Oscar continued pressing wet kisses along her skin, as though carving a path into it.
He buried his face against her, kissing down the sharp ridge of her shoulder blade. His lips and the strands of her fallen hair brushed over her exposed skin, leaving a faint tickling sensation. Seoh-a found it unbearable. She clutched at the torn fabric slipping from her body, but her senses were already drawn elsewhere, overwhelmed by the stronger stimulation.
“P-please stop…”
If Seoh-a had realized that what she believed to be a steady voice sounded like a plea, she would have bitten down on her lip to silence herself.
Her pleas, which until now had been attempts to endure and hold back, only stirred the demon within Oscar further.
He looked down at her in his arms. The sight of her hands clutching the fabric at her chest seemed pitiful. Yet her breasts, visible beneath her undergarment, rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths.
Everything about this woman was sensual.
Oscar lowered his head and slowly traced the sensitive curve of her earlobe with his tongue. She felt her already yielding body slacken further. Pressing his entire body against hers and focusing solely on her reactions, Oscar did not miss the moment her strength faltered.
The instant her resistance weakened, he deepened the kiss. He pushed her hands aside and grasped her breasts. Seoh-a belatedly reached for his hand, but Oscar ignored her and dragged down the bra that had been supporting her swollen breasts.
Because the bra had lifted them from beneath, once loosened, they seemed even fuller.
“Your Excellency, please…”
Her voice broke as she pleaded. It was not the first time they had been intimate in this way, yet this felt more difficult to endure than the first. Why was he suddenly kissing her neck, her ears, her shoulders? Each time his mouth touched those places, everything else receded, leaving behind only a strange, swelling sensation.
No matter how she begged, he did not stop the actions that unsettled her. She would have preferred to be shaken violently, to writhe under sharp pain. That, she could endure.
But this was different.
It felt like slowly pressing a summer peach—ripened to the point that it would dent under the slightest touch—against her ear. As though that peach were being crushed there, its lukewarm juice seeping inward, some of it trickling down her neck.
Where that sweet, sticky juice flowed, an indescribable sensation spread. “Ticklish” was too mild, and “goosebumps” was inaccurate. The beginning resembled goosebumps, but what followed was entirely different.
Her body continued to dissolve, as though melting beneath a summer sun. The world before her was dark, yet something burned against her back, heating her from within.
The sensation of being steeped in peach juice dragged her abruptly into a dreamlike state she had never known.
She felt a hand stroke through her hair. Her scalp tingled. At the same time, her body softened further.
“Haa…”
In that world where sensation alone remained, Seoh-a forgot even the person she leaned against.
The black sun heating her was at her back.
Oscar studied her closely. Seoh-a had gone limp against his chest. The woman who had bitten her lips until they bled was now breathing softly against him. Her unfocused eyes, parted lips, and flushed cheeks appeared more sensual than her exposed breasts.
The demon within him, which had wanted to devour her, whispered.
Melt her completely. Heat her further. Melt her until sweet juice spills.
She was like fruit ripening under slow warmth, not under blazing fire. Oscar restrained his impatience and chose to become that slow heat.
He drew her fully into his arms and lifted his hand. Like the tip of a pen outlining the figure of a naked woman, he traced the contours of her body. He passed over her hollow collarbone and the lean ribs defining her frame, then slowly followed the curve of her rounded, fruit-like breasts.
When his fingers finally reached the tip of that rounded fruit, Seoh-a—who had been completely relaxed—gasped and twisted.
Until now he had coaxed her gently. This time, Oscar cupped both breasts firmly in his hands. Holding them in his palms, he began rubbing her nipples with his thumbs. The softened peaks quickly hardened and protruded after only a few strokes.
Seoh-a twisted again, looking up at him.
“Don’t do this, rather—”
“Rather what?”
She said nothing.
A sharp intensity flashed in Oscar’s eyes, which had been steadily heating her.
“You mean, rather fuck me?”
How amusing. After melting her so thoroughly, that was all she could say?
Using his bandaged hand to hold both her breasts in place, Oscar slid his uninjured left hand beneath her stocking. Seoh-a writhed, but she could not overcome his rough strength.
Oscar parted her legs with his own. Her knees came to rest against his thighs. She struggled, but his solid body did not yield.
Oscar slowly lifted her underwear as though punishing her. As the stiff fabric rose, her damp, dark center was quietly exposed. Holding Seoh-a firmly with his bandaged hand, he reached into her most private place.
The moment he realized that where he touched was completely wet—overflowing as if a spring had burst—his reason collapsed.
She was wet. So wet that her underwear was soaked, as though water had been poured over it. This slender woman was soaked.
That fact drove him mad.
There was no need to search for the source deep within. She was already saturated. Oscar began rubbing her clitoris with his thumb.
Even as she squirmed, she had already weakened. She had already been heated to the point of such wetness. As his thumb moved over her, the body that had been arching stiffly quickly clung to him. She twisted, cried out, and struggled for breath.
Still rubbing her clitoris, he slid his middle finger deep inside her. Her sensitive muscles closed tightly around the finger that entered without resistance. Oscar vigorously thrust into the soft, yielding flesh.
“Haa…”
Held against him as he began moving inside her, Seoh-a gripped his arm tightly.
When his finger pressed somewhere deep within, fear surged through her—the fear that that moment, the one she had not been able to comprehend before, would return again. The sensation of her entire body melting and being drawn into the small opening in her lower abdomen, the thought of how she must have looked in that instant, terrified her.
She must have made strange sounds.
It must have been ugly. She might have looked like a beast. No—she definitely had. Her chest felt as though it were collapsing. She never wanted to reveal that side of herself again. So please, stop.
“Please stop…”
Clutching his arm, Seoh-a pleaded. But his expression remained fierce, and he did not respond. She could not bring herself to look at what was happening between her legs. Yet the sensation of his hand stirring inside her, the firm, relentless movement, left her breathless.
A damp haze spread upward from below, circling through her from head to toe.
“No…”
Her body weakened as though swallowed by fog. Then the intense sensation returned—her entire body melting, being drawn into that opening below.
Seoh-a could do nothing but let go.
Her body arched like a drawn bow, her toes stretching rigidly.
“Ah, ugh.”
Sounds she could not believe were her own escaped before she could stop them. She could not cover her mouth. She could not think clearly enough to react.
Inside her, he pressed again. The sensation she had believed would end after one wave returned, stronger. Her legs instinctively tried to close. A sharp, lightning-fast feeling cut through the melting heat.
“No, I don’t like it.”
She did not know what she was saying. She only wanted to escape the sensation. But at that moment, another finger entered her. When the two fingers pressed the sensitive spot at the same time, her vision went black.
“Haa, yes—ah, no…”
With the broken sound of a moan, she felt something spill from within. Warm liquid flowed out against her will, and even as it did, her body trembled in that melting state.
The trembling felt like sinking into deep swamp water. The thought that what had burst from her had wet Oscar’s hand made her wish she could disappear at once—to die right then and there.
“Ah…”
Han Seoh-a, who never did anything properly.
Han Seoh-a, for whom nothing went as she wished.
A wretched Han Seoh-a.
Oscar stared blankly at the crying Seoh-a. The woman who had been moaning as though her eardrums would melt, overwhelmed by pleasure, was now sobbing as if something unbearably sorrowful had happened. She covered her face with both hands, repeatedly murmuring apologies.
“I’m sorry, Your Excellency. I’m sorry.”
“……”
Oscar, still staring at her, abruptly pulled her hands away from her face. As she turned her head to avoid his gaze, he cupped her cheek and growled,
“What are you apologizing for?”
In her face, he saw the same expression he had once seen at Felpe. That contradictory face—shame and anguish mixed together even while heat still lingered in her body.
“I’m asking what you’re apologizing for.”
His voice came out sharp, edged.
“I dirtied your hands.”
Tears slid down her cheeks and soaked into his bandages. Oscar's sharp demeanor, which had been honed to a blue edge, faltered.
“I did it on purpose…”
The words she could not finish dissolved into tears.
“It wasn’t on purpose.”
“……”
Oscar’s eyes hollowed, dark and empty.
The wound in his palm—one he had forgotten—throbbed again.
In her clear brown eyes, he saw loathing—self-directed and raw. He could not tell whether he was seeing his own reflection in her gaze, or hers.
—