My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 279

Like a skilled swindler, he exaggerated only the parts that were favorable to him and deleted the unfavorable ones when he revealed to Giselle the dramatic conflict raging deep within his heart as he tried to love her while fulfilling his own desires.

He must have known that his resistance to this act was already losing its power.

It was all thanks to Giselle.

As he quickened the pace of his thrusts as his lover had commanded, the squelching sound of their bodies rubbing together became more like the splashing of water hitting the surface.

How could she get any wetter? Her insides are so hot it wouldn’t be surprising if all the water evaporated.

Pleasure boiled over inside Giselle. With every thrust, a dizzying sensation flashed like a spark.

Giselle, the wetter you get, the more I burn.

His solid self-control was oxidized into a mere pile of ash and scattered by the heat of her body.

He felt as if all his nerves were dead except for his penis. Edwin kept the head of his penis buried in her entrance and gripped her waist, which was so slender his fingertips could touch. As he changed the angle, he could clearly feel the tiny bumps on her vaginal walls, as if his flesh was making direct contact.

—Ah, mmm…

He felt disgusted with himself for acting no different from a horny stray dog, rubbing the tip of his penis against the woman’s insides like a madman. But as the ripples of her inner flesh became more intense and Giselle thrust against him with force, he willingly forgot himself and became nothing more than a dog.

Giselle responded passionately not just on the inside, but on the outside, too.

—Aahhh…

Her body, so much smaller and more delicate than Edwin’s, trembled and arched back fiercely. The gesture of her opening up to him was beautiful.

With his knuckles, he traced the elegant yet provocative curves of her naked body, which was adorned only with the necklace he had given her.

The ivory skin, which had been so soft and dry right after he undressed her, was now as slick as melted caramel from the heat. His fingertips sank into her fair, milky flesh. The plump, pink peak of her nipple brought to mind a ripe raspberry on a late summer day.

Between her legs, the same colored skin split open like lips, taking his long, bronze shaft all the way in before spitting it back out. It was shockingly similar to a mouth in a movie theater, eagerly sucking on a lollipop. He had a feeling he would never be able to view Giselle eating anything as simply cute again.

Giselle’s naked body, as it clashed with his, was so explicit he felt awkward just looking at it. But the thrill of this lovely body, connected to his own, being his, was too powerful for him to resist.

Edwin grabbed one of her breasts, which was round and bounced wildly to his rhythm. The flesh in his hand was heavy yet soft, a strange combination. A deep hunger stirred in his lower abdomen. He wanted to suck it into his mouth, but the delicate flesh felt as if it would burst at any moment.

—Ahnn…

Instead, he took a firm, plump nipple deep into his mouth and began to suck. Her breast, which was being squashed by Edwin’s face from his nonstop thrusting, jiggled. Her nipple slipped out when he opened his mouth to take a breath. He frantically chased it, and bit down, tasting it for a long time until the sound of him sucking her flesh grew so loud it seemed to be competing with Giselle’s cries.

—Mmm, Giselle, relax…

—Mmm, I’m not… tightening… on purpose.

He would have never pulled away if Giselle hadn’t been sucking him in from below in the exact same way, pushing him to the brink of climax.

—Ah, there! Mmm, yes. Harder. Mmm, ahh, ahh!

Giselle melted Edwin’s cold composure with not only her body but also her words.

He had always had the vague impression that sex was a one-sided act, unlike kissing, which involved both people. But with a woman who wasn’t passively lying beneath him, blindly obeying everything he did, sex didn’t feel like one-sided violence. Giselle taught Edwin that he had a preference for women who were active in bed.

—Hold my hand.

What was the reason this woman, who used to cling to his hand when she was scared, now asked him to hold it during sex? He did as he was told, intertwining his fingers with hers and pressing her hand down onto the bed, where her golden hair was spread out like a halo. Right then, she gave him a bewitching smile that made his heart leap, and twisted her hips, all while still holding a part of Edwin inside her.

—Mmm…

—Aahh…

The thick flesh scraped against the indentations around her blunt cervix, leaving no spot untouched. They both moaned, their bodies trembling in unison.

—You like this, too, don’t you?

Edwin breathed in short gasps and nodded. In truth, the languid look of satisfaction that colored Giselle’s face was more stimulating than the primal pleasure welling up from his erogenous zones. She looked too happy for words. Giselle, your happiness is my joy. As the person who had raised this woman, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied and free from guilt.

Giselle suddenly stopped her thrusts, gave him a seductive wink, and began to buck her hips furiously. It was as if everything until now had just been a warm-up, and this was the real purpose.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

—Ahh, ahh, ngh, ahh!

He couldn’t thrust hard into her delicate insides, especially not at the very end of her canal. It seemed she was getting frustrated, because she began to slam her body onto the tip of his penis herself.

The shock, as sudden and intense as a lightning strike, hit not only Edwin’s erogenous zone but his heart as well. Giselle howled, her hips rocking, as she fell into spasms. She would recoil as if afraid when their bodies collided, only to fearlessly charge back at him the moment they pulled apart. She even made love bravely, just like Giselle Bishop. But her obscene movements weren’t like the Giselle Bishop he knew, and it caught Edwin completely off guard.

The fact that Giselle’s lewd thrusting seemed holy wasn’t because he was looking at her through the rose-colored glasses of love. A woman making the expression of a figure in a holy painting, who has just fallen into a transcendent pleasure of a union between God and soul, while having sex with a man. Her eyes, unfocused and dazed, seemed to be looking up at heaven, not at Edwin.

A man who finds a face like that unbearably explicit will not go to heaven. Still, he was happy. Because Giselle Bishop was his heaven.

Her cries climbed higher, tearing his sanity to shreds. The heat of her inner flesh gripping him melted away the last bit of his composure. The soft scent of her body and the sweet taste of her saliva were intoxicating, and the subtle light in her pale eyes, which were deeply colored by the heat, was beyond beautiful. Edwin’s five senses were all completely conquered by this small woman.

Pleasure boiled over, threatening to spill. His whole body felt as if it was swelling and throbbing, on the verge of explosion. Edwin gritted his teeth, his jaw jutting out, and strained his hips until they felt as if they were sinking in. He was desperately trying to postpone his climax.

He had waited a long time for this moment. He had no desire to end it.

—More, just… a little more.

But if Giselle wanted to reach the end, he couldn’t disobey her. Edwin aimed for the spot where she reacted with a particularly intense shriek and slammed his shaft down without restraint.

The squeaking of the bed, the cries of the two people, and the rough friction of their wet bodies tangled together in a clamor. Everything was jumbled together in his mind, and he couldn’t think of anything. He had even forgotten himself, driven only by the irresistible sensation of this woman, and instinctively thrusting his hips. At some point, Giselle abruptly stopped moving, her eyes flying open as she gasped.

—Oh… what did I do…

After that whisper, which trembled faintly, Giselle couldn’t even make a sound, her entire body shaking. The tremor she was experiencing now was on a completely different level from any she had felt before.

Giselle had reached the peak of pleasure. A sense of unburdened relief, as if she had set down the weight of her life all at once, never left her face. She was so beautiful it was surreal.

When Edwin decided to take responsibility for the child who had been scarred by war, he promised he would raise her into a happy adult who had forgotten all the cruelty of the world. With the appearance of the Devil, he failed miserably, and on the day Giselle returned to the battlefield herself, he gave up, believing it was an impossible dream from the start.

How wickedly ironic it was that the answer had been right under his hips all along. While it felt empty, he also felt a thrill of catharsis that his body, which had only been a symbol of a dirty sin, had given his beloved woman so much joy.

Sex no longer felt dirty. Because it now had the meaning: Love.

Even while observing men who lived only to conquer new and more women, Edwin never understood what sex without love meant. But at the end of this journey with Giselle, he finally had his answer.

And now, he would never need to know.