To My First Love, With Regret - 76

As if he had no intention of wasting more time smoking, Ethan snatched the cigarette from her hand and crushed it into an ashtray. Her expectation that he would pounce on her immediately was proven entirely wrong.

The man headed toward the gramophone, pulled out a random record, and placed it on the platter. Without taking his eyes off Eve, he slowly lowered the needle onto the groove, signaling what was to come.

—It would be troublesome if our «private conversation» leaked outside.

Eve’s eyes sharpened.

So he plans to hide the tryst? What a transparent lie.

In the middle of a party, the sound of music blaring from a secluded room was nothing short of a blatant advertisement that a man and woman were getting intimate inside.

Eve rushed forward and lifted the needle from the turntable just as the intro began to play. Ethan mocked her.

—Why? Is the Princess of Kentrell planning to give a «USO performance» with that lovely voice for the officers of the Mercian Third Army?

To compare the moans of a woman he once loved to a «performance» for a crowd of men—Eve wanted to smash the record over the head of this ill-mannered beast, but she couldn’t afford to lose the opportunity she had finally seized. Suppressing her fury, she retorted:

—…There will be no «leaking» of conversations.

Ethan let out a scoffing laugh.

—Since when did you ever know how to keep your voice down…?

Ethan had committed the error of a novice swordsman. In his attempt to cut his enemy, he had sliced his own flesh. As soon as he dragged out the memories he had tried to bury just to sting Eve, Ethan himself was mangled by them.

The ethereal, melodic sounds of pleasure she used to offer only to him ten years ago—clinging to his lead—stuck to his ears and refused to fall away.

—Ah… perhaps this was too vulgar for My Lady’s tastes?

Blaming his innocent selection of music, he turned his attention to another record.

—Then how about this one?

—Is this a dance hall? Are you expecting me to sway my hips to the beat?

Eve wore an expression suggesting that the mere thought was enough to kill her desire, but her opponent surpassed her imagination.

—Oh dear, what shall I do? I find I can’t get it up these days without music.

…Does such a bizarre paraphilia even exist in this world?

Knowing one extraordinary deviant already, Eve decided to graciously offer her sincere concern for Ethan’s «music-deficient erectile dysfunction.»

—I’m actually curious to see if it truly won’t stand.

Eve grabbed the tie of the man attempting to place the record on the turntable and yanked it violently. The record slipped from his hand and shattered between their boots with a sharp crack, sending shards flying.

In the eyes of Eve as she crashed her lips against his, a spark of defiance flared—a will to crush his pathetic excuses and vile intentions.

You’re trying to make it obvious we’ve slept together by pretending you can’t perform? You lunatic.

But what can you do? I’m quite a lunatic myself. Enough to lock tongues with a monster rather than get caught in a tryst.

Even if, internally, she was swallowing a scream no different from a death rattle.

Acting the part of a shameless clown, begging for a night with an ex-lover who betrayed her, was nothing short of self-mutilation.

Ethan, too, played the part of a libertine whose brain resided in his crotch, yet he was swallowing Eve’s saliva along with his silent curses.

The sheer audacity of her, stealing my kiss again.

He wanted to push her away, but he only accepted it for fear that the high-and-mighty Princess might bolt the gates of her castle shut.

Bold, dominant lips. A soft texture, yet moving with a ferocity that ground everything beneath it. The way Eve kissed hadn’t changed at all; it was exactly as he remembered. This was no longer a spell to awaken love. It was a torture, enduring the breath of a traitor for the sake of revenge.

Was there a name for two people who wanted to discard each other, yet couldn’t be with anyone else? These former lovers, now enemies, wore the most humiliating masks for their own arrogant purposes as they forced themselves to accept each other’s lips.

Crunch.

The sound of wet flesh tangling and colliding mixed with the sound of something being trampled and broken. The record, snapped in two, was crushed beyond recognition under the boots of the two enemies as they staggered in their kiss like a test of strength. Just like their pride.

The revulsion toward this forced kiss and the self-loathing for abusing herself soon evolved into a rage directed at the opponent—the cause of all this humiliation.

Ethan gripped the woman’s jaw as if to break it and swallowed her lips. Eve dug her nails into the nape of the man pressing down on her. The cold kiss transformed into a friction of sparks in a collision where it was impossible to tell who had started it.

No matter how much Eve fought back, she could not win against Ethan’s strength. She was pushed back, falling helplessly onto the card table.

—Haah, gasp….

Without giving her a moment to catch her breath, Ethan hovered over her, descending as if to bite her lips off. He devoured her greedily, like an invader taking his spoils.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was closer to a battle between beasts trying to choke the life out of one another. For what they were engaged in was not love, but war.

Eve, her mind growing hazy under Ethan’s weight, suddenly snapped back to her senses at a hard sensation felt against her inner thigh. Realizing what it was, she tore her lips away from the beast that wouldn’t let go and burst into an uncontrollable laugh.

—My God. Did I just cure your «illness»?

Ethan gritted his teeth as he heard her shamelessly mocking his body’s reaction to her.

Damn it, why is it standing like that?

The fact that his body had responded was a necessity for his plan, but instead of praising himself, Ethan wanted to strike his own face. It wasn’t just a physiological reaction.

Because he had loved her once, his body—possessing a memory of its own—was craving the enemy who had thrown him in prison. Not only had he been betrayed by the woman who was once half of his soul, but now he was being betrayed by his own flesh.

—Ha, I had no idea I possessed the talent of a master physician….

Her loathsome mockery cut short the moment Ethan yanked up the hem of her dress and slip in one go. As she tried to press her thighs together—perhaps out of a lingering sense of shame—he snatched them with both hands and forced them apart with brutal strength.

—Ha….

He didn’t even need to touch her to know. The center of her silk underwear was so damp it had become translucent, offering a suggestive glimpse of the pink flesh beneath.

The moment he confirmed that Eve, too, was in heat for him, Ethan shuddered with a twisted sense of relief and triumph.

You’re just a pathetic human after all.

At the same time, he felt disgusted. To see the woman who had once discarded love to protect her «honor» now discarding that precious honor for nothing more than base lust was revolting.

—How does it feel to be soaking wet for a guy like me?

She seemed to feel the sting of shame. As she struggled to pull down her dress and hide her humiliating state, she glared at him with murderous intent. Meeting those lethal eyes, Ethan slid one hand up the smooth interior of her thigh.

The moment his hand neared her labia, Eve winced in horror and grabbed his wrist with her small, laughable hand.

—Don’t touch me.

—Then how am I supposed to scratch where you itch, My Lady?

Eve bit her lip as if she wanted to tear him apart, then looked away and let out a small sigh. Was it resignation? She began to pull down her own underwear. Ethan watched the scene, which was appetizing in more ways than one, and licked his lips.

—To think the high-born Princess would lower her own underwear because she’s so desperate to be taken by a gutter-thug. I’m honored.

He couldn’t resist the urge to sneer, even though he knew it was a stupid mistake that could kick away this golden opportunity. The proud Princess he knew would surely leave, unable to endure any more humiliation.

Yet, as if she had truly fallen into slavery to her own libido, the Lady did not pull her underwear back up despite his blatant mockery. She even went so far as to unfasten the garter clips holding up her stockings. She knew she couldn’t ask to be taken with her underwear tangling her legs.

—My Lady, why are you acting like a woman who’s never been with a man before?

—Gasp!

Compared to him, her body was absurdly small and light. Ethan lifted her easily, flipped her over, and slammed her facedown onto the card table.

—From behind will do.

While a disoriented Eve scrambled to find her footing on the floor, Ethan ripped his belt open and yanked his zipper down. He hiked up the fabric that had slid down to cover his target. Her underwear was hung awkwardly between her hips and thighs; he pulled it down past the dangling garter clips.

Eve’s wet flesh was exposed. He was facing the very part of her that had once made him lose his mind with excitement ten years ago, but now, it looked only like a target. As he pressed his member against her, he remained as cold and clinical as a sniper leveling his scope.

The moment their skin met with a sticky heat, Ethan reflexively held his breath. Her entrance was already pulsing loathsomely, as if trying to devour him.

You’re the one who’s going to be devoured.

Ethan gritted his teeth and thrust himself into the abyss.

—Ah!

—Ugh….

The card table swayed violently. As Eve reached out to steady herself, the poker chips and cards someone had left scattered fell to the floor in a chaotic clatter.

One seeking to plant the seeds of revenge, and the other seeking the seeds of life. On the stage of this gambling table, a humiliating ritual began, with both offering themselves as the sacrifice.