Chapter 13
Insomnia is not a contagious disease, yet Laticia hadn't slept properly for days. Her heart kept pounding strangely at random moments—a symptom that began the day Theodore disappeared.
No matter how thoroughly she searched the gardens, she never encountered anything resembling Theodore. Wandering endlessly along the pathways, she marveled at how easily they used to meet whenever she willed it before.
The ducal residence offered no better prospects. Its vast, labyrinthine halls—most areas off-limits—prevented Laticia from searching freely. Worse, the servants treated her as invisible, leaving no one to ask about Theodore's whereabouts. Except one person: Andrea Kalidnas.
"Master, I... I can't find Theodore."
"He often drinks with friends. Probably out carousing."
Despite mustering courage for the question, his breezy reply deflated her.
"Master..."
When his fingers hooked under her chin, Laticia complied obediently. Pleasing the Duke seemed the only option. She sucked gently on the tongue probing her mouth until he abruptly pulled back, eyes slitted.
"Unusually eager today. Any particular reason?"
"Just..."
Flushing under his scrutiny, she realized how transparent she must be. Hiding anything from him felt impossible. Instead of answering, she boldly looped her arms around his neck and kissed him first. Andrea didn't press further, merely capturing her lips to savor their sweetness.
"Mmm..."
With minimal foreplay, he hooked a knee over his shoulder and sheathed himself in one thrust. Despite her damp entrance, the inner walls remained tight.
"Ah—!"
Though whimpering, Laticia wrapped her free leg around his waist, pulling him deeper. This had become routine since Theodore vanished.
Andrea relished how her tender flesh yielded to his ruthless strokes. It never took long for her deepest recesses to soften—her body already molded to accept him, and him alone.
When he didn't slow his piston-like thrusts, Laticia's back arched beautifully. Her adorable attempts to match his rhythm ended when he gripped her hips, spreading them wider to lift her halfway off the bed. Suspended midair, she could only take what he gave.
"Ah! Master, too... too much—!"
Caught between pleasure and pain, Laticia thrashed. Her knitted brows, tear-reddened eyes, glazed pupils, parted lips gasping for air, flushed cheeks—even her distorted expressions held a certain charm.
"Ah! Hng!"
Purposefully hammering her deepest spot finally drew tears. Andrea licked one away from her burning cheek and demanded:
"Smile."
She couldn't conceal anything—not lies, not forced expressions. He'd asked before and only received resentful glares. But this time, he knew she'd comply. With Theodore's fate in his hands, she would.
As he withdrew slightly, strands of slick followed. Smearing it across her cheek, he repeated:
"Smile, Laticia. You're enjoying this, aren't you? Hmm?"
Bewildered, her lips twitched awkwardly. The absurd command made no sense until she met his unshakable blue gaze—steady even as her body rocked helplessly beneath him. When she didn't smile, he punished her with deeper, rougher thrusts.
"Ngh! Ah! Hah...!"
Between moans, Laticia strained to lift the corners of her mouth. Surprisingly, they obeyed readily.
"Hah! Master! Ah—!"
Her question—Like this?—was buried under his relentless pace. Yet she kept trying, her parted lips during moans occasionally resembling genuine laughter. Satisfied, Andrea grinned back.
Something inexplicable happened. Though forcing the expression to placate him, when he smiled back, her chest fluttered as if genuinely happy. Her pounding heartbeat reverberated to her very core. Feeling that bittersweet tremor, Laticia twisted her hips.
"Ah! Yes! Master—!"
Her inner thighs quivered violently. Deep inside, her walls clenched like a fist around him, dragging Andrea over the edge with her climax. With a groan, he spilled into her, savoring each pulsating contraction milking him dry.
"Should've bitten down properly, hmm?"
Teasing her as her unusually long climax ebbed, Andrea gave a few shallow thrusts. Overwhelmed by aftershocks, Laticia sobbed pitifully. Something in her mind must've broken—nothing else explained this hollow ache when he withdrew.
It felt good. Not just the pleasure, but... him. Being held by him, breathing together, reaching climax simultaneously—it overwhelmed her.
Why?
This shouldn't be happening. At some point, she'd forgotten Theodore entirely. Gnawing her lip in self-loathing, she took comfort that the Duke seemed indifferent to her post-coital moodiness—it was routine by now.
Just temporary.
She rationalized: being ordered to smile mid-intercourse was bizarre. Of course her mind would short-circuit when forced to perform under such dizzying pleasure.
Now she realized—it wasn't her mind but her heart malfunctioning. Clutching her still-pounding chest, she curled up tightly, terrified he might discern her feelings.
Desperately, she forced Theodore's image forward. Theodore, Theodore. Chanting his name like a mantra, she clung to worry about him. Gradually, her tremors subsided. With calm came clarity. She focused on the one thing that truly mattered—the only thing that ever had.
"Master, I have a request."
"Speak."
His unsurprised tone suggested he'd anticipated this.
"I want to visit Theodore's studio."
"By all means."
Again, his breezy agreement deflated her.
"Can I... go now?"
"Certainly."
He even escorted her personally. Upon arriving, Laticia felt something peculiar.
Gone.
The fireplace still radiated warmth; brushes and paints lay scattered as if recently used. Yet no human presence lingered—as if evaporated.
"Huh? This..."
A torn canvas caught her eye. The sketch depicted her lying beneath the Duke, now ripped in half. Had Theodore fled in anguish? Or was he truly out drinking as Andrea claimed? None of the possibilities felt convincing.
In the end, Laticia left more unsettled than before.
Later...
She memorized the route, determined to return alone someday.
***
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