try begging
Robert Fisher's visit to his wife in the hospital was just a day away. The deadline Nancy Wilkins had set for the release of my father was also just over a day away.
Leon had prepared plans for every possible scenario. The operation sites were expected to be near Winsford Asylum, where David Wilkins was located, and the northern border of Norden, where Braeton State Hospital and Nancy Wilkins had designated.
To narrow down the operation sites, David Wilkins was transferred to the northern asylum. They made the transfer quite noisy in case Nancy Wilkins was monitoring Winsford Asylum. That way, even if that rat was in the west, she would have no choice but to follow to the north.
Then the two moved to a hotel near Braeton State Hospital, where Fisher's visit was certain to take place.
Leon sat on a rug in front of the bathtub, leaning against the bathtub wall. His gaze did not leave Grace, who was standing in the shower, taking a hot shower.
Was she not closing the shower curtain out of habit from the torture chamber? Because of that, the bathroom quickly became humid. His shirt was damp, but Leon didn't take it off. He had been dealing with this kind of dampness all week. The anxiety that had plagued them both in the annex had clung to his skin and followed him all this way.
He wanted a drink, but he gave up the idea because an unexpected situation might arise that required a clear mind.
The sound of the water stopped. Leon got up and approached Grace. He handed her a towel and scanned her body for bruises and wounds, meeting her eyes. He grinned, pretending to enjoy the view, but Grace rolled her eyes. If you're going to look, then cover it.
However, Grace only wrapped the towel around her head before wrapping it around her body. It seemed like an unintentional action, and it was somewhat irritating.
As Grace stood in front of the sink, Leon stepped back. She unwrapped the towel from her head and began to dry her wet hair. Her hair was a dark brown, not a bright gold.
Over the past few days, Grace had been repeating the cycle of holding on and then breaking down. Leon had watched countless times as she slumped over like a corpse and then suddenly stood up, burning with the will to live.
Yesterday, she suddenly asked me to buy hair dye because she said her hair, which was dark at the roots and light at the ends, was a mess. Leon had his maid bring over a color that matched Grace's natural hair.
"Ellie will be disappointed," Grace muttered as she dried her hair.
"Not at all," Leon murmured, gathering a handful of her dark brown hair, which was now even darker from the water, and pressing it to his lips. "You look good in anything, but I like you best when you're not all dressed up."
Grace frowned at the man in the mirror.
"You're most bearable when you're being a haughty, sarcastic jerk."
"Are you shy, my dear?"
The man chuckled and whispered in her ear, causing Grace to flinch and throw the wet towel at his face.
"You have a rather violent way of showing shyness."
The man tossed the towel into a basket and opened a pouch on the shelf above the sink. Inside were ointments and bandages.
He examined Grace's pinky finger, applied ointment where the nail should be, and wrapped it thickly in gauze. This was just the beginning of the doctor's game he played twice a day.
The man sighed softly, holding up the ointment jar as he stared at Grace's reflection in the mirror.
"Ellie will be surprised."
Although the redness had faded significantly in a few days, the bruise had turned a nasty shade of purple and yellow. It was just as unsightly in its own way.
"Can you say I'm pretty even looking at a face like this?"
"Yeah, you're so pretty that I'm incredibly grateful to that rat bastard who made you look like this. I should make him look just as pretty."
"I think I've already done my part. His face will probably be just as ugly as mine."
"I'm sure it will be."
He raised Grace's right hand, where the skin on her knuckles was completely peeled and now covered with thin scabs, and shook it before putting it down.
"Don't think you'll take away my chance to enjoy that pleasure. I've prepared new tools. For dismembering the joints..."
The man recited the cruel words that a butcher might utter, in a refined tone. All the while, his delicate face maintained a savage smile.
"...so we absolutely must capture him alive."
Hearing this cruel plan, I frowned. At that moment, the fingers that had been gently dabbing ointment on the bruise under my eye stopped.
"Does it hurt?"
"...No."
Actually, it does. Not my body, but my heart.
I wished this bloody cycle of revenge would end. The thought that he would be trapped in this cycle forever if I didn't save him suddenly made me feel a pang of sadness. However, a part of Grace found herself thinking, "Just one more time." It was ridiculous that people trapped in a cycle were trying to save each other. The man moved his fingers again. He cupped Grace's chin with one hand and gently tilted her head from side to side as he applied ointment to her wounds. She wanted to laugh. Perhaps it was a habit from his life as a soldier and noble, but even his gentle actions had an overbearing quality.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
"The price for creating a secret I don't know about will be severe."
A hot breath brushed against her ear with a ticklish whisper. The man looked down at Grace, then rolled his eyes and met her gaze in the mirror again. In that moment, she became curious about the price of creating a secret.
"Open up."
"...What?"
With the hand that was holding her chin, he extended only his index finger and tapped Grace's parched lips.
"Ah..."
He slightly parted my lips and ran his sticky fingertip across my lower lip, rolling it around. The torn part had scabbed over and seemed to need no treatment.
"What were you trying to open?"
Though the bruise had long since lost its redness, Grace's face in the mirror was flushed a deep red. As if teasing her on purpose, the man bit his lip and tried to hide a smile. It was infuriating.
Is he doing this on purpose?
The stiff shirt rubbed against Grace's raw, damp skin. Each time it happened, a tingling sensation ran through her, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. She kept having thoughts she shouldn't be having.
"Sit."
Leon had run out of places to apply ointment on his face, so he sat Grace on the edge of the bathtub and took a seat on the rug in front of the tub. As he applied ointment to her shins, his gaze habitually drifted towards her legs, shaded by the towel.
Grace told him everything that had happened, including how she had killed the rat who had tried to rape her, as he had demanded.
"Why did you kill him, darling?"
He felt a sense of disappointment. All the revenge he could take was desecrating a corpse that was already dead. There was no particular thrill or pleasure to be found in it.
"What are you looking at?"
Feeling his gaze, Grace crossed her legs self-consciously and scolded him.
"Don't worry. I'm scared of putting my head between your thighs now."
I heard a chuckle from above me.
"Or rather, since nothing's happened until now, there's no need to be scared, is there?"
You've never actually strangled me with your legs, even though you always told me not to. Why were you so lenient with me, when you're ruthless with everyone else? Grace frowned as he looked at her with a meaningful gaze and then smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"No."
Without even voicing the question, she didn't realize that understanding it was already a naked revelation of her inner thoughts.
"No, it's not," he replied. But was that really true, he wondered?
rubbed the ointment into the wound on his knee and then pressed his lips next to it. His lips slowly traced up the skin until they stopped where her legs met. Grace had barely managed to close her legs, but the gentlemanly Leon opened them for her, out of respect for her ladylike modesty. With one tug...
Grace's legs, which she had barely managed to close, were opened by Leon, a gentleman who considered her ladylike modesty. He thrust his neck between her thighs as if daring her, but her legs didn't close again.
Leon kissed the inside of her thigh and whispered, "I love you too, darling."
'I love you too.' So you love me.
moment he confessed his love and revealed Grace's feelings, she put both legs on his shoulders as if she was going to strangle him. However, no matter what he did between her legs, the thighs that wrapped around Leon's neck did not gain strength.
He swept his hands up her thighs and parted the towel. Once her pussy was exposed, he grabbed her legs, one at a time, and stimulated the inside of her knee with his thumb. Her thighs began to visibly quiver.
His head stopped moving in the middle of her thighs. Leon pressed his lips to the same spot and watched silently as her pussy slowly became wet.
The pink flesh was turning red. The pink bumps that resembled pearly whites were also swelling with blood. He kissed the inside of her thigh and blew out a breath, causing the bump to flinch.
"Haah...."
A long sigh came from overhead.
"This is all because you're too good."
Leon tried to run away again with the convenient excuse that she couldn't kill him no matter what he did because she loved his body, not him. It was when he tried to push away her legs that were on his shoulders after taking his lips off.
Grace grabbed his tie that was hanging on her thigh and pulled it like a leash. Leon was helplessly dragged between her legs and buried his lips in hers.
Yes, I'm in no position to deny you.
The sucking and licking of flesh continued for a while, joined by the sound of fingers probing into her wetness.
Grace's moans grew louder as the obscene noises intensified.
Her fingers dug through his light golden hair, gripping the back of his head tightly, and her heels scratched Leon's back, crumpling his stiff shirt.
"Good?"
"Yeah, yeah..."
"How about here?"
"Ah!"
"Yeah, I know."
"Haa!"
Leon quickly wrapped Grace around him as she fell backwards, swept by the waves of climax. The towel that had been stubbornly wrapped around her body fell off in the wind.
The strange texture of the shirt against her naked body always made Grace feel ashamed. But today, she felt a strange sense of relief from that familiar humiliation.
I wanted to experience the feeling of being stripped naked and dismembered alive once again.
Grace gasped in the man's arms and asked.
"Is it there?"
The man smiled as if he had been waiting for those words, and pulled a small box out of his back pocket. Even though he felt guilty about everything, a part of his mind was thinking about sex.
"You're a lost cause."
"If I were the only screw-up, I wouldn't need this." Grace let out a sigh that sounded more like a laugh.
The world seemed to turn upside down as the soft pile of the rug enveloped her back. Soon, the ceiling of the unfamiliar hotel bathroom began to sway.
"Ah, ah, harder, ugh!"
How could a couple whose child had been kidnapped and whose fate was unknown be so consumed by lust, behaving like rabid animals? She knew it was crazy. That Saturday, waiting for Sunday, they abandoned their humanity. They had to drag out the excruciatingly slow passage of time in this way.
"Haak!"
"Ugh..."
As the moment approached when their child's fate, and their own, would be decided, they desperately intertwined their bodies, trying to replace the mental tension that was suffocating them with physical tension.
"Haah..." Leon ran his fingers through his hair, which had slid down his forehead, and looked up.
As soon as he saw the woman sprawled on the rug, her face vacant, his vision blurred. The depths of her flesh, which had been swept up in ecstasy, squeezed his body that was deeply buried within her, as if to crush it.
"Haah, one more time, you want to?"
Reading the desire rising in his eyes again, the woman asked.
"Enough?"
"...Go to bed."
One more time. Grace repeated the words countless times.
Harder. Rougher and rougher.
The more time he spent sedating her, the more radical her demands became. He knew better than anyone that the more she relied on drugs to forget her pain, the more she needed to forget. And that she would eventually cross the line.
"Tie me up. Treat me like a dog, if you will."
When he repeatedly ignored her demands that reminded her of their sex in the torture chamber, Grace eventually crossed the line.
"Do it. Do whatever you want. I wouldn't have put up with it. You like this."She asked him to strangle her. It had come to this, Leon had to admit.
I thought it was comfort, a way to forget our pain together, but it was self-pity, a way to forget my pain by giving it to him.
This woman sees him as a torturer, not a companion. For Grace Riddle, Leon Winston was the greatest instrument of torture.
"Please...."
The moment she begged him to torture her, even wrapping his hands around her neck, he lost control.
"I told you I wouldn't do that anymore!"
He pushed away the woman who was grabbing him. As he stood up to escape this painful situation, he collapsed.
"Do you know?" he asked, closing his eyes and letting out a laugh that sounded like a sob. "Now that I think about it, I was better off when I was treated like a male prostitute."
Grace finally snapped out of it.
"Leon."
She crawled towards him and helped him up. Wrapping her arms around the man, who was larger than her, she stroked him absentmindedly, reflecting on how her actions must have made him feel.
"I didn't mean it like that..."
"It's okay. Why do you have to explain? It's my fault."
It was all his fault that he was being treated like a torture technician by the woman he loved.
Leon, I didn't mean to use you... Well, I did mean to use you, but... that doesn't mean I resent you..."
As Grace stammered in confusion, Leon opened his eyes. He stared blankly at her sea-green eyes before bursting into a foolish laugh, realizing something.
"I'm ruined."
"No, wait..."
The man suddenly reached out and grabbed the back of Grace's neck, just as she had forced him to do a moment ago. However, instead of choking her, he pulled her towards him and pressed his lips against hers. His lips, which had entered her mouth, parting her flesh to avoid tearing her lower lip again, were gentle despite his rough movements. The man laid Grace back on the bed and this time, overlapping his body with hers, whispered in her ear, "It's okay. Even if we're ruined, it'll be okay."
Leon hated all dirty things in the world. Among them, what he hated most was eating on the bed. But fate is a cruel thing, and it enjoys giving exceptions to those who like to use the word "all".