Lady Class - Chapter 12 (M)

As he strode closer, Rackley caught sight of Kahn’s face and turned his head away, lowering his gaze.

His flushed face, heated by fever, the subtle, restless rubbing of his legs, and beneath the fabric of his undergarments, his hardened nipples standing out in defiance.

Rackley’s gaze traced over his body as if licking him with his eyes.

“You… You can’t put it in.”

Her shy words, so out of sync with the situation, pushed away the last remnants of Kahn’s conscience.

She had already experienced his touch once. She had sworn that she would never be the one to want it again—yet here she was, wanting him once more.

She was no different from other women.

The first time could have been excused as a mistake, something that happened because she was deceived by another’s mischief. But now, she was choosing this second night of her own free will.

Could such a woman be called chaste and innocent?

If anything, she was more loathsome than the women who openly shed their clothes and approached him with eagerness.

Hiding behind the excuse of “I had no choice” while trying to preserve her own image—Kahn twisted his lips into a sneer at her cunning display.

“Is touching allowed, then?”

“I-I can’t take the lesson if you don’t touch me…”

Her innocent reply reminded Kahn of the elegant child she had once been. But that child was long gone, lost to corruption.

He felt the twisted nature within him stir, growing stronger.

“That’s right.”

“Hngh!”

Ignoring her reputation as a paragon of virtue in high society, he treated her without a shred of reverence. His hand slipped beneath the muslin dress, trailing up from her thigh, grazing over her soft, delicate skin.

As his fingertips brushed against her most intimate place, her delicate hand flinched, grasping his arm in surprise. Yet, she did not push him away. There was no will to resist.

Women were always like this. They said no, but in the end, they yielded, hiding their true desires behind false protests.

‘I’ll make her reveal that depraved nature.’

A smirk played at the corner of Kahn’s lips.

“Well then, my lady… How do you want me to please you?”

His deep, husky voice wrapped around Rackley like a spell, leaving her mind hazy and unfocused.

She parted her lips slightly, barely managing to whisper,

“…How?”

“A kiss, perhaps?”

‘A kiss? But I’ve kissed him plenty of times before.’

They had said that if she was too clumsy, even her future husband would grow bored of her too soon. So this should be fine.

Rackley wetted her lips, searching for an excuse.

Her breath came in shallow pants as she hesitated, her tightly bound chest growing unbearably constricted.

It was just a kiss.

He wasn’t planning to take her immediately—just their lips touching.

Nibbling her lips nervously, she gave a small nod.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. “As you wish, I won’t put it in.”

At least he listens to reason.

The moment that thought crossed Rackley’s mind, his assault began.

The man who had been smirking so wickedly vanished from her sight—only for his lips to land somewhere utterly unthinkable.

A rounded mound, a clitoris like a beacon at the beginning of a cleft, and labia in the gaping valley below. A hot breath touched a place that was out of reach except when she washed and defecated. She didn’t have time to wince before she was sucked into the man’s mouth.

Kahn opened his mouth and sucked hard on the thin material of her underwear.

“Ah! K-Kahn!”

She hastily grabbed at his hair, trying to push him away. But his thick, curling black locks tangled around her fingers as if devouring her touch.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer. Like a serpent unhinging its jaws, he devoured her with an insatiable, relentless hunger.

Rackley barely managed to brace herself with her hands behind her, struggling to keep from collapsing.

‘My God!’

She swallowed, unable to make a sound. A blunt tongue licked at her clitoris and labia, digging into her cleft. It was hot. Hot breath touched her secret place.

“Ah, no….”

The sensitive place was stimulated by the man with a squelching sound, spreading her flesh apart. He rubbed against her vaginal opening, coveted her insides.

The spread legs twitched uncontrollably. Rackley shook her head.

“Ah, w-wait a moment. Not this… Hnn… I only agreed to a kiss, but this… ah, no… hngh…”

“We are kissing,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing against her from below. “Just where I want to.”

He kissed the split flesh, sliding his tongue in and sucking on it. The man’s hands tugged at the straps of her underwear, and it slid down Rackley’s legs.

Kahn slipped his hand behind one of Rackley’s crotches. With only one of Rackley’s legs in his arms, he reverently opened his mouth to the uncovered secret spot as if he were asking a god for holy water.

“Ah!”

Rackley arched her back at the sensation.

The flesh pressed against her closed vaginal opening, spreading it open. The flesh slid in smoothly, softly, without resistance, thanks to the moisture of her juices.

It was like a living snake.

Rackley clutched at the man’s hair, wet with the sensation that shook her entire world.

Her back arched, and she cried out.

She pushed her hips up to pull him beneath her, to force him deeper into her mouth, but there was no reason left in her to think about it.

“A-ah! Hiiik… Aaahng!”

Before she knew it, Rackley was laid out atop the table. The hem of her dress was pushed up past her navel, leaving her lower half completely at his mercy. All she could do was moan.

The ecstasy he bestowed upon her was different from the night before.

Last night, she had been helplessly swept away by the crashing waves. But now—now, it was as if she were a swan gliding across a tranquil lake. Serene on the surface, yet beneath the water, she moved frantically, caught in the currents of his touch.

Her cunt was draped over his shoulder, and Kahn probed it with his tongue as if it were the only thing he was given. The slippery, hard flesh, coated with saliva, sizzled against her delicate flesh, and he licked at her clit. Cold, cold, cold, he made loud wet noises, and he was promiscuous.

Rackley clenched the fabric of her dress as if trying to tear it apart.

Tears, born of raw sensation, slipped from the corners of her eyes. Gasping for breath, she glanced down at the scorching heat unfurling in her lower half—Kahn’s head was moving between her legs.

Each subtle movement of his sent a fresh burst of pleasure surging through her. Her toes curled, her back arched. With trembling fingers, she wove her hands into his hair, a broken, tear-laced moan escaping her lips.

“S-stop… hnn… please, no more…”

He moved, as if to rebuke her lie, his lips dropping from sucking on her pea-sized clit like he was sucking on a nipple.

“Ah… haaang!”

“Empty words,” he murmured. “If you truly hated it, you wouldn’t be this wet.”

“Hnn… ahh—hngh!”

“A man’s arousal is recognised by his erect penis, and a woman’s arousal is recognised by her juices here.”

Kahn parted the petals he had just been kissing, spreading them with his fingers, now slick with her essence. Lifting his hand, he made sure she could see it—the clear, viscous liquid clinging to his thick joints like raw egg whites.

Even though he didn’t bring his fingers close to her face, she swore she could smell it. The air between them grew heavy, thick with the unmistakable scent of desire.

“Look, my lady. You’re enjoying this too.”

“A-ah… ahhh…”

“Be honest with yourself. Do you truly hate it?”

“I… I… hnn…”

His hand moved, urging Rackley’s reply, and his lips moved away from her pussy, his wet fingers hovering around the petals and tickling them instead.

“You need to know what you like and don’t like—and be able to ask for it. That’s the only way you’ll make your husband move the way you want.”

“Now… where do you want me to touch you?”

Rackley’s lips parted hesitantly.

“…There…”

“You need to get the name right. Hole? Clit?”

His hand flicked back and forth between her vagina and clitoris. He gestured promiscuously, urging her to tell him.

“Hmm, there…… clitoris…….”

“Ah, so, what do you want me to do?”

The husky voice rumbled through her body. At the resonance that reached deep inside her, Rachael spat out the desire she’d been holding back.

“Suck me there, ahhhh!”

Kahn pressed his lips against her and sucked fiercely.

A pure, unrestrained pleasure erupted from deep within her, freeing her from any other thought.

“Ah… hnn! Aaahng!”

In this moment, Rackley broke free from all the rules that had once bound her.

***

Rackley’s eyelids burned with heat. Her mind was hazy, unable to gather a single coherent thought. Kahn left her no room for anything but him.

He was too intense, too overwhelming.

His tongue flicked against her ear as he whispered,

“Tell me… What do you want?”

The question struck her like a bolt of lightning.

A surge of emotion swelled in her chest.

No one had ever asked her that before.

No one had ever cared what she wanted, what she liked, what she disliked, or what interested her.

No one had ever asked.

When she was fourteen, her mother—already suffering from depression—fell ill with pneumonia and left for a convalescence retreat.

When Rackley, still just a child, declared that she would manage the household in her mother’s place, Count Winner merely nodded.

“Fine. Do as you wish.”

There had been doubt in his eyes, but hidden beneath his stern expression, she caught a glimmer of satisfaction.

With the help of the butler, she learned everything—piece by piece. Surprisingly, she had a knack for organizing documents and managing finances. Bit by bit, she filled the void her mother had left, making no major mistakes.

For a young noblewoman to be running an estate instead of attending dances or engaging in high society was an extraordinary feat.

Yet, the ever-stingy Count Winner never once praised her.

If she happened to make a miscalculation, he wouldn’t reprimand her directly. Instead, he would summon the butler and scold him harshly—right in front of her.

He never raised his voice at her, but that made it all the more painful.

Rackley’s entire world revolved around the estate.

She focused all her energy on earning just a single approving glance from Count Winner.

Her mother—the only person who might have given her attention—was too weighed down by her own burdens. Even though Rackley had a family, she felt utterly alone in that vast estate.

She envied the noble girls who went on boat outings. When she heard stories of those who traveled to the South, she imagined what it must be like.

But she also knew she would never have such experiences.

Despite its grandeur, the family estate was barely wealthier than a middle-class gentleman’s household.

And with her responsibilities, she had no time for leisure.

Besides, Count Winner was not the kind of man who would ever grant her such a request.

She never resented that reality—because she was too busy chasing after her father’s approval. Desperate to be acknowledged.

But everything crumbled the moment Count Winner brought Rowinda Harkle and Edward Winner into their lives.