairly busy. Pale yellow light spilled out from the entrance. After lingering there for a moment, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The coachman who had accompanied her had been worried, but she reassured him and told him when to return before coming in.

The atmosphere inside was soft and comfortable.

Like Ruelne’s smile.

‘……He’s not here.’

Jane let out a small huff of laughter. Had she been hoping for coincidence again? After running away like that in broad daylight?

“Welcome. It’s rare for a young lady to come alone.”

She had just taken a seat when the kindly-looking owner approached and set a glass in front of her.

“…I haven’t ordered anything.”

“When a pretty young lady visits, I offer one on the house. You look about the same age as my granddaughter.”

There was nothing lecherous in his eyes—only warmth and gentle kindness. Jane was reminded of her late grandfather. In truth, though she had come all this way, she hadn’t planned on drinking much. She was out in public, and she had to return home.

She had only come to see if she might feel some trace of Ruelne here—but now that she had, she realized how foolish that thought was. With a faint smile, Jane lifted the glass.

“The color’s lovely.”

“What worries does such a pretty young lady carry, to look as though she bears the weight of the whole world?”

Perhaps because of the rain, the bar wasn’t crowded. When she had entered, a man sitting near the door had startled at the sight of her and hurried out—but it must have been her imagination. There was no reason anyone here would recognize her.

The liquor was sweet. She should have asked about the proof, but suddenly it felt like too much trouble. If she drank only half, she could still make it home.

She lifted her gaze. Sitting at the bar, she could see rows of glass bottles behind the owner, large and small, gleaming beautifully under the lights.

Yes—he used to shine like that, too.

“Not the whole world’s worries… just something small.”

Perhaps it was the owner’s grandfatherly kindness, that gentle voice. Jane felt the latch inside her loosen slightly. It wasn’t as though she’d ever come back here again. And the man before her didn’t know who she was.

“I was dumped.”

If she were being honest, she had been the one to throw away the opportunity. Even so, she believed it had been the right choice.

After the Marchioness of Seymour married her patron, the criticism and abuse directed at female sponsors and their beneficiaries had been vicious. And it hadn’t lessened with time. She couldn’t ask someone who could live brilliantly and happily without her to tie himself to her—to date her, marry her, and endure insults because of it.

Jane let out a faint, crooked smile.

‘If we’d kissed and talked… what would Ruelne have said?’

The one thing Jane had overlooked was that this bar was well-known among serious drinkers for its high-proof liquor. Naturally, the owner assumed she knew that when she walked in.

True to her word, she drank only half—

and quickly began to feel lightheaded.

‘My head feels a little heavy….’

She didn’t think she was drunk—just tired. After all, it had been a long day. And her conversation with the owner had been surprisingly enjoyable. After she mentioned being dumped, he had lamented her misfortune, even grown indignant over who could possibly have hurt such a pretty young lady. It made her laugh, thinking of her grandfather.

After that, they chatted idly about nothing in particular.

When she came back to herself, her glass was empty. She seemed to have enjoyed another drink the owner had given her as well. When she lifted her head, she saw his flustered expression.

“Oh dear, miss… you’re not much of a drinker, are you? You seemed perfectly fine earlier.”

That’s the thing—I don’t look drunk at first when I drink. But I’m terribly weak, so I never do. Wait… am I saying that out loud? Jane rubbed her stiff eyes.

“Isn’t there anyone with you? You look like a noble lady… where’s your escort? At least give me your address. I’ll call a carriage!”

The owner truly was kind. Jane felt oddly pleased that she hadn’t misjudged him—even if her hands and mouth refused to cooperate.

That was when—

“I’m with her.”

“Hm?”

The owner’s face brightened.

“So it’s you. She’s your guest?”

Jane tried to open her eyes, but no matter how hard she tried, they only lifted halfway. Forcing her heavy head to turn, she saw a large figure. The man wore gloves. Even gloved, his hands were large—and beautiful.

I know hands like that…

Without thinking, she grabbed one.

She felt the brief flicker of surprise from its owner—but only for a moment. Instead of pulling away, he gently wrapped his hand around hers.

“You see?”

“Well then… Ah, wait—this pretty young lady said she was dumped today. That means the wretched scoundrel was you?”

The casual exchange drifted toward her from far away. She felt the hand holding hers tremble slightly.

He seemed to be smiling.

“Ah… she said she was dumped? Honestly—who was it that got dumped, I wonder….”

Who are you, smiling so sweetly like that? Jane slowly lifted her head. Her eyes opened more easily now.

And beneath the light, she saw softly gleaming gray hair.

Her eyes widened.

“Rue—!”

“Shh.”

Ruelne’s hand lightly covered her mouth. He narrowed his eyes in amusement, then bent down to whisper in her ear.

“I use a different name here. Mine’s a bit too famous. It’s troublesome.”

This version of Ruelne didn’t overlap with any she knew—except perhaps the faint trace of mischief she sometimes glimpsed in his letters.

“Jane.”

For a moment, her vision went dark. When she opened her eyes again, she was in someone’s arms. She startled—but relaxed at the sight of his face.

What… it’s just Ruelne…? Then this must be a dream.

“You said you’d take responsibility, didn’t you?”

“Mmm….”

“Yes. Good.”

His voice was unbearably gentle—so gentle she wanted to hear it forever. Like a child seeking comfort, she burrowed into his chest, the way she used to with her parents and grandfather long ago. After a brief hesitation, Ruelne wrapped his arms tightly around her, as if he would never let go.

“Good. You promised. You said you’d take responsibility.”

His voice was low and soft.

---

When she opened her eyes again,

she was kissing someone.

The sensation beneath her back was impossibly soft, as if her body might melt into it. Having grown up in wealth, she was used to the finest of everything—she could hardly sleep on any bed but her own when traveling.

And yet, strangely, this was far too comfortable.

“Mmm….”

Through hazy vision, she was kissing someone.

The kiss was so soft, so sweet, she felt she could go on forever. She lifted her arms and wound them around his neck. Then, suddenly, the sensation felt familiar.

Lowering her gaze slowly, she saw violet eyes—dark and deep, burning with desire beneath the dim light.

Jane blinked slowly.

“Ruelne…?”

Their eyes met.

She felt caught, like an insect in a web.

While she did nothing but breathe in shallow, heated gasps, Ruelne lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. His gaze flickered between her fingers.

Her throat went dry.

“Yes, my tall lady.”

The moment his eyes curved into a smile, a small sound escaped her.

“Ah…”

Ruelne knows who I am—and he’s kissing me?

The strong liquor tangled the day’s events together. Some things that were real felt like fantasies. Like the kiss they had shared beneath an umbrella in the rain.

This impossibly soft bed had to be hers.

This is my room. But Ruelne’s here, on my bed, kissing me—and he knows who I am?

‘This is a dream….’

Regret crashed over her like a wave. Why is it a dream? If only it were real. Though she had pushed him away earlier, reason winning out, she knew her desire had grown too large to suppress. If she’d been just a little weaker, she would have thrown everything aside and begged him to stay by her side.

Like now.

As she felt his hand tracing her shoulder, she suddenly realized—

Ruelne wasn’t wearing anything.

“Why… are you undressed?”

For a split second, surprise flickered in his eyes.

Then he replied calmly,

“I was drenched by the rain.”

“Ah. I see….”

Ruelne without a shirt. Yes—this had to be a dream.

Embarrassingly enough, this wasn’t the first time she had dreamed of him.

“It must be a dream….”

“Pardon?”

“You’re here again….”

Ruelne pulled her hand. When she lifted her gaze, his eyes were close—glossy and intent.

“Again? You said again. Do you often have dreams… where I appear?”

Jane couldn’t answer.

Or rather, she didn’t want to.

But her drunken mouth was honest.

“…Sometimes?”

“…I see. And what do we do in these dreams?”

His voice was low, suggestive. Jane paused to think.

It wasn’t anything grand.

Perhaps even in her dreams, she had thought it shouldn’t go that far.

Unless, perhaps, it was one of those indecent fantasies she sometimes had—only with Ruelne’s face.

Naturally, Camilla’s shameless chatter came to mind.

Camilla had talked like that for years whenever they drank together.

“I’m telling you, I had the best night with my lover. Did you know it’s incredible when the woman’s on top?”

“Enough already. How would I know?”

“Aww, what are we going to do with our pure little lady? Hahaha.”

Kissing his neck feels incredible, she had said. Men like being touched here and there, too. When a hand—one you’ve allowed—touches your chest, it makes you feel like you’ll come undone.

Each of Camilla’s words resurfaced, and every time Ruelne’s face filled her vision, a tingling warmth pooled low in her body.

She pressed her legs together, shifting slightly.

“…No answer?”

Ruelne’s eyes narrowed.

And suddenly, another thought came to her.

It’s all a dream anyway, isn’t it?

‘Then couldn’t I just… take him?’

The alcohol ruled her body now. The reason that usually governed her had long since been dragged away. In its place, a warped logic whispered:

You’re perfectly rational right now. This is when you should act decisively.

It’s a dream. So why not do what you want?

You can’t in reality.

That was what pushed her.

Jane’s hand moved at once.

“…Jane?”

Ruelne had been the bold one moments ago, but when she suddenly grabbed his neck and pulled him down, confusion flashed across his face.

Only briefly.

Their lips met again.

And not just that.

“Haah….”

When their lips parted, their positions had changed.

Jane was straddling his bare torso.

‘Goodness, how is this dream so realistic? His body is really….’

Embarrassingly, it was magnificent. His muscles stood out clearly, not an ounce of excess fat in sight. She had known he was tall—but seeing the solid build beneath her made her breath hitch.

“Jane….”

Even his breath-roughened voice pleased her.

So captivated was she by his face and body that she failed to notice—

this was not her bedroom.

As she leaned down to kiss him again, a large hand caught her. Ruelne raised his upper body, gripping her waist and settling her back against his hips.

“Jane… wait a moment.”

Wait? For what?

Camilla’s years of indecent advice burst through her mind like popping clouds.

“If you like him, just start with a kiss. You’ve had a drink—what’s the problem? If he likes you, he’ll go straight for it. And with a face like yours?”

Strange. She had started with a kiss.

“Jane, I didn’t bring you here for this. I mean, I won’t claim I have no desire, but….”

Ruelne shook his head slowly, looking parched.

“Let’s talk first. We have a lot to discuss, don’t we?”

His hand cupped her cheek, warm against her flushed skin.

Jane glanced down.

“After the kiss?”

“After the kiss… what else? Lay him down. You’ve got to lay him down!”

Jane pushed at his shoulder.

He shifted slightly—but then braced himself.

Why isn’t he falling?

Her hand was caught in his.

“Jane? Not like this. Let’s talk—”

“Let’s.”

“…What?”

“Let’s, Ruelne.”

Jane smiled brightly.

“Men love hearing this. Listen carefully. You say—”

“I want to.”

It’s my room, my dream—what’s the harm?

Ruelne’s body went rigid.

When her dream-version of him didn’t respond, Jane tilted her head.

Then, suddenly, fear crept in. She began to pull her hand away.

“Am I not your type? Because I’m older… is that it?”

Before her hand could fully withdraw, he seized it.

His grip was hot—almost burning.

When she looked up, his eyes were darker than before, heavy and damp with restraint.

“Are you certain?”

Jane blinked.

“I’m not as virtuous as you think. I won’t excuse this as drunken words.”

He held her hand firmly—not painfully, but enough.

“Will you regret it?”

“No.”

“…Will you take responsibility?”

Responsibility. She had always wanted to.

If possible, she wanted to take responsibility for him for life—long after he no longer needed her patronage.

It was such an easy answer.

Blushing deeply, Jane nodded calmly.

“Yes. Of course.”

My beneficiary. Forgive this wicked sponsor. I’ve fallen for you.

She smiled sweetly at him.

For a moment, Ruelne was captivated.

Then—

he lowered his head slightly, shoulders trembling.

He was laughing.

When he slowly lifted his face again, the flustered young man who had been startled by her kiss was gone.

So was the calm youth who had insisted on talking.

In his place was a man whose eyes gleamed like a beast that had been waiting for this moment.

And yet, he smiled beautifully.

“Very well. I did say… I wanted to talk, didn’t I?”

As the position grew uncomfortable, Jane shifted instinctively—

and froze.

Something large pressed insistently against her backside—no, against her center.

“How I came to know your identity—”

His damp voice slid into her ear.

“—that’s what I intended to confess first.”

“You were the one who refused.”

In that instant, their positions reversed.

“Mm… ah…”

Jane was suddenly reminded of the first time she ever drank alcohol.

The day she first drank had also been one of the saddest days of her life. It was the week her parents died. The people who cared about her had been at a loss, watching her cry until she nearly collapsed from exhaustion. On the third day, Camilla showed up with a bottle. ‘Do you even realize you haven’t slept in three days?’ she’d said, telling her to drink this at least and please, just sleep.

The alcohol that day had been bitter and harsh. She had always been bad with liquor. And at the same time, she learned something.

As easily as she got drunk… she sobered up just as quickly.

By dawn, the alcohol she’d gulped down had completely worn off, the haze blown away without a trace. She had felt strangely refreshed—but it was also the day she resolved not to drink often.

Which meant that no matter how strong the liquor was, two glasses… would wear off in an hour or two.

And so it was. Jane was slowly regaining her senses.

She had definitely been very drunk—but the haze was gone now.

“Uhn, R-Ruelne…?”

And at the same time, she was confronted with this unbelievable situation. In a dark room, alone with Ruelne—and in a posture so shameful, so explicit she could barely comprehend it. At some point, her clothes had been stripped away. More precisely, the undergarment covering her breasts had slipped down, leaving them bare, while only the thin fabric covering her sex remained intact.

She wasn’t the type to black out. She remembered every step that had led here with vivid clarity.

Heat flooded her cheeks. Ruelne, sensing the change in her voice, lifted his eyes slightly. When their gazes met, she flinched. Had he realized she’d sobered up?

But he continued what he was doing, as if he hadn’t noticed at all.

“…You have beautiful breasts.”

“Ah—?! Ahn—!”

Lick. His tongue traced along her areola, then flicked over her nipple. His other hand—large, possessive—closed around her full breast. It was too ample to fit entirely in his grasp.

“They’re big.”

A simple observation. Yet unbearable embarrassment surged through her. At the same time, a sharp, tingling pleasure pooled low in her belly. He gently teased her nipple with his tongue before finally—haap—drawing her breast fully into his mouth.

“Ah…! Ahn, R-Ruel—ah! Aah! Th-there, ngh…! It hurts…!”

When he bit down lightly, a jolt of pain shot straight up her spine. And yet the way his tongue soothed the sting, sweeping over it tenderly, felt so good she found herself clutching his head without thinking.

She couldn’t believe what she was doing.

Camilla had been right. It could feel this good. Even knowing she should tell him to stop—she couldn’t.

Tears gathered faintly at her lashes at the unfamiliar kind of pleasure.

“…This is different from what I imagined.”

After lavishing attention on both breasts until they were flushed red, he stroked them slowly and murmured that line.

“I thought you might be more… experienced.”

His languid voice seemed to glide over her skin. Just hearing him made her clench below.

This—this was wrong.

Before she could pull herself out of the haze of guilt and pleasure, his hand slid down her stomach.

“I like this part better.”

His hand began to rub her sex gently. Even through the thin fabric, the contact made her mind go blank.

There—there, no, not there—

Jane clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound threatening to spill out.

Watching her squirm, Ruelne lowered his face with a faintly amused look.

Press. Press.

“You’re really pale.”

He pressed a kiss to her abdomen before finally settling between her legs. Startled, Jane tried to sit up—but he was faster.

“…!”

He bit down over the cloth covering her sex. The unfamiliar sensation made her body jolt violently. Not satisfied, he pinched her labia through the fabric, releasing and kneading them as he had her nipples, watching her writhe with clear enjoyment.

“Does it feel good?”

“Ahh—R-Ruelne, your mouth… n-no…!”

“Yes. I like it too.”

Smiling, he tugged her underwear aside and slipped his hand in. Her clitoris—untouched by anyone since birth—quivered under his fingers. Holding the fabric taut, he relentlessly teased the sensitive nub, watching her tremble.

“Ah, ah! No—ah! Th-there—ahhh!”

“Mmh, you really like it. I guess you like me.”

The stretched fabric stimulated her even more, his hand never stopping.

In the end, she couldn’t hold it back. Her body shuddered violently. For the first time in her life, she climaxed at someone else’s hand…!

‘Ah, ahh. This is insane…!’

It had only been a light release—but to her, it felt like the world had shifted on its axis.

As she drifted in the aftershock, her legs suddenly felt bare. He had removed the last of her underwear.

Now she was completely naked.

Ruelne took his time looking at her—the ruin he had made of her. Truly, how long had it taken to get here? He grasped her legs and lowered his face again.

“Ruelne! W-wait—ah!”

His tongue enveloped the clitoris he had just teased with his fingers. The stimulation was incomparable—electric, shooting through her spine and straight into her mind.

“Aaah!”

She climaxed again, just like that. He had only put his mouth on her.

“Th-that’s dirty—”

“No it’s not. It’s sweet.”

Slurp. His lips closed around her clit, and she thrashed helplessly. Everything was new. Every sensation unbearable—intoxicating. It almost frightened her, what might lie at the end of this.

And yet the more he stimulated her, the stranger it became. A hunger grew. More—just a little more—if only something would push deeper, fill her—

She didn’t even know where.

Then—

One long finger pushed in.

Only then did she realize.

Here.

“This must be it. The hole a baby comes out of.”

Shhk. Shhk. It was tight. Even one of his fingers struggled to push inside—but Ruelne did not rush. Carefully, calmly, he gradually increased his pace, working his long fingers in and out of her. All the while, he continued sucking her clitoris.

Tears spilled from her eyes, trailing down to her temples.

“Ah—stop—ah! Ruelne, this, no—”

“This isn’t it? That can’t be.”

He pressed his head against her.

At some point, another finger had joined the first. He moved his hand and spoke affectionately, a little shyly.

“You’re my patron, aren’t you? My tall lady who wanted to teach me everything.”

“Ah—ngh! There—ah! I—no!”

“Yes. So you have to teach me. Were you not planning to give me a proper sex education?”

Push. Four fingers now moved inside her. Her clitoris throbbed as if it had a heartbeat of its own.

“I’ve kept myself untouched too. For my patron.”

Jane wanted to respond—but her eyes, her ears, everything seemed hijacked by pleasure. He lifted his mouth and bit lightly at her thigh.

“…!”

Her body jerked.

‘Oh?’

He understood at once. Her thighs were sensitive.

He didn’t hold back, leaving bite marks in places only she would ever see.

He withdrew his fingers.

Immediately, Jane felt hollow—achingly empty. She wanted him to push back in, to soothe that unbearable itch.

What is this…?

“Ah, ahh… ah…! Ahn!”

She couldn’t think. The pleasure rising from that unspeakable place drowned everything. She had once been curious what this might feel like—but reality was nothing like imagination.

It felt too good.

Her feet pushed uselessly against the sheets, but the fine fabric only slipped beneath her.

“W-wait—ah, ahh, R-Ruelne!”

Her fingers tangled in his soft gray hair. The more she tried to push him away, the deeper the ruthless invader pressed. His tongue slipped into the hole his fingers had just vacated.

“Ah—no, not there—! Aaaah!”

The wet sensation sent dizzying shocks down her spine. How many times had it been now? She had no space to berate herself for climaxing again.

Ruelne swallowed the liquid she spilled with satisfaction and licked his lips.

“I imagined it so many times…”

His voice had dropped—dark, thick.

“Hah… your breath… don’t…”

“You’re even more sensitive than I thought.”

Even his faint breath brushing her made her twitch below.

“Lewd.”

He pulled back slightly, licking her clit once—then took it back into his mouth.

White stars burst behind her eyes. The pleasure that had been building and building finally exploded.

“A-ah! St-stop—ah, ngh, this is—ahh!”

“Mmh, you can come.”

At his gentle permission, her eyes squeezed shut. Tears streamed from the corners.

Shamefully, she soaked him again. It was the first time she had felt this kind of pleasure.

“It feels incredible. You’ll end up begging him to suck harder.”

She shouldn’t have brushed off her friend’s crude gossip.

A body that had never once accepted a man in thirty years absorbed the unfamiliar pleasure like a sponge.

As if it had been waiting.

Pleasure—and the faint remnants of alcohol—blurred her reason. No, she thought it had erased it. But that wasn’t true. Now that the alcohol had fully faded, her mind—stripped of its usual cool composure—worked with strange clarity, as if determined to remember every sensation.

Jane had always known she was weak to alcohol. That was why she had rarely touched it. She had never needed it to enjoy life. She had wealth no one could coerce her with.

And yet.

Not only had she broken her own rule and drunk strong liquor—she had acted without restraint.

None of it was like her.

And yet… she didn’t entirely hate it.

Jane forced her blurred eyes open.

“Hah… hn…”

She saw him lifting his head slowly from between her legs.

Moonlight bathed his gray hair in a refined glow. His smooth forehead. Perfect brows damp with sweat. A straight nose. A sculpted jawline—as if carved from ice and flowers.

The beautiful man looked down at her without expression.

Just meeting his gaze made her skin burn.

Those violet eyes—eyes she had cherished every single day from the time he lost his sight until he regained it.

‘This… isn’t right…’

She thought blankly.

“You felt even better than I expected. I’m surprised.”

His voice was calm, slightly hoarse, scraping deliciously at her ears. Jane tried to cover them—but he caught her hand.

His well-shaped lips curved faintly. She had known him for so long, yet had rarely seen him smile like that.

Her heart trembled.

Even as that lovely smile slowly darkened, she couldn’t look away.

Even seeing the sheen on his lips—her own fluids—only intensified the heat swelling in her chest. Shame, satisfaction, possessiveness, sin—they drowned out her goodness, as if telling her not to think of useless things now.

‘But…’

When Jane tried to turn her head away, he caught her chin and forced her back.

“Our eyes meet like this… I always imagined it. What kind of face you’d make.”

His other hand stroked her bare breast again. A long finger flicked her nipple.

“Hngh!”

Her slender body shivered.

He smiled, pleased. It was too beautiful. She couldn’t move.

But at the same time, alarm bells rang in her mind. She had to speak—now. The alcohol was gone. She was fully conscious. Whatever happened from here would be her choice alone.

She had a duty.

“Ruelne… I—I’ve sobered up. I admit I was drunk before. I did something I never should have done to you…”

She spoke haltingly. Thankfully, her voice sounded calm. She had been the one to kiss him, to ask him to hold her.

It was her fault.

“Shouldn’t have?”

Ruelne tilted his head as if he didn’t understand.

He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek, leaning into it with a strangely innocent expression.

Why not? it seemed to say.

The sight of his sweat-damp face and glossy lips made something blaze inside her chest.

She tried to lean back—

There was nowhere to retreat.

Only the sight of him approaching again, like a starving beast.

“R-Ruelne… we shouldn’t…”

“There’s no such thing.”

His face turned sharp as a blade.

Click. With the soft sound of a fastening undone, he freed the rigid erection that had been restrained.

Jane’s fading eyes snapped wide.

“You don’t know.”

“….”

She tried to rise and pull away—but he caught her ankle and gently tugged her back. She could have said no. She could have kicked him away.

But she didn’t.

She only stared at the length before her.

Can it… really be this beautiful?

Or had the drunken haze never fully left?

It wasn’t just his face that was beautiful. The straight shaft. The head, large as a child’s fist. A soft pink hue. Though the bulging veins were slightly intimidating.

And it was enormous.

Almost absurdly so.

Jane’s lips parted slightly—and Ruelne didn’t miss it.

Her sex was already a mess from the fluids she’d spilled through several climaxes. He pressed his erection against the slickness and rubbed slowly. The head brushed over her sensitive nub, and her spine arched again.

All strength drained from her limbs; sensation pooled sharply below.

He aligned the tip with her entrance and began to push in.

After so many orgasms—and his diligent fingers—he slid in gradually.

“…!”

Even so, he was too big.

She felt stretched tight.

A large hand closed around her waist and hauled her upright. Her vision flipped in an instant. Startled by the sudden lift, Jane instinctively wrapped her legs tightly around his hips. Broad shoulders. She remembered that day she’d absentmindedly leaned on him and been startled by the solid heat beneath her palm. Weakly, she tried to push him down.

But the small motion was effortlessly thwarted by the hand dragging her closer at the waist.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Ah…!”

Jane wanted to say something—anything. But she couldn’t. The blunt tip of his arousal, the head far too large for her entrance, was already pressing in at the most secret place of her body. He had licked and teased and opened her so carefully that, though this was truly her first time, that massive length began to work its way inside her inch by inch. She shook her head frantically.

“N-no, it won’t fit!”

“It will. Want to bet?”

“Uh—hnn! Ngh—!”

Tears pooled at the tips of her long lashes.

“No, wait, don’t— ah! If we, ah! Ngh, if we do this—!”

“If we do what?”

“Don’t— ahhh!”

Because Ruelne suddenly rose to his feet with her still in his arms, gravity dragged her body downward.

Shluk!

The huge length slid halfway in at once. Unlike her shock, her inner walls seemed to welcome him, drawing him in as if in greeting. Jane’s mouth fell open, no words coming out. Her eyes flew wide. Her whole body trembled.

Only half—and yet it felt even more overwhelming than before, when he had sucked and licked her. Her vision bleached white.

“You like it this much?”

Shluk, thk!

He lifted her slightly to adjust her position, then pushed in again.

“Ah—no, ah! Ah! Ngh—aaah!”

“See? Even the inside says it likes me.”

His voice—rough with breath, edged with laughter—scraped along the shell of her ear. Yellow and white stars burst behind her eyes; her vision blurred into nothing. She couldn’t speak.

“We should’ve been like this a long time ago.”

At last, when that enormous length filled her completely, Jane felt a pleasure unlike anything in this world. Her tight inner walls clasped him, trapping him in dense heat. He frowned at the narrow, clenching pressure.

Even that expression was intoxicating.

Once she understood this feeling, there would be no going back. A dangerous, distant thrill spread through her—like someone stepping willingly into the abyss of addiction, resistance forgotten.

How did it end up like this?

“Isn’t that right, Sponsor?”

Right. That was the problem, wasn’t it?

Ruelne Scharnhost.

The sole survivor who rebuilt a fallen ducal house. The Empire’s most ill-fated young lord.

And her… beautiful ward.

Perhaps she should never have met this man.

And yet the moment she thought that, she knew it might already be too late. No—she had walked here herself, passing up countless chances to refuse him. Jane sensed that when she opened her eyes, many things would have changed. It would likely be tragic.

Even so, she didn’t want to let him go.

She clutched his shoulders tightly.

“Oh? Pointless thoughts.”

As if he could read her mind, the man who wore the face she had cherished lifted his hips, heat pooling darkly in his eyes.

“It’s fine. The night is… long.”

“…Ah! Ngh, ah—aaah!”

His low, pleasant laugh drifted faintly.

“Want me to finish inside?”

“Mm—ah, ahh! N-no—!”

“Say it. Tell me to. Hmm?”

As his thrusts grew rougher and deeper, pleasure seized her by the hair and dragged moans from her throat. The thought that she sounded like an animal drifted away like a distant star, swallowed by rapture.

Just as she was about to crest, Ruelne stopped moving.

At some point he had laid her on the bed. She looked up at him with naked longing. The moment he stilled, she felt an aching emptiness, an itch deep inside. It was hard to believe this was a body that had only just learned pleasure today—she twisted helplessly with need.

“Come on. Tell me to finish inside.”

Even now—at this point—any lingering awareness that she was his sponsor, the adult obligated to guide him properly, faded into nothing. She parted her dry lips. Inside, her mouth was slick with saliva. A dark light gleamed in his eyes.

“Hngh—!”

His fingers slipped into her mouth. Jane sucked on them, tears brimming as she stared at him. Her face was already a mess from tears brought on by pleasure. Ruelne felt a surge of exhilaration.

“Say it. Hurry. Hmm?”

His length pressed firmly at her entrance, then slid out again. The emptiness left behind felt almost itchy. Jane squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them.

“…Give it.”

“What?”

“Finish… inside. P-please…”

Thrust!

“Aah!”

His shaft pierced her in one stroke. Driven all the way in, her eyes flew open—then quickly blurred. Watching her sink into hazy pleasure, Ruelne smiled.

It was a dark, sinking smile.

“I’ll give you as much as you want. Just like you wished.”

His voice sounded far away. Very far.

“I’m better than that bastard, aren’t I?”

…That bastard? Who—

But there was no time to ask.

“Hngh, I’m—going—ah… mm!”

“You swallowed it, right? One more time. Hmm? Just once more…”

After that, it was her first time—and a night of frenzy overflowing with pleasure.

“Aaaah!”

His relentless thrusts showed no sign of ending until the sun rose.