When she opens her eyes, what kind of expression will she make when she sees the exposed bottom lustfully biting his finger and pouring out lewd liquid one after another. Will she refuse and resist? No, she was wrapped so tightly that she couldn’t even move her body properly.
‘Should I wake you up?’
Thinking about it, he urged her to wake up by deliberately stroking her wet entrance.
While he was pondering which one he would like more in his head, the woman shook violently as if she was about to open her eyes, but in the end her eyelids were firmly closed. Although the scene brought great excitement, the reaction of the dull woman was too dangerous even for the husband of the married woman.
At first, he was curious about the woman’s startled eyes who seemed to wake up in the middle, but on the other hand, he wanted to wake her so that the woman who noticed this strange feeling late should be more careful.
The two conflicting minds quickly crossed the line, but he had no intention of giving up. A shrill squeaking noise pierced his ears.
“Hng….”
The man’s low breathing was covered over the moan of the woman who didn’t know whether it was a moan or a sleep talk. Feeling the woman’s warmer body temperature and stroking her swollen bumps with his thumb, the faint voice of her woman thinly enveloped the library that should have been quiet. Water leaked from the corners of her sadly distorted eyes.
The Grand Duke licked his lips, licking her tears, gently moving his hand. He bent the tip of his finger like a hook and scraped the walls, pressing firmly on the place where he wanted her reaction to increase. Now seething with even more heat, the walls drooled obscenely.
After some time had passed, and as soon as he pulled both of his fingers out of her entrance, her lips twitched and her lower part fluttered in regret.
His gaze turned to his wet fingers. The gooey liquid on the outstretched fingers was shiny enough to create a thin film. When it touched his tongue slightly, it was sweet enough to be lewd. Anne’s cold demeanor wasn’t great, but he liked her enough to be satisfied with her body alone.
* * *
A characteristic winter scent resembling the scent of dawn wafted over the smell of old books. Anne twisted her body as the cool wind brushed her ankles and rushed up her calves.
‘Cold….’
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Her body trembled as if a chill had arrived. Gradually she grabbed the cloth that was being dragged around and pressed it against her face, something heavy pressed against her chest. As she tried to escape, this time a rocky stone suffocated her.
Anne opened her eyes at the vague feeling that it was hard to tell if it was a dream or reality, but her eyelids were heavy as if they were swollen. She felt strange. She seemed conscious but lost. It was as if she had been drunk, and her mind was so clouded.
She drank a glass of wine at lunch, so maybe she is getting drunk now. Or maybe it’s because of the tea that Marie brought to her, saying it’s good for sleep. She didn’t think it would be as effective as most teas, so she guessed it wasn’t.
Her body did not listen, as if she had been sacrificed to an unknown. She was unconsciously on the edge of somewhere, yet she still tried to keep her eyes open. As a dark shadow fell over her thin eyelids, Anne slowly began to understand the situation.
‘Oh, it’s night. The Grand Duke has come.’
So, even though she endured it, perhaps she fainted and passed out. The chill, which seemed to flow from her breath, gradually disappeared, and a scorching heat circulated through her body. Her whole body throbbed. In particular, the tingling underneath, creating the illusion of tickling ants crawling over her bare feet.
In the meantime, a strange pleasure engulfed her, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe as if the fever was boiling in her. She was hot and fervent, as if she had fallen into a scorching fire. She could feel the tears flowing down her cheeks, but someone gently licked her eyes right away.
‘Mirabo… ?’
It was the name of the dog that was buried and forgotten beyond. She remembered the childhood memories of Mirabo comforting her by licking her whenever she shed her tears. But she couldn’t because Mirabo died because of her brother.
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‘No, if it’s still a dream, wouldn’t it be possible?’
She ran at her brother who kicked Mirabo in the stomach, and was trampled on by his feet and died so horribly that Mirabo might have come to blame her even in her dreams. The screams of death and the sound of bones breaking were still vividly in her mind.
‘Then this is a dream.’
The moment she acknowledged it softly, her body shook violently. It’s like a strange sensation when she falls from a cliff she saw on my way to the north, and something grabs her body and lifts it up.
As the feeling of being pushed and dragged again like a mischievous prank was frantically repeated, her eyes flashed open.