On Rational Marital Life - Chapter 4 (M)

Her mind went blank.

“Ah… ah…”

Her flesh stretched painfully tight. It wasn’t just the sensation of an additional finger—it felt far more intense.

Fear crept in, her body curling up as goosebumps ran down her skin. His fingers parted the tender flesh at her entrance, and she could feel every curve of them.

Even though she was wet, it was still tight, her opening straining to accommodate the thick intrusion. Just as the thought of tearing crossed her mind—

“Ah!”

His fingertips brushed against something deep inside her.

In that instant, it was as if he had triggered a mechanism within her body; her muscles contracted and then relaxed all at once.

A sharp, tingling sensation radiated through her body.

“Ah… ah…”

Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, Layla instinctively lowered her gaze toward her unseen lower body. It was the first pleasure she had ever felt.

From above her head, she heard a scoffing laugh, like the sound of air escaping. Blake had clearly noticed her reaction. Layla’s face flushed with heat.

Blake moved his hand. Like punching down the dough to release air, his palm slapped against her vulva as his fingers thrust inside her.

The sensation of something foreign moving deep within her belly felt strange, almost grotesque, yet it was something she couldn’t reject. His fingertips curved, pressing against her inner walls.

A sharp, electric thrill burst from the spot his fingers touched.

“Ah… ah… Bl-Blake, ugh! Ugh!”

Her back arched and then curled in response to his movements. She couldn’t help it. It was like a force of nature—just as no one could stop the rain or hold back a setting sun, Layla could only feel everything Blake’s thrusting hand made her experience.

Thump, squelch, thump, squish. Loud, obscene sounds echoed as his hand struck against her lower body. Like the act of adding drops of water to an already full teacup, her bladder grew fuller, reaching its limit. She felt the danger.

“Ah, no, I can’t—please, let me go. Wait, stop! Just for a moment, I need to go to the bathroom… just for a moment…”

“Running away in the middle of this?”

“No, no, I can’t… ah, let go! Let me go! I’ll come back, just give me a moment—no, stop!”

Thump! Blake’s wide, firm palm struck her vulva. The dull ache reverberated deep inside, shaking the tender flesh within.

He pressed his palm against her, crushing the soft flesh and giving it a short shake. The thin barrier of Layla’s endurance finally broke.

“Ah!”

Layla, whose wrists were pinned by him, twisted her hips desperately in response to the overwhelming urge to relieve herself.

Thunk. Her foot hit something, and Blake’s grip on her wrists loosened momentarily. Seizing the opportunity, Layla tried to turn her body and escape from the bed.

But it was too late.

A hot stream burst forth.

“No, no, this can’t be happening, oh no… ah…”

She tried to block it with her hands, pressing them against her lower body, but the hot liquid spilled through her fingers. Clear fluid ran down her thighs, soaking them as it flowed.

“Ah… ah…”

It was the first time something like this had happened since she had wet the bed as a child. The shame was unbearable. Layla turned onto her side, hiding her lower body with both hands, and buried her face into the sheets.

‘How could this happen? How could I make such a mistake…?’

It was an act that completely went against the norms she had been taught throughout her life. It wasn’t even the result of drinking or being out of her senses—she had been fully conscious.

The shock was overwhelming.

But Blake didn’t seem to care whether she was shaken or not. He spread her knees apart again.

Looking down at her with a now expressionless face, Blake gazed at her silently.

In the brief moment when Layla blinked, Blake’s lips were already between her legs. He sucked on the fingers she had used to cover her vulva, his tongue slipping between them. A chill ran up her spine, reaching the crown of her head, and the fine hairs on her arms stood on end.

His tongue slid past her fingers, brushing against her tender flesh. Then, as though savoring smooth, ripe fruit, he parted her opening. Pushing his thick tongue through the gap between her fingers, wet, lewd sounds filled the air—slurp, slurp, schlupp.

Blake began sucking on her vulva over her fingers.

“B-Blake! Ah!”

Startled, Layla released her hands and grabbed his hair, trying to push him away. Instead, all she managed to do was leave herself completely exposed.

With her barrier gone, his lips touched her bare vulva. Sluurp. He sucked on her flushed flesh, licking it with his thick tongue.

Her toes curled. Layla’s back arched as she clung to Blake’s head, her movements unintentionally pressing her vulva closer to his lips, as if asking for more. She trembled, her mouth open, letting out shaky breaths.

“Hngh, hh… ugh…”

Sweat seeped out, soaking her entire body. Hot breaths spread over her vulva. His lips crushed against her labia, and his tongue pushed into her entrance, sealing it. As he moved his head, the sharp ridge of his nose rubbed against her small clitoris.

She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. It was nothing like when he had used his fingers. Her mind went completely blank, unable to think at all.

After savoring her entrance for some time, Blake finally raised his upper body. A cool breeze touched her now-heated vulva for the first time. She could feel her muscles instinctively tightening and releasing.

Panting heavily, Layla looked up at Blake as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

The long scar running across his chest stood out starkly, highlighting a body that was even more robust and solidly muscular than it appeared. He radiated a different kind of authority—one that belonged solely to a ruler of the wild, distinct from the commanding presence felt when standing before a king.

Blake threw his shirt to the floor beside the bed, licking his damp lips with his tongue.

“You’ll never forget tonight.”

He looked down at Layla as he unfastened the buckle of his pants.

“Ah…”

She wanted to resist. She should have been angry. It was a situation where she ought to protest and demand justice. But all her words vanished into nothingness the moment her eyes fell on Blake’s body.

Unconsciously, Layla leaned back, trying to create distance.

She had already noticed when he removed his shirt, but now it was clear—his entire body was covered in scars.

For someone who had faced countless battlefields, the scars scattered across his body, both large and small, seemed like badges of honor. Even as he exposed himself, he radiated confidence.

Layla felt overwhelmed by the scars, each one seeming to tell a story of pain. But then her gaze caught on something else, something completely foreign.

She forgot to turn her head away, even though she knew she should.

Blake Berman’s solid, powerful physique seemed to fade into the background in comparison to the sheer presence of his manhood. It was monstrous.

The descriptions of Blake Berman that had dominated the newspapers during the war came rushing back to her mind. That size—it truly resembled something demonic or beastly. Just looking at it, she could feel the heat radiating from him.

It was hard to believe something like that could be attached to a human body. The only word that came to mind was “gigantic.”

Blake smirked as he ran his hand along his member right in front of her. What had been slightly curved began to straighten and grow stiffer with a few strokes of his hand.

The size changed right before her eyes. Layla forgot to breathe.

It was a weapon. She had already felt overwhelmed by his fingers, and there was no way something as thick as her wrist could enter her. The head of it was so large and rounded it resembled a baby’s clenched fist.

Even though nothing had happened yet, the air in the room seemed to change. His scent, mixed with the fragrance of his cologne, grew heavy and intoxicating. The thickened atmosphere made Layla gasp for air.

“N-no, that… that can’t go in,” she stammered.

“It’ll go in. And you’ll love it,” Blake said confidently, as though he had already experienced her body.

“It’ll tear… I’ll get hurt,” Layla protested, shaking her head.

“Maybe. A little blood, but that’s normal for virgins, isn’t it?”

His calm, matter-of-fact response left her too stunned to even think about escaping.

Blake wrapped his hand around Layla’s pale, trembling neck. Unlike his aroused body, his gaze was cold, resembling the cruel specter of war.

Blake Berman was angry at Layla. She could feel it clearly.

His cold eyes made her body shrink instinctively.

‘What did I do wrong…?’

Before their marriage, Blake Berman had been indifferent. He had personally said their marriage was a formality. There had been no reason for anger or any emotion to arise between them.

So why?

Her confused thoughts didn’t last long. Blake flipped her body over, grabbing her waist and yanking her toward him.

Her chemise rolled up around her waist. Now, with her hips raised and her body bent over, she was exposed, showing her bare vulva without any underwear.

Layla’s face burned with humiliation.

“To confirm my bride’s purity, I’ll need to see some blood.”

His voice had softened slightly, though his actions remained as rough as ever. His calloused hand roughly swept over her vulva, the uneven texture of his toughened palm scraping against her sensitive areas as it passed.

“Ah!”

“Well, it’s dried up again. Tsk.”

His fingers pushed back into her tight entrance. Having already explored what made her react earlier, his fingertips pressed confidently against those spots, knowing exactly where to touch. Covering her entire vulva with his palm, he stimulated her opening as well as the surrounding area, coaxing more fluids out of her. The heated friction warmed her vulva further.

Unable to adjust to the relentless stimulation, Layla gripped the sheets tightly.

“Hngh… ugh…”

“There’s no need to be scared. Soon enough, just seeing your husband’s cock will make you wet. I’ll make sure of it. You’ll never forget it.”

Blake used his other hand to grab Layla’s breast, teasing her nipple. Each time he thrust his fingers into her entrance, he rubbed her clitoris and pinched her nipple simultaneously.

It felt as though her body was being used like a plaything, and the humiliation only heightened her arousal. The conflict between those emotions made Layla’s eyes sting with heat. Even though she didn’t want it, her lower body continued to grow wetter.

“B-Blake Berman, please… ugh,” she pleaded.

“Is that you begging me to put it in?”

He smirked mischievously, knowing full well that wasn’t what she meant.

Layla shook her head, clutching the sheets tightly.

“Talk to me again after you’ve tried it once,” he said with a teasing grin.

“Ah…”

Suddenly, his fingers withdrew from inside her. A large hand gripped her waist. Something hard pressed against her now loosened, slippery flesh. The tip found her entrance and began to push in. Her opening stretched slightly.

Layla held her breath, her body trembling. It had barely started entering, and already her body tensed up from the pressure. The tightness at the entrance felt overwhelming.

“Tsk.” Blake clicked his tongue above her.

“Relax.”

“W-wait a moment, just a moment. Ugh…”

He was merciless. Despite her pleading, he showed no compassion. The massive tip of his member pushed forward, stretching her entrance wide. The sensation of her flesh thinning to its limit, as if it might tear, was vivid. Layla didn’t dare move, afraid that even the slightest misstep would cause her to tear and bleed.

“Ah… ugh…”

She gripped the sheets tightly, her fingertips turning white. A moan escaped her throat, rough and strained.

Just when she thought she couldn’t stretch any further, the tip slid in completely, her opening contracting around it. Then, with a sudden snap, she felt something tear inside.