To My First Love, With Regret - 84

It was a humiliating dilemma. Especially since he had never felt even a flicker of sexual desire for other women, let alone a conflict like this. Where on earth could one go to cure this disease of becoming a slave to lust only for that traitor?

It would have been encouraging if Ethan had overcome the temptation on his own, but pathetically, it was Eve who fished him out. She belatedly realized she was exposing her breasts and hurriedly covered them.

At the sight of her immense fluster, Ethan couldn’t suppress a hollow laugh. They had already seen everything there was to see, yet here she was, coming to have sex and then covering herself—she was a ridiculous woman.

Maybe you should wear a suit of armor next time.

His gaze was repeatedly drawn to her breasts, their shape clear even through the covering. Ethan forced his eyes upward with sheer grit, fixing them on the tip of the woman’s upturned chin.

Eve held her head high and stared only at the wall, though her eyes were squeezed shut. She would open them every now and then, but….

—Nngh….

It was always, without fail, at the moment Ethan groaned. Seeing her awkwardly avoid his gaze when their eyes met, he wondered if she was doing it unconsciously. Even though she faced only the wall and not him, he could see her cheeks flushing a deep red.

—…Why are you looking?

The woman actually had the nerve to rebuke him, as if she were the one embarrassed.

—Then where should I look? Or you could just bare your chest again.

Eve lowered her gaze as if to glare at him, but then hesitated and averted her eyes to the empty space beside them. She stopped her hip movements and leaned over, reaching for the nightstand. She was going to turn off the lamp.

—Why turn off the light? Are you planning to poke my nose and turn my face into a pancake this time?

Ethan grabbed Eve’s waist and yanked her back down onto him. His member, which had almost slipped out and was hanging precariously at the entrance, slid all the way back in and slammed against the end of her canal.

—Ahhk!

It was a self-inflicted blow.

—Ha, dammit….

As a sharp pleasure shot up his spine, Ethan tightened his grip on Eve’s waist and twisted his body.

He thought he was the only one dissatisfied with succumbing to pleasure, but Eve also looked down at him with a disgruntled face before letting out a sigh heavy enough to sink the floor.

But why was she suddenly picking up the pillow?

—What, mmph….

And why was she pressing it down over his face?

Before Ethan could even throw the pillow aside, Eve’s merciless thrusting began.

—Ah, ugh, haa….

He turned his head to the side, barely inhaling through the gap as he raised his voice.

—I had no idea Lady Evelyn was a pervert who gets off on suffocation. I didn’t mean we should have the kind of relationship where you kill me to leave no loose ends.

In truth, Eve wasn’t pressing the pillow down hard enough to actually suffocate him. That left only one possible intention.

—Is my face so disgusting that you can’t possibly do this unless you cover it up?

My cock is bigger, but is that four-eyes’ face better?

She once told him she’d never get tired of looking at his face for the rest of her life—how could a person change this much? No matter what excuse Eve offered, his mood, which had been cast into the gutter, could not be salvaged.

—It’s the opposite. I’m being considerate, in case you get discouraged from looking at my face.

—If I keep receiving that ‘consideration’ so passionately, I’ll end up the most kindly murdered man in the world.

Consideration, my foot. This woman was merely using him as a masturbation sleeve. Even a male prostitute gets looked in the eye. Ethan gritted his teeth at the Lady’s attitude, which didn’t even treat him like a human being.

If he wanted to get this woman out from under him, the only way was to cum quickly and send her away. Following that logic, he intended not to hold back the climax at all, and yet….

—Ahhk, still not… done? Ah, wait, ugh, no…. Haa-ugh….

—Nngh, you’re absolutely devouring me…. Ha… dammit….

It was only after Eve finished first, forcing him to follow, that Ethan realized: despite his resolve, he had been delaying his ejaculation all along.

…Why did I hold back?

Ethan sank into the quagmire of self-loathing once again, yet he didn’t stop his lower body. He gripped Eve’s waist tight so she couldn’t flee and thrust upward violently, greedily ejaculating inside her.

The rough movement caused her cervix to bob up and down, repeatedly hitting his glans. It clung to him, took the full hit of his semen, and then receded.

Please, go in.

However, because the position was unfavorable, the semen began to flow straight back down and drench the base of his cock.

Dammit….

—Hah, what are you….

Ethan abruptly pulled Eve into an embrace and flipped their bodies over. Having pinned her beneath him, he toyed with her earlobe and the nape of her neck, but this was merely a smokescreen. His entire focus was on Eve’s ‘path of conception,’ which he had filled with his seed and plugged tight with his cock.

Suddenly, Ethan stopped the act of enjoying the afterglow. He had felt a sense of dissonance from Eve as she lay there quietly receiving his touch.

Eve had surely seen the semen leaking out of her, as well.

Because she had frozen in surprise, he quickly pinned her beneath him, fearing she might run off to wash out the semen. He had fully expected her to push him away. He expected her to be furious, asking why he’d ejaculated inside without even asking. For a woman like her, wouldn’t the ‘correct’ response be to get up immediately and go scrub away his filthy seed?

But Eve just lay there in silence. Even though Ethan knew he had to keep his mouth shut for the sake of his plan, he couldn’t suppress this persistent doubt. He deliberately faced Eve, contorting his eyes as if he’d made a mistake, and confessed to the crime he had already been caught committing.

—Sorry. I came inside.

Eve gazed at him for a long while with eyes that betrayed nothing of her thoughts, then replied with an unbelievable indifference.

—It’s fine.

—Why?

Could she possibly want my child….

—It’s a safe day.

With those few words, Ethan’s blood turned ice-cold. To think the result of enduring this humiliating affair was an absolute waste of effort. He had merely been used as a ‘dildo’ to satisfy Evelyn Sherwood’s lust.

—…Well, that’s a relief.

He wanted to stop this meaningless and degrading service immediately, but Ethan continued the foreplay through clenched teeth. Only after calculating the right timing to end the play did he finally pull away from the woman.

As soon as Ethan straightened his clothes, he turned his back to her and sat on the edge of the bed. Eve stared blankly at the man’s back, which somehow felt out of place, and asked like a hollow-headed woman:

—Do you want to go again?

—No.

—Why?

—It’s late.

He said it was late, yet he picked up a silver flask from the side table. That coldly rigid back was far from the indifferent rudeness of a man who had finished his business. Rather, it looked closer to frustration.

Like a loser who had failed to achieve his goal for the night.

…Wasn’t satisfying your lust with my body your goal?

The gaze with which Eve watched him grew sharp.

Ethan Fairchild, what is your true purpose for sleeping with me?

If one excluded the discharge of desire, there was only one thing a man could gain from Eve’s body.

A child.

A child with the right of succession to the Dukedom of Kentrell.

—Sorry. I came inside.

At the moment he said those words, Ethan Fairchild had been the archetype of an irresponsible man trying to cover an irreversible mistake with a mere apology. Because of that common attitude, she hadn’t suspected his intentions.

If anything, Eve had been afraid her own intentions would be discovered.

He must not find out that I am deliberately trying to have his child. He must not find out that the child I will have is his.

—It’s a safe day.

The smokescreen she had deployed to hide her intent had, unexpectedly, exposed Ethan’s. He should have been relieved to hear that a child wouldn’t be conceived, yet he looked devastated instead.

Like a hunter who had ultimately lost his desired prey and had to return empty-handed. The sense of dissonance began at that moment.

The suspicion that had been as faint as mist took the shape of conviction. In that instant, Eve felt a wave of dizziness, as if the ground beneath her feet had given way entirely.

Ethan Fairchild was not a beast after Eve’s body.

He was a thief after her family name.

In Eve’s eyes, hot anger and a cold sense of crisis blazed simultaneously. Another thief had appeared, intending to hold Eve’s child hostage once again to steal what was hers.

Why did Ethan Fairchild return to these cursed white cliffs?

Eve had always wondered that.

Because he couldn’t let go of a revenge that was already over? No. This man had returned because his goal from the very beginning was to seize Kentrell.

Your revenge wasn’t over yet.

Eve could not understand that vengeful ghost.

You’ve already punished everyone who sinned against you with your own hands, so why on earth won’t you stop?

This could no longer be called revenge. It was merely greed wearing the mask of vengeance.

She wanted to strike that hideous face right this second, but Eve had no choice but to clench her teeth—trembling with rage—and hide her claws.

For Eve, too, was a thief who had come to steal his seed, and this theft was not yet over.