1. The Snake in the Garden
"Nngh, hah... Pl-please, stop..."
A sound that could have been a moan or a sob echoed through the spacious bedroom. A nak€d woman and a man in soiled clothes were tangled together in an explicit embrace. Ayla's black hair rippled across the white sheets. Luke, who had been pressing kisses to her full br€asts while straddling her, lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered lowly.
"You promised, my lady."
His fevered tongue traced across Ayla's cheek.
"Th-this isn't what I meant! Ah, ah!"
Before she could finish, Luke twisted her nippl€ hard. Ayla swallowed a scream, her back arching. Her core was melting, her hips aching. Her tear-brimmed eyes had long since reddened from the strain. Luke was exploring her body slowly, as if savoring every inch.
"You're wilder than I imagined, my lady."
"St-stop...!"
His fingers, which had been tormenting her nippl€s, plunged into her core in one swift motion. Ayla gasped, her mouth wide open, staring up at him. Her thighs, spread wide by his hands, trembled faintly. He curled his lips into a smirk.
"So wet."
With each plunge of his long fingers, a squelching sound echoed, and fluid seeped out. Ayla's hands, clutching the bedsheet, trembled uncontrollably. A pleasure that seemed to melt her whole body was rising from below her navel. Her slender hips twitched, and an unstoppable moan escaped her lips.
"Ngh, hah... hnngh, Lu-Luke!"
"Call my name again, won't you?"
Luke lowered his head, parting her folds with his middle finger. Ayla gasped and clamped both hands over her mouth. Luke's tongue began to lap at her ¢lit as if tasting it. Saliva squelched as it moistened her sensitive bud, while his fingers continued to plunge in and out of her tender hole.
"Lu... ke... stop..."
Ayla sobbed. She could feel how wet she was without even looking. The sensation was terrifyingly vivid, like being pierced through by a spear. Her ¢lit had swollen red. Luke sucked relentlessly at that spot before finally withdrawing his fingers.
"Nnngh..."
Ayla shuddered at the sudden emptiness. The tears that had welled in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Luke licked his slick fingers, coated with saliva and her fluids, as he looked down at her. His gaze was like that of someone examining a worthless object.
"Until a few days ago, you were above me, my lady. So far above that I couldn't even dare to look up."
Luke's voice was cold. Ayla shook her head, gasping. Luke curled his lips in a mocking smirk and slowly began to undress.
"Isn't that right? That can't be. I'm just a lowly commoner gardener—unlike you, a noble lady."
"That's not—"
"Shh. Quiet."
Luke's lips devoured Ayla's reddened mouth in an instant. Her lips parted naturally, their tongues intertwining. Thick saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth. Luke had already positioned himself between her legs. Just as Ayla's breath hitched, his lips pulled away.
"W-wait!"
Only then could she see his ere¢tion clearly. Large and hard, it rose threateningly. Ayla felt a surge of fear. Desperate to escape, she began to crawl backward toward the headboard.
"It's too late."
"......!"
Luke grabbed her ankle with his large hand, pulling her toward him, and thrust into her in one motion. Ayla cried out, face down on the bed. Her captive ankle ached, and the unfamiliar intrusion burned unbearably.
White, viscous fluid soaked her folds and clung to her dark pubic hair. Luke gripped her soft, pale buttocks tightly. The feel of her skin under his fingers excited him further. It was the satisfaction of having his way with a noble widow, burying his co¢k inside her.
"Ngh, hah, hnngh! Ah!"
Thrust, thrust. Luke, standing behind Ayla, pounded into her without pause. Each time he withdrew, fluid dripped down. He lowered his upper body, pressing against her completely, his solid arm wrapping around her slender neck.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this, Ayla."
"Hah, nngh... aah!"
Luke's hips moved faster and faster. He drank in the sight of Ayla moaning beneath him. Her jet-black hair, her delicate waist that seemed like it might break if squeezed too hard, her full breasts, her pale skin. A body he had wanted from the very first moment he saw her.
"Ngh, hah, aah..."
His warm, damp breath tickled her cheek. Luke bared his teeth like a beast against her shoulder, leaving his mark. As if claiming his possession. Ayla, trapped in an unfamiliar excitement, could only let out stifled cries.
---
Ayla Soyer became a countess at a young age. At the time of her marriage, she was twenty years younger than the Count. She was born as the daughter of a poor baronial family and was married off like a commodity. Many whispered about how brutal her first night would be.
Count Soyer was a man who, despite his title, was unkempt and ugly, taking pride in his bloated belly. Fortunately, he hadn't lost all his hair yet, but given his resemblance to his father, he was clearly headed for baldness.
However, the first night was nothing like the rumors. The Count would grunt and groan with his limp member every night, only to tire himself out and fall asleep snoring. After a month, even that ceased. The Count had lost all interest in his young, beautiful wife.
He devoted himself to gambling and drinking, as always, leaving Ayla alone in the vast, opulent manor. Her only solace was walking through the well-tended garden. Rain was pouring down outside, the garden just beginning to show signs of spring.
Spring already.
It had been half a year since her marriage. She had somehow survived another long, tedious winter. Raindrops splashed in through the window she had opened wide to breathe in the fresh air. Ayla reached out to catch the rain. The cool, clean sensation felt as if it were washing over her whole body. A faint smile touched her dry lips.
She stared at the rain for a long time, only lowering her gaze when her cheeks grew cold. Then she saw. Someone was standing in the garden. At first, she thought she had imagined it, then she recognized the gardener and breathed a sigh of relief.
He's working even in the rain.
The gardener was looking her way. Even from a distance, she felt her eyes meet his. It was a gaze that seemed to crawl over her body, persistent and unsettling. Her neck prickled. She quickly closed the window and drew the curtains.
"My lady, are you there?"
The Count had returned. She had expected him back much later, given the rain. At the sound of his voice, she hurried to the door and opened it.
"My Lord?"
"Look here. I've brought you a gift, my lovely wife Ayla!"
A wave of alcohol washed over her. Ayla wrinkled her nose in reflex. The gift the Count held out was a crude, misshapen object carved from thick wood. He chuckled as he stepped into her room.
"Let's have some fun with this tonight, my lady."
The Count grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the bed. Ayla was thrown onto the soft mattress. Before she could protest, the Count pressed his mouth to hers. It was a rough, clumsy kiss, nothing but suction. Gasping for air, Ayla struggled to push him away.
"St-stop this!"
"It's been so long. Why are you acting like this?"
"W-wait!"
The Count pinned her flailing hands and raised the wooden implement. His grin revealed rotten teeth. Ayla didn't know what he intended, and she was terrified.
"Don't be scared, alright? Just stay still."
The Count made a half-hearted attempt to soothe her as he pulled off her undergarments in one swift motion. Ayla covered her mouth with both hands. Without any foreplay, the Count began to push the wooden rod into her. The cold, hard wood forced its way into her, bringing an unbearable pain.
"Stop, please stop... I beg you... it hurts...!"
Tears spilled from her eyes. But the Count showed no sign of stopping. Crushed by his weight, Ayla gasped and struggled. It felt as if she was being torn apart. The Count panted, his damp, foul breath licking at her face.
"Feels good, right? You like it, don't you?"
When the tip of the rod pushed all the way inside her, she grabbed the nearest object and struck the Count. Not his back, she thought, but his head. Trembling violently, she scrambled off the bed. The Count lay face-down on the floor without a sound.
Tears streamed down her face. She reached out a trembling hand to touch him. There was still warmth, but no response.
"H-hic... Is he... dead? My Lord?"
She called out to him again and again, unable to believe the situation. He didn't wake.
I... killed someone. For real.
After crying by his side for a long time, Ayla lost consciousness herself.
When she opened her eyes again, it was dark. Startled, she sat up. Her whole body ached from lying on the hard floor. The room was deathly silent. The Count was gone.
"My lady."
An unfamiliar voice. Ayla flinched and wrapped herself in the bedsheet. A man with sharp, beast-like eyes stood right before her. It was none other than the gardener from the estate. She couldn't understand why he was here.
"Why are you here? The Count is..."
"My lady, what if I kept what I saw a secret? But I have a request."
The gardener smiled as he stepped closer.
"The Count has been quietly buried by my hands, so don't worry. No one will care about that foul-smelling piece of trash. As long as I keep my mouth shut, you'll be fine, my lady."
"D-dead?"
"Did you think I buried him alive?"
Only then did she realize he had disposed of the body. She was in a state of complete panic. Her face went pale. He was the only one who knew of the Count's death besides her.
"What... do you want?"
"First, I'd like you to call me by my name: 'Luke.'"
Luke took another step closer.
"The other thing..."
He reached out and gripped Ayla's chin. Her breath caught. He looked directly into her eyes and answered. His snake-like yellow eyes were already alight with excitement, as if he had already claimed her. His long, narrow eyes curved lewdly.
"The Countess."
Luke stood closer still. His large, imposing frame made her flinch and step back. This was the first time she had seen him so close. Luke approached leisurely, licking his lips. The sight of his red tongue sliding over his lips was intensely sensual.
"My lady, why are you running? Afraid I'll devour you?"
"Th-that's not..."
Ayla's heel hit the bed. She realized there was nowhere left to flee. Her body trembled, against her will. She tried to move back further and nearly tripped over the bed. Luke's arm shot out, pulling her close.
"Be careful not to get hurt, my lady. This body is mine to hold from now on."
He smelled of fresh air and dry grass. Her face pressed against his firm, broad chest, and Ayla squeezed her eyes shut. His long fingers were already tracing her back like a serpent.
---
Rumors spread quickly that the reckless Count Soyer had suddenly disappeared. Along with them came the ridiculous gossip that his young countess had devoured him. Fortunately, most believed he would return soon. No one naturally assumed he was dead.
Even past noon, Ayla remained curled up in bed. Everything she had gone through in just one day felt surreal. Unlike yesterday's rain, today warm spring sunlight filled the room.
"My lady, please eat something."
A maid's anxious voice came from outside the closed door. But Ayla had no strength to answer. Her core, abused by Luke, was swollen and painful. Even after washing and changing clothes as soon as he left, his scent still clung to her.
The sensation of his fingers parting her, the weight of his large, hard member—it all still lingered inside her. Her fingertips, which had clung to him throughout, were still numb.
What will happen to me now?
She still couldn't believe the Count was dead. Was he really gone? Could a person die so easily? The same questions circled endlessly in her mind. She found it hard to accept the fact that she was a killer.
He said he buried him.
Where? What if someone found him? What if someone learned or suspected the truth? Could she trust the gardener? Ayla thought and thought again.
Why did you do it, my Lord?
No matter how worthless a husband he was, he had made her a countess. She had been truly grateful that he left her alone after their marriage. If only he hadn't acted so recklessly last night...
He wouldn't have died.
Ayla murmured to herself, then wrapped her arms around her body, shuddering. Her mind was starting to feel strange.
"My lady, please eat just a little. Please?"
The maid seemed to still be outside. Ayla gnawed at her lips. She wanted to scream at her to leave her alone. Then another voice cut in.
"I'll try to persuade the lady."
"What do you think you can do to persuade her?"
"My lady, it's the gardener. I've brought the item you requested."
Knock, knock. The sound of knocking struck her heart. It was Luke Blaine. Ayla sat up stiffly, her face rigid. She had requested nothing. Luke was shamelessly lying. Yet she couldn't tell him not to come in. She was afraid he would reveal the truth.
"...Come in."
She ultimately allowed him entry. Through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the maid's bewildered face. She just hoped the girl wouldn't spread rumors. The door quickly closed. Ayla pulled the blanket up to her neck, trying to hide her neck, which was covered in his marks.
"Not eating? For such a small body, you need to eat well to take me."
Luke said teasingly as he sat naturally on Ayla's bed. A tray of thin soup sat on his lap. He lifted the spoon to Ayla's lips, as if caring for an invalid.
"Open your mouth, my lady."
"I... don't want to eat."
Ayla clamped her mouth shut and turned her head away. Luke's other hand gripped her chin firmly as he whispered.
"Then should I bury my co¢k in that pretty mouth instead?"
"What are you—!"
As Ayla opened her mouth, pale with shock, the spoon slipped inside. Warm soup spread over her tongue and heated her palate. Luke smiled faintly and wiped the soup that dripped from the corner of her mouth.
"Swallow."
Ayla submitted to his commanding gaze and swallowed the soup. Luke repeated the process until her bowl was empty. She had to suppress the urge to gag.
"Our dear lady sure is hard to feed."
Luke set the tray on the table and returned. His shadow fell over Ayla's pale body like nightfall.
"Now it's time to do what needs to be done, my lady."
Luke murmured softly, his hand reaching to grip her breast. Ayla was so startled by the sudden touch that she could only gasp, her mouth opening and closing. Luke didn't stop, teasing her nippl€ through the thin dress. Her nippl€s, still sore from last night, stiffened almost immediately.
"Good girl."
Luke chuckled mockingly as his hand slipped under her dress to stroke her slender waist.
"Nnngh... d-don't."
"Surely you didn't think it would be over after just once? When you've let me in on such a big secret? How selfish of you."
Luke chuckled softly, licking her ear. His warm tongue moistened her small ear.
"Ngh, n-no... stop..."
The wet sounds near her ear aroused her. Her sensitive ear reddened quickly, and she found herself clutching Luke's collar without realizing it. Luke naturally laid her down and positioned himself between her legs. His snow-white hair fell forward.
Luke hiked up Ayla's dress and caressed her thighs, covered in red marks. Her soft skin clung to his palm. He buried his face in her chest and licked with his tongue sharp and pointed.
"Nnngh, hah... Lu-Luke..."
Ayla gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. Her core was already growing wet. Heat spread through her as if fire had been lit, and her lips, trying to suppress her moans, kept opening. After a long moment of wandering near her thighs and folds, Luke's fingers slowly widened her entrance.
"Ah, ahh, hnngh!"
Ayla's hips trembled. Her fluids were already flowing. An unmistakable arousal, one she didn't want to admit, was completely taking over her body. Luke struck her with a loud slap.
"Why are you so wet? Hmm?"
"Ah!"
Ayla flinched, her back arching. Her sensitive core reddened instantly, and tears welled in her eyes.
"It hurts."
"It hurts?"
Luke chuckled lowly and licked the spot he had just slapped. He pinched her ¢lit with his fingers, making her writhe.
"Ngh, hah, hnngh!"
Luke spread her thighs wide and licked her ¢lit and entrance roughly. After teasing the surrounding area, he extended his tongue and pushed it through her slightly parted opening. Ayla bit her lips and moaned.
"Ahhn, ah!"
His burning tongue pierced her narrow opening, probing her warm interior. Her fingers, gripping the bedsheet, turned white. The pleasure, overwhelming her to the tips of her hair, tormented her.
"Ah, ahh! Hnngh!"
With a sensation of something bursting, her wildly shaking hips dropped sharply. At the same time, fluid gushed from her core. Luke's face was glistening with her juices. Without bothering to wipe it off, he immediately kissed her.
"Mmm..."
Luke reeked of Ayla. Instinctively turning her head to escape, Luke persistently pursued her lips. Ayla eventually opened her mouth, their tongues intertwining. Their tongues entwined lewdly, and Ayla gasped for breath.
"Hnngh, ahh, nngh..."
Her once-neat dress was half off, and her spread thighs trembled. Luke sucked and bit Ayla's tongue and palate before removing his trousers. Ayla looked at him through half-lidded eyes. Luke pulled her legs open again.
"Nnngh..."
"Let me fu¢k you."
Luke thrust into her in one motion. Ayla flailed her hands in the air, as if her belly had twisted.
"Ah!"
"So... tightly clenched even though you... were so... open."
Luke, gripping her restless hands with one hand, frowned and thrust his hips hard. His solid member moved in and out of Ayla swiftly.
"Ngh, ha, hnngh, ah...!"
With Ayla's moans, Luke's pace quickened. After pounding her while gripping her breasts, he let out a low groan. He slowly stirred his member inside her. Ayla sensed he had climaxed inside her. He withdrew, his seed dripping out.
"Ah..."
The strange sensation of the large, heavy thing leaving her made Ayla frown. Sweat on Luke's face dripped onto hers. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
"Hah... hah."
After the intense act, the heat that filled the room seemed to vanish instantly. Ayla quickly adjusted her clothes, as if she didn't want to remember herself lost in pleasure. Luke, still naked, sat on the edge of the bed, watching her silently.
Ayla combed through her tangled black hair with her fingers and tried to pull up her disheveled dress. But her trembling hands kept slipping. Luke reached out and pulled her dress down.
"Why... why..."
"I told you. Once isn't enough."
Luke grinned lasciviously, wetting his lips with his red tongue.
***
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