RLTIC Chapter 07

Chapter 7

The Beginning Was Nothing Special (7)

Erich von Schwert had always carried himself with the impeccable dignity befitting a Grand Duke. Whether delivering cutting remarks, affecting indolence, playing the gentleman, or leading charges on the battlefield—his self-control never wavered.

Yet now, that legendary restraint had abandoned him entirely as he explored between her thighs.

More precisely, he found himself in the rather undignified position of facing paralysis and death unless he engaged in such intimate activities with her.

For a man who had known nothing but power since birth, this was his first taste of true vulnerability—having to rely on another's mercy just to survive.

While Beatrice had no objections to being intimate with him... it wasn't like she needed to see him plead for it either.

She was actually savoring how the roles reversed.

It seemed the gods of fate had finally decided to teach this man a lesson in humility.

‘How delightfully ironic.’

How does it feel to be the powerless one for once?

Perhaps it was her irritation at how he'd grown more skilled at sex while she'd gotten rusty—though she had no real reason to be irritated—but spite was building up inside her.

Beatrice wracked her brain trying to figure out how best to get under his skin.

When their eyes met, Erich's smile only grew more relaxed, even as her expression soured further. If anything, her obvious displeasure seemed to brighten his smile with genuine delight.

‘Is this really what being powerless looks like?’

Just as Beatrice, thoroughly provoked, opened her mouth to deliver a sharp retort, Erich moved suddenly.

"Have you had enough, my dear?"

"Who exactly are you calling 'dear'?"

"The woman currently beneath me."

"You bastard—"

“Come now, I do possess some talent for whispering sweet nothings in bed."

‘I don't need your damned courtesy!’

When Beatrice reached out, fully intending to yank his abundant hair in retaliation, Erich smoothly caught her hand. He pressed a kiss to her fingertips before guiding it to rest on her stomach.

"Keep pressure here while I move."

"No."

A light smack landed on her bottom.

Smack.

He landed a light slap on her bottom.

"You used to enjoy that."

"..."

"We need several rounds for the curse to break. Unless... could it be you're enjoying this so much you want to prolong it? I'm happy to oblige."

"As if."

"Why not? You seem rather...starved."

He pressed her legs wider, thrusting deeper inside her.

Beatrice turned her head aside, unable to bear the sensation of fluids trickling around, filling and stretching around her. Stroking her sensitive spots—it was all too much.

She covered her eyes with one hand.

She heard Erich's soft chuckle, followed by the rustle of fabric as he removed his shirt.

When she finally lowered her hand, he was as bare as she was.

His muscular torso displayed the pinnacle of human beauty. Even marked with her name and mapped with countless battle scars, his beauty remained undiminished.

No—those imperfections only served to enhance it, each scar a testament to survival.

He leaned over her, his shadow enveloping her completely. Trapped within his massive silhouette, Beatrice found herself studying each scar one by one.

She remembered the history of each scar, how they had formed. Some of the larger ones she had treated herself.

When his lips hovered just above hers, Beatrice released her hand from her stomach to grasp the back of his head.

Perhaps because she merely held rather than pulled, he responded with an insufferably relaxed smile to what could have been taken as a threat. 98/

Maintaining eye contact, he withdrew his c*ck slowly before entering again.

He moved at such a deliberate pace that she could feel every detail of his advance.

Given his considerable size, it took time to get all the way in. Throughout it all, Beatrice had to endure by digging her nails into his wrist that was braced beside her face.

"It really has been a while."

A kiss landed on her earlobe as Erich murmured near her ear. The bastard was deliberately targeting her weak spot, remembering how sensitive her ears were.

"Did I ever tell you how maddeningly arousing your face is when you're taking me?"

"Ugh..."

"Don't worry, dear. I remember how delicate your stamina is in these matters."

"What—ah!"

"I'll take the second round more slowly."

"You're... hah... truly... a bastard."

"Try to be more creative with your insults. They haven't improved any more than your bedroom skills."

Beatrice dug her nails more sharply into Erich's wrist.

"Being with you... feels like sinking into mud.It's disgusting."

Her cutting words made Erich freeze momentarily. After a brief stillness like a broken doll, he let out a fierce scoff.

"Look who's talking. You always make me the one who loses."

"What nonsense—"

"Still, I'll give you credit. That last hook was somewhat creative."

Before Beatrice could retort, they resumed their intimate dance. Despite his irritated expression, Erich kept his promise about taking the second round painfully slow.

The third was like a tempest.

As they continued, his technique seemed to improve in real time. By the fifth or sixth time, his ministrations left Beatrice nearly senseless.

By the time they began the seventh, she was literallyexhausted.