Chapter 25 - Sweet (19+)
“You cry prettily, too.”
Even her moans sounded like a melody to his ears. He could not accurately describe the sounds coming from Isabel; they were soaked with pleasure and tinged with something sweet. Agares’ arms rested beside Isabel’s head, and the tendons he used to support himself flexed with the force of his thrusts.
His movements became faster and faster. The wet and heated sounds of their union permeated the room while their bodies blazed with fire. His hips continued moving relentlessly, not even stopping to pause when he leaned down to kiss her. Moans broke from his throat. Agares ripped his lips from hers. He panted, breath smelling of sweet liquor, before gathering enough of his senses to whisper one word.
In one, smooth thrust, his length sheathed itself in the innermost depths of her core. Isabel felt her insides, with his throbbing shaft embedded in her, undulate and tighten. Something spurted and seeped out inside her. The sticky liquid coated her walls. Agares wound a fistful of Isabel’s hair in his hand and buried the tip of his nose in it.
Isabel sank further into the bed, weak and exhausted. He slowly descended from her, his manhood still buried in her.
While they were still joined, he shifted to change their positions, lifting her on top of him.
“It’s squeezing me again.” His body moved once more as if in reflex to the stimulation. “Can I do it again?”
“Your Highness, I’m tired.”
“I still want to do more, though.”
“Well, I’ll let you rest first, so…” his voice was rough and restrained. “Don’t arouse me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Even though she was replying sarcastically, her inner walls still holding onto his erect shaft rippled.
“I told you not to squeeze.” Agares’ voice dropped even lower.
Isabel wanted to cry. This was hardly something she could control. Her body simply moved and undulated on its own as if in response to the thing inside her.
“It doesn’t listen to me.”
“I know.” Agares laughed gutturally. Holding Isabel in his arms, he spread her hair under the light and watched as it shimmered.
“D-do you like black hair?” she asked as he fiddled with her locks.
“There’s nothing that I particularly like. It doesn’t matter what color your hair is.”
“Your hair color is pretty.”
Isabel looked up at him in surprise. He looked down at her as she wriggled in his embrace.
“Don’t move. I’m getting aroused.”
“What do you mean, ‘really?’”
“That…my hair color is…pretty.”
“Why? Do you think I’m lying?”
Isabel could not decide whether to nod or shake her head in response. On the one hand, his words seemed like a lie. After all, what reason had he for complimenting someone like her? But, on the other hand, there was no reason for him to lie. Also, she sincerely wanted to believe him, even if he was lying.
“Real…really? Do you really think it’s pretty?”
This was her first time ever hearing someone call her hair color pretty. No, actually, this was the first time anyone even complimented her, period. Isabel had never liked her hair color before. To her, it was always just a plain, boring black. Would she have liked herself a bit more if she was blonde? Probably not. Isabel hated herself regardless. But, if she allowed herself to believe that Agares was telling the truth, then perhaps she could come to like her hair color in the future.
Her dark tresses were actually a deep violet, faintly indigo under the light, instead of black. But no one had ever observed that fact, however, because no one had ever been interested in her. Before Agares, no one had paid any attention to her existence, let alone her hair color.
“I don’t have any reason to lie, do I?” As he had said, someone in his position had no reason to compliment or lie to someone to please them. “It’s violet. Pretty.”
He accurately described her hair color. Isabel was perplexed. The fact that he really paid attention to this subtle detail about her began to convince her that he really did think her hair color was lovely.
“Mmm,” Agares moaned. “What’s your name?”
Though they had already spent two nights together laying with one another, Agares realized he did not even know her name. He asked the question belatedly, but Isabel was just happy that he cared to know her name in the first place.
“My name is Isabel Lance.”
“Isabel,” Agares repeated.
She could not believe that her own name was coming from his lips.
When she stared blankly in response, Agares called her again. “Are you not going to answer me?” he said, smiling.
“Yes,” she finally replied, distracted.
“Do you know my name?”
“…His Highness Agares.”
“Correct. Mmm, Lance…so, a baron?”
Agares patted Isabel’s back with his fingers as if lost in thought for a moment. She felt a sense of stability at how gentle his touch was like he was trying to appease a child. It was strange. The simple gesture comforted her yet she could not understand why.
“Are you the baron’s daughter?”