Lady Class - Chapter 7

It was last spring.

Although she couldn’t afford to hire one every month, every spring, Rackley would call in a gardener. The elderly gardener who came each year always brought along his young grandson, saying he was teaching him the trade.

Gardening required quite a bit of effort. They had to clear out last year’s undergrowth, spread fertilizer, prune the branches, and shape the plants.

While they worked, the maid, Elene, and Mrs. Joelle couldn’t tear themselves away from the window.

“Oh my, oh my. Just look at those arms. What are we going to do?”

Mrs. Joelle wasn’t one to make a fuss, but Elene couldn’t stop marveling aloud.

The young grandson was working with only a vest on.

His broad shoulders and solid arm muscles were striking. As he swung his hoe and uprooted the shrubs, the veins on his forearms bulged, his muscles flexing with every movement.

Even Rackley, who had intended to scold Elene, found her gaze caught on his arms for a moment.

Sun-kissed, tanned brown arms, thick with muscle, veins standing out as sweat glistened over them.

Why did her eyes keep drifting to those arms?

Why couldn’t she look away?

Why did watching them leave her feeling so parched?

The sight of Kahn’s trousers falling open, revealing a bulging penis, brought Rackley back to the moment.

“Ah.”

Her face burned as she hastily turned her head away.

Her eyes felt hot.

A stranger’s nakedness. A man’s—one she had never seen before.

She couldn’t bring herself to look directly.

Above her, she heard Kahn let out a quiet laugh.

Like offering candy to a starving traveler, her mouth watered instinctively. Her body sent its own signals.

Even as she was being hunted, completely at his mercy, Rackley wanted to remain composed—even in front of this arrogant tyrant.

After all, he was just an employee. The control had to be hers.

As she tried to raise her upper body, the bulging penis lightly hit her vagina.

“Gasp!”

“Cross your legs.”

He raised his upper body and crossed Rackley’s naked legs. The overlapping calves draped over his shoulders, and he spread the inner thighs apart, letting the man’s hot penis enter.

It slid in smoothly, pressing against Rackley’s clit one last time. It was a bizarre sensation. The shaft pulsed, rubbing against the flesh of her delicate thighs.

The bulk was palpable, unlike the way it had rubbed against her pussy through her pants.

She caught only a fleeting glimpse, but it was big. Solid and enormous. It felt almost absurd, like a child playing with a clenched fist—so much so that it left her flustered and embarrassed.

“Mmph!”

“I told you, I won’t put it in. Let’s see how long you can hold out.”

According to what Rackley knew, it was always the males—the men—who sought release through penetration.

Yet he laughed, saying he would see how long she could endure.

He teased her, mocking that she would end up wanting him on her own.

Thud!

He began moving his hips, thrusting against her thigh.

Only then did Rackley truly understand—with her body—why he had said those words.

It was Rackley who regretted not putting it in. His cock slipped in and out between her narrow thighs, rubbing against her damp, juicy pussy and clit. The spreading flesh, the sliding of his thick shaft in and out of her, was like a union without the penetration.

The rubbing was enough to make her look forward to what his penis would do when it was inside her.

Thud, thud!

With each movement of his hips, his groin struck against Rackley’s backside. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm with his motions, her entire body swaying to his pace.

Kahn pinned her wrists to the sheets, holding her down as he thoroughly took her.

He hadn’t entered her—that was the only line he hadn’t crossed.

His hard penis pierced through the gap between her thighs and pushed hard as if it was going to reach deep inside. It hung on the outside of her thighs as if the glans would fall out, then scratched her vaginal opening and stimulated her clitoris all at once. The area being rubbed like a shovel gradually widened.

Tears flowed from the corners of Rackley’s eyes at the thrilling pleasure. The thrill was so intense that she squirmed.

“Ah, no… No, you can’t… You can’t put it in…”

“I won’t. Not unless you want it.”

His breath grew ragged. His brows furrowed, but the corners of his lips curled upward. His thrusts made his upper body rock, and each time, sweat from his skin dripped onto Rackley, dampening her.

His scent thickened in the air, filling her senses. Her own breathing turned heavy.

What stopped her from begging him to put it in wasn’t reason—it was the overwhelming sensation coursing through her. She could barely manage a breath between moans, let alone form words.

“Ah… hnn… ahh…”

Everything about this was new to her—every sensation, every feeling.

His movements quickened, heat building between her thighs. Instinctively, she tensed her legs, squeezing them together.

She could feel his penis pressed against the flesh of her thigh, its bumpy shape well defined.

“Rackley.”

A rough, growling voice called her name.

Had her name ever sounded this sexy before?

Rackley shuddered.

“Tighter, Rackley.”

Kahn murmured her name again, lowering his head to capture her lips.

Smack! His thrusts against her backside quickened.

Thud, thud, thump!

“Hnn… Haah… Squeeze harder.”

The rough sound of his breathing, the forceful impact shaking her body, the obscene slapping of flesh against her—everything intensified.

She was helpless against his movements, her body rocked in sync with his. Even the way her breasts bounced felt unbearably stimulating.

Then, Kahn tightened his grip on their interlocked hands. His back muscles tensed and swelled.

“Khht—”

“Ahhh!”

Splatter.

Hot liquid spurted onto her chest and body, the thick scent of release filling the air.

It was his climax.

“Ah… haa…”

Kahn’s broad back rose and fell with deep breaths as he gave a few shallow thrusts, shaking off the last remnants of his release.

Once his chest steadied, he lowered his lips to Rackley’s calf, pressing a lingering kiss there. His gaze, still heavy with heat, burned as he looked down at her.

A stream of white dripped down her inner thigh, pooling over the tightly sealed, flushed mound between her legs.

Rackley trembled, gasping for breath, unable to tear her eyes away from him.

Kahn swiped his fingers through the mess on her chest, rubbing it into her skin before bringing his now-slick fingers to her lips.

“Suck.” His voice was low, commanding. “Get used to it. This is the taste of the man you’ll be having from now on.”

Rackley instinctively licked her lips. The tip of her red tongue swept away the traces of his release—and Kahn didn’t miss a single moment of it.

His gaze darkened, the heat in his eyes flaring even hotter.

His fingers pried apart her soft, plump lips, slipping inside. She inhaled sharply, her breath hitching.

Even just the way he spread her lips and stirred inside her mouth carried the weight of his desire.

“I’ll be keeping you entertained while we’re at the villa,” he murmured arrogantly before capturing her lips with his.

The night was only beginning.

Between her thighs, where he was nestled, his length hardened once more.

 

***

 

The thick scent lingering in the room was crude and indulgent.

Pulling the soft body in his arms closer, Kahn buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply.

A gentle, comforting fragrance filled his lungs—something distinctly different from the overpowering perfume saturating the room. It was an unfamiliar sweetness, like waking beneath a peach tree rather than at some masked ball where bodies tangled without care for who was who.

He wanted to stay like this a little longer, holding her slender form against him, lying idly in bed. But hunger eventually pulled him to his feet.

The sun had already climbed high, its light spilling into the room.

Beside him, the red-haired woman was still sound asleep, worn out from the night before. She didn’t stir even as he moved, her quiet, even breaths the only sound in the room.

Her bare white shoulder, her loose, crimson hair, her serene face—she looked innocent and sweet.

Innocent?

A woman who came to a noble’s villa to sell her body—innocent?

Kahn let out a scoff as his gaze trailed over the faint marks left on her pale skin. Then, pulling on only his trousers, he left the bedroom.

In the drawing room, the butler, Brand, bowed deeply as soon as he appeared.

“You’re awake, sir.”

“I’ll be staying for a while. Breakfast?”

“It has been prepared.”

Familiar with the villa, Kahn needed no guidance and made his way to the dining room.

Once seated, he took a sip of water while the servants brought out his meal.

Steak, salad, meat pie, preserved fruit—he ate whatever was within reach, only pausing once his hunger was satisfied.

Leaning back in his chair, he idly tapped the table with the fork still in his hand, lost in thought.

Just thinking about last night made his penis, which had been quite swollen, throbbed again.

She had claimed that she was a virgin and refused penetration, yet Rackley had been remarkably eager—enough to drive him mad with want.

Her body burned with need, her legs wrapping around his waist as she rubbed herself shamelessly against his thigh.

Her act of innocence was impressively convincing, and Kahn had lost himself in it completely. The fact that he had abstained for a while only made it easier to sink into her.

She trembled as if experiencing everything for the first time, reacting with an almost exaggerated sensitivity, blushing at every touch. Even the way she moaned—it was exactly to his taste.

“Ah, it’s so hot… Ahhhng!”

“Kahn… Kahnnnn…”

Her moans of pleasure echoed in his ears as he slid his cock between her legs from behind and rubbed it, or as he pushed Rackley’s upper body against the seat and rubbed it with his cock.

Her face was wet with pleasure, though she didn’t know what to do. The thought of her face looking up at him with tear-filled eyes made his cock stiffen in his trousers again.

He had no intention of penetrating her, even if she didn’t want him to. He’d had women suck on his penis before, but he’d never put it inside of them and ejaculated, leaving his semen behind.

Because of this, strange rumors had begun to circulate—some even whispering that he was impotent. Those rumors had spread particularly far just before he left the capital.

Kahn pressed his fingers to his furrowed brow, forcing his thoughts elsewhere.

It had been a long time since he’d indulged himself so thoroughly.

Men were such contrary creatures. When he had decided not to take her, it had been bearable—but the moment she was the one refusing, his patience had frayed, his restraint turning into a desperate hunger.

With skills like that, no wonder she was invited to a noble’s villa.

“Brand,” he called out, tilting his head lazily. “You made a good pick this time. Where did you find her?”

Kahn had been complimenting Brand, the butler who managed his friend’s villa.

The villa’s owner, Baron Walidon Harverden, was a man of indulgence, known for his hedonistic tastes. He often invited women to the villa for lavish parties, and when he wasn’t there, his friends would sometimes stay, bringing their own company for entertainment.

Kahn had never come here alone before. But this time, he had wanted a few days of quiet, so he had asked Harverden to lend him the villa. No, asked wasn’t quite right—he had told him he would be staying.

He hadn’t planned on calling for a woman. Yet when he arrived late last night, one was already waiting for him.

It seemed Harverden had hastily informed the butler to prepare some company for him.

The moment he saw Rackley, standing there in a sheer white muslin dress, her damp eyes gazing up at him—his resolve for solitude crumbled. What man could resist when she looked practically naked, her gaze full of unspoken invitation?

And then, she had played the role of the reluctant virgin, begging him not to put it in. That alone had been enough to keep his interest.

It had been too tempting.

The whole act—her trembling innocence, her desperate little gasps—had sent a thrill through him. It made him rougher than usual, made him want to see how long he could hold back, just to test his own restraint.

He never crossed that final line, never truly took her, but the desire to claim her had only grown stronger.

Well, she’s a woman who does this for a living. He saw no reason to concern himself with guilt.

And if she was in this line of work, she would surely take precautions. Even if he had taken her completely, there would have been no consequences.

“Seems I’ll have an enjoyable stay after all.”

But just as he was savoring that thought, Brand’s measured voice pulled him from his memories.

“Your Grace, Duke Kahn Lascarton…”

The butler stood before him, head bowed deeply, avoiding his gaze.

It was the stance of a servant who had made a mistake.

Kahn frowned. He had only arrived late last night—what could the butler possibly have done wrong in that short time?

“Did you happen to see the broken carriage on your way in last night?” Brand asked carefully.

“Ah. Yes.”

Kahn had come on horseback, but he did recall passing a damaged carriage.

“The young lady currently in the villa… she was in that carriage. It got stuck in the mud, and the wheel broke. This morning, I sent a servant to help with the repairs and bring her belongings.”

“And?”

Brand hesitated, licking his dry lips, his unease clear.

He was visibly struggling to continue.

“Last night, when the lady gave only her name, we assumed she had been summoned by you or the master of the villa. It isn’t uncommon for Lord Harverden’s guests to arrive unannounced… and for them to bring female companions as well.”

A cold sense of foreboding settled in Kahn’s gut.

“And?” he pressed.

The butler lowered his head even further.

“When the servant retrieved her belongings this morning, the coachman clarified something… That young lady was not meant to come here. She was actually a guest of the Solomon villa nearby.”

“Solomon? I wasn’t aware of a noble villa by that name.”

It was the first time he had heard of it. The lack of a title attached suggested it was owned by a wealthy gentry family rather than nobility.

“Yes, they purchased the Cartliga estate last year and renovated it. It’s a small villa near the forest. The lady arrived first while the carriage was being repaired, but… she must have mistaken this villa for the one she was meant to visit.”

Kahn’s eyes narrowed.

“So you didn’t call for her?”

“No, Your Grace. And…”

Brand trailed off, his reluctance growing.

This revelation was already an absurd mistake—but nothing that couldn’t be handled. After all, he hadn’t forced her. She had responded to him. They had both taken pleasure in what happened.

But the butler’s grim expression remained. In fact, it only darkened.

“And?” Kahn demanded. “What else?”

Brand bowed his head even lower.

This wasn’t the first time the butler had cleaned up after one of Harverden’s wild nights. He had undoubtedly dealt with the aftermath of Kahn’s indulgences before, tidying up the evidence without a word.

Yet today, he looked disturbed.

Finally, after another long pause, Brand spoke.

“Your Grace… that young lady is the daughter of Count Winner.”

Kahn froze.

His mind went blank.