CWMBR 66

Chapter 66

***

Sponsored by Curufin. Thank you ❤️(5/5)

***

*The past

The flesh that parted her lips and entered was relentless.

The sensation of another's tongue tip brushing hers and pressing against her palate was utterly unfamiliar. A tingling sensation spread intensely throughout her mouth, almost painfully stimulating. Caught off guard by the flood of sensation, Bridget wandered, unable to find a place to put her hands. Ain, without breaking the kiss, caught her hand, suspended in the air, and draped it over his shoulder. As Bridget wrapped her arms around his neck, following his lead, their bodies drew so close they were almost intertwined.

As they drew closer, the invasion swirling inside her mouth deepened. Her jaw ached from being stretched wide to accommodate his tongue, which explored every crevice and curve of her teeth and flesh as if searching every inch. An overwhelming amount of saliva overflowed, trickling down her jawline.

"Haah."

Bridget, gasping for air, finally twisted her head urgently, searching for the breath she lacked. A sliver of breathing space opened between their tightly pressed skin. A faint, pained voice escaped through that opening.

But the respite was brief. Her lips were captured again, forcing her to swallow the moan she'd been about to release. Just moments ago, he'd swirled around inside her mouth; now, he sucked with such intensity it felt like he was trying to devour her very core. The force was so strong it made her tongue root ache, physiological tears welling up. Bridget clung to him almost desperately.

Her bold provocation had been admirable, but once the kiss began, she couldn't even muster the courage to try anything. She was merely scrambling to keep up with his aggressive advances. In the meantime, Bridget was now completely trapped within Ain’s embrace. He forced her into a position where one arm was wedged between the back of her head and the wall, holding her close, while his other hand firmly held her jaw in place, preventing her from moving.

“Hmph……………”

When her lips occasionally slipped, letting out a faint moan, Ain turned her head as if refusing to tolerate even that, pressing their lips together perfectly once more. He sucked fiercely, released, then scraped gently against her lips, repeating this cycle over and over.

Even when she couldn't control the rising breath and pushed his lips away, the gap lasted only an instant. It felt like all her senses were concentrated on her lips, and later, even the numbness faded. Yet strangely, even amidst the overwhelming sensation, she felt no desire to push him away or escape him.

Instead, she wanted to touch him more. Even as she clung to his neck, buried in his embrace, helplessly floundering under the kisses he poured onto her.

And it seemed he felt the same desire.

Bridget, half-mad from the overwhelming sensation, blinked slowly. He, who had been obsessively biting her lips without letting go, was finally shifting his attention elsewhere. He licked the glistening corners of her mouth with his tongue, then deliberately bit her cheek with his teeth. Soon, he moved his lips toward her earlobe and exhaled hot breath.

"You weren't planning on just kissing all night, were you?"

His voice, raspy with desire, murmured softly into her ear. Simultaneously, the tongue that had just been exploring her mouth traced the curve of her ear.

"Well, I'm not."

"Haa."

Bridget let out a short, hollow breath and hunched her shoulders. A tingling sensation, like being struck by lightning, shot straight down from her nape to her spine. Noticing her sensitive reaction, the man let out a savage laugh with a smirk.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry."

A damp, hot mass of flesh ruthlessly probed her ear canal.

"I've been waiting a long time."

Was it too much to think that statement didn't just refer to tonight?

Her thoughts didn't linger long. A slurping sound flowed in like a direct hit, completely scrambling her mind.

Bridget let out a choked sob and shook her head. It was an instinctive struggle to escape the bone-chilling sensation that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. But trapped within the man's body, she had nowhere to run. In the end, Bridget could only desperately cling to his neck, clutching it like a lifeline, her senses sharpened by the touch.

"Patrick. Wait, just... wait!"

"The night is short, Bridget."

Anticipating the wave of pleasure about to hit her, Bridget's body stiffened rigidly. Ain wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up in one swift motion. Even as he strode purposefully toward the inner sofa, he showered Bridget, trapped helplessly in his embrace, with a flurry of small kisses.

"There's no time to linger."

It was almost like a vow he made to himself. His dark blue eyes swallowed her whole, drawing her into an endless abyss.

Bathed in the dim moonlight, the man's body was like a sculpture.

Bridget felt once more like she stood alone in the darkened museum. The sight of the sculpture coming to life was nothing short of wondrous. Droplets of sweat glistening on his smooth, taut muscles—not an ounce of excess fat—were particularly striking.

He moved like a stallion bred for a single purpose. Bridget was remarkable for enduring him without fainting, as he relentlessly crushed and drove her body without tiring.

Then, as the sun began to rise faintly outside the window, Ain collapsed like a puppet whose strings had snapped and fell asleep. Bridget was startled to see the man who had shown no sign of fatigue moments before suddenly collapse, but she relaxed when she saw him breathing evenly.

It was only human to collapse. Was this something a person should do?

The events of the previous night felt utterly detached from Bridget's sense of reality.

Gazing at Ain, who slept soundly with eyes closed, Bridget, who had been gasping for breath, groaned and raised her upper body. Her entire body was mottled, a testament to how relentlessly the man had desired her.

Honestly, if the act had continued just a little longer, Bridget might have passed out like that man. But she was clinging to her senses with unyielding willpower. Unlike that man, who was so drunk he didn't even know where he was, she was acutely aware that this place was the Glynford Grand Theatre.

It would be a lie to say she wasn't distracted by the carnal desire she'd never experienced before. Yet, the bare minimum of social decorum—the thought that she couldn't let the staff see her like this—barely preserved her sanity. Fortunately, the night duty room where they'd spent the night had a very small, simple bathroom attached. It was only natural, since it was a duty room for night workers.

After quickly cleaning up, Bridget hurried back to the mansion, careful not to be seen by anyone. She planned to properly wash up, rest a little, and then face Ain with a clear head.

However, the very fact that she had returned to the mansion instead of sleeping beside Ain was a superhuman feat of willpower, pushing beyond her physical limits. As if to prove it, after arriving at the mansion and washing up, she spent the next two days straight in bed.

Her entire body ached as if she had the flu, and she felt utterly drained.

And during those two days she lay sick, no one came looking for her.

After resting thoroughly and returning to normal, Bridget headed straight for the Grand Theater. The unfamiliar Grand Theater, once filled with revelers and noise, had returned to its usual state as if nothing had happened. Bridget inquired about Ain’s whereabouts, but no one knew.

After much deliberation, she decided to go directly to Ain’s mansion. After all, she needed to talk about what happened that night at least once. Even though he hadn't contacted her once during the two days she was sick...

It would be a lie to say she wasn't hurt by that, but what could she do? He might have been too hungover to look after her.

Fortunately, Ain was at the mansion. Bridget saw his face looked somewhat hollow and gaunt.

It seemed he truly hadn't been feeling well either. Realizing he hadn't deliberately avoided contacting her eased the knot of hurt that had been tightening inside her.

"You must have been feeling unwell."

"A little."

His condition didn't seem fully recovered yet. He faced her with a sharp, edgy sensitivity. He seemed unnecessarily fierce for someone merely sick, but it didn't register with Bridget, who was secretly excited about establishing a new relationship with him.

"But what brings you here?"

The refreshments hadn't even arrived yet. Bridget faltered at his demeanor, which seemed to indicate he didn't want to talk for long. With a vague expression, she belatedly checked his complexion and realized he was in a very sharp state. His blue eyes were so cold and barren it was hard to believe they belonged to the same person whose gaze had once been consumed by passion as he watched her.

Bridget unconsciously swallowed dryly and awkwardly lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Well, we need to talk, Patrick."

At her words, Ain frowned openly.

"Patrick?"

"Huh?"

He stared at her as if she were utterly rude. Bridget, watching Ain with a bewildered expression, stammered out a reply.

"You told me to call you by your name. You did."

"When did I?"

At that point, she sensed something was terribly wrong.

"………………The night of the party."

"Ah, that night."

Ain's eyebrow twitched. Whatever he recalled, a distinct displeasure settled on his face.

"Did I sleep with you?"