Liliette’s body trembled uncontrollably. There was a stark difference between closing one’s eyes voluntarily and having them covered by another object. Every nerve in her body was on edge; even her own breathing felt jarring. Her dry lips cracked, and the sensation of swallowing her own saliva became unbearable.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely. Deprived of external stimuli, she had no sense of how long she had been standing there. Standing alone in the cold night air, the only awareness she had was of her own body. The experience of being so acutely conscious of herself was entirely foreign to her.
Liliette hugged herself tightly with cold palms, causing her negligee to rustle. For a fleeting moment, she felt the urge to lift the blindfold. But what if the Duke entered at that exact moment? The uncertainty of what might happen next sent her imagination spiraling. In the end, she settled for brushing her fingers over the fabric covering her eyes, feeling the smooth texture beneath her fingertips. As her hand fell limply to her side, she heard a sound at the entrance of the room.
“Who’s there?” she gasped, her heart racing. Fear coursed through her at the thought that it might be a stranger. She instinctively took a step backward, her arms flailing in panic as she lost her balance. But instead of hitting the ground, a pair of strong arms caught her slender waist.
The man holding her towered over her, her head barely reaching his shoulder. The firmness of his body was unyielding, like clinging to a stone wall. As his intense warmth enveloped her, it felt as though they were the only two people in the world. When she realized she was wrapped in his arms, Liliette immediately pushed him away.
“Let go of me! If you don’t, I’ll call for help!”
“And who exactly would you call?”
Liliette froze. The deep, gravelly voice sent a shudder through her. She knew that voice all too well—it was one that melted her mind into a dreamy haze. Her tense shoulders relaxed. The fear and anxiety that had gripped her moments ago ebbed away, replaced by relief that the person holding her wasn’t a stranger.
“Your Grace… When did you arrive? I thought I was alone…”
Suddenly, she remembered seeing him on the mountain path—the dark knight in the forest, with eyes as red as blood, disappearing into the darkness to face the monsters alone. Now, the faint scent of blood on him sent a jolt of fear through her. He couldn’t die. Not now. Not until she bore a child or her siblings had established themselves.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” she asked anxiously, her hands frantically roaming over his body. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
“You were waiting for me?” His voice was as stern as she remembered, yet it carried a hint of warmth, almost as if he were pleased.
“I was. Very much so. They say monsters have poison. Even a small wound… Please, you must rest.”
Her hands moved feverishly over his arms, chest, and neck, exploring the solidity of his form. It felt like touching a statue carved from the densest marble—it was as if he were still clad in armor, as if there wasn’t a speck of fat in him. As her hands glided upward, they finally reached his face. She hesitated, acutely aware of the Duke’s aversion to revealing his face. Yet, he made no move to stop her.
Slowly, she placed her cold hand on his cheek. His skin was smooth—soft yet firm, with no signs of burns or scars. Even if his face had been marred with boils, it wouldn’t have mattered to her—she was used to such things. She traced his strong jawline and the straight bridge of his nose, mesmerized by how perfectly placed each feature seemed to be, as if crafted by a sculptor. As her hand brushed against his long lashes, he blinked rapidly.
Her fingers slowly descended to his soft, warm lips. He exhaled deeply and gently grasped her wrist, his grip firm yet tender.
“It seems I’m not the one you should be worried about, Lilliette,” he remarked.
He pulled her closer, his hand tightening on her waist, their lower bodies pressing together. Lilliette gasped, trying to pull away, only to feel something hot against her stomach. Her face flushed crimson. What she felt was unmistakably his arousal.
“How is this possible?” she muttered, shocked by its size and thickness. Even through their clothes, the heat and firmness between them were palpable. She wriggled in embarrassment, unaware of how much she was stimulating him.
The Duke growled softly. “Stop squirming. You’ve been patient, and now you’ll get your reward.”
Her eyes widened like a startled deer, her toes curling in fear. His breathy words sent a tingle through her, causing her face to flush. She knew all too well the implications behind his tender whisper. Hadn’t he praised her sweetly before, only to ravage her with his fingers? The memories of the overwhelming sensations thrilled her with a mix of fear and anticipation, and she felt herself grow wet as the pleasurable feelings surfaced once more. Liliette tried to suppress her desire, pushing against his solid chest.
“A reward? Whatever it is, I don’t need it,” she declared, though she couldn’t hide the waver in her voice.
“You know exactly what it is,” he teased. “In fact, you seem to be anticipating it.”
Each involuntary reaction of her body was transmitted through their skin, each brush igniting a fire within her. He pressed his firm leg against hers, and the more he pressed, the more aware she became of the heat radiating from his arousal. What would it feel like, she wondered, to have that inside her instead of his fingers? The vulgar thought made her throat go dry, her heart pounding so loudly it seemed to echo inside her skull.
The Duke chuckled softly, a sound that sent a flush of warmth through her. Something touched her lower lip—his hand, most likely. A shiver ran down her spine, making her jump.
“Wait… Please, let me take this off,” she pleaded, feeling around for the black cloth covering her eyes as she tried to steady her breath. The blindfold was too much—she couldn’t read his expressions, gaze, or reactions. She felt his calloused hand gently grasp her delicate wrist.
“No,” he whispered languidly. “Tell me how my touch feels in the dark, Liliette.”
His breath was laced with an intoxicating heat that seemed to melt her thoughts into a sweet haze. Her heart fluttered, caught between fear and yearning. As his hand slowly slid down the inside of her wrist, it felt as if every nerve in her body followed the path of his touch. Her breathing grew ragged, her chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm. She couldn’t fathom what he was asking.
His hand trailed further down her arm, finally brushing against her chest. His touch was teasing, grazing her ribs without quite reaching her breasts. She shuddered; each fleeting caress made her ache for more, igniting a desperate need deep within her.
“This feels… strange, Your Grace,” Liliette whispered, her voice trembling. She had never known such intimacy. She had thought intercourse was about satisfying the man—after all, her previous husbands had cared for nothing else.
“These strange acts are making you wet,” murmured the Duke, his hand slipping between her legs. “In fact, you seem perfectly content.”
Liliette tried to pull away, but she found herself ensnared in the grip of desire and fear. He buried his face in her slender neck, his moist lips leaving a trail of warmth as they moved upward. When he bit her nape, a sharp breath escaped her lips. As his lips gently soothed the bite marks, heat pooled in Liliette’s lower belly, stirring a confusion of pleasure and anxiety.
When his lips reached her ear, a shiver ran through her, eliciting a soft moan. His hand expertly pressed and rubbed against her drenched inner thighs through her clothes, sparking a fire that made her arch her back, breathy whimpers escaping her lips.
“Please, let me untie the blindfold,” she gasped. “This feels… strange.”
“Liliette,” he said, his voice suddenly turning cold, the seductive tone gone. The shift in his tone caused her to swallow hard and clamp her mouth shut, her body tensing with fear. But his voice softened again as he said, “Remember, I dislike repeating myself.”
Before she could react, his hand slipped inside her, the sudden intrusion making her vision blur. She clung to his shoulder, a cry escaping her lips. Several fingers entered her at once, the overwhelming pressure making her breath catch in her throat. Every sensation in her body seemed to converge on that single spot, burning intensely with each movement.
He withdrew his hand slowly, teasingly, only to thrust back in deeply, a rhythm that sent shockwaves through her body. The pleasure that had spread to her very fingertips now pooled low in her abdomen, tightening with every pulse of his touch. Liliette gasped for air, her forehead falling against his broad shoulder as her body writhed uncontrollably. Her face flushed, the warmth spreading down her neck and betraying the storm building inside her.
Her legs trembled, on the verge of giving out, forcing her to cling to him more tightly for support. The soft fabric of his clothes felt rough against her skin, heightening the sharpness of every touch. The Duke sighed deeply, his grip tightening around her waist. His strength both anchored her and unraveled her as his thick fingers explored her insides like a ravenous hunter.
“You’re devouring me, Liliette. Like an insatiable beast…” he whispered like a predator, his teeth grazing her nape once again.
The wetness of his tongue and the sharpness of his teeth made her swell and grow even wetter below. As he tightened his arm around her, thrusting his fingers in and out, the sound of their combined wetness filled the air. Each time his long fingers plunged deeply inside her, his thumb expertly rubbed her swollen nub outside. The intense stimulation inside and out made Liliette sob uncontrollably, her hips moving to match his rhythm. The overwhelming pleasure made her legs weak.
“Oh, ah— ah! I can’t… stand anymore— no, please, I can’t…!” she cried out, her words slurring as she trembled.
The Duke gripped her waist even more firmly. “Relax and lean on me. I’ll take care of everything.”