The One Who Won't Be Abandoned - Chapter 0 Prologue (M)

A wild, muscular body covered in thick muscles panted heavily, radiating heat as it pressed down on me with overwhelming force. I had spent what felt like an eternity crying out uncontrollably, as if I’d lost my senses. Exhausted to the point of collapse, I could now only sway weakly in response to the relentless thrusting below.

“Ahh, ahh…! S-stop… please…”

After experiencing countless mind-numbing climaxes, I finally managed to think somewhat clearly.

Here I was, engaging in such intimate acts with a man I wasn’t even married to. And not just intimate—intensely so. The reckless indulgence had gone on all night, with no regard for the passage of time.

I had no idea that a man could produce so much seed endlessly. It was no surprise—I’d never been with a man before, nor had I even seen one’s manhood until today. While I wasn’t the most devout believer, I’d clung to the excuse of preserving my chastity, never once allowing a man to share my bed.

But why on earth did I have to drink so much last night? And why, of all people, did my drinking companion have to be him? The loneliness I could usually brush off somehow overwhelmed me last night, surging so powerfully that I couldn’t bear it.

“Jeanne… haah… you feel absolutely incredible inside.”

Please, just stop this already.

I wanted to shout those words at him, but my parched throat could only produce a cracked whimper.

Andre, tirelessly moving his hips above me, showed no signs of stopping. I was certain he had just finished inside me again moments ago, yet his shaft, like it was carved from stone, remained rock-hard and fully erect.

By now, I vaguely realized that this situation was far different from what my friends had ever described about their experiences.

“S-stop… please…”

“Just a little more. Just a bit more.”

I had been pleading for him to stop for what felt like forever, but Andre kept dragging it out with his “just a little longer” excuse, refusing to end it. Waves of regret crashed over me endlessly.

I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I shouldn’t have slept with Andre. Hell, I should have just picked some other guy, had drinks with him, and slept with him instead.

“Aahh…! My legs—stop, stop spreading them…”

“Does it hurt? I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

I had definitely experienced the excitement and pleasure my friends spoke of. The unfamiliar sensation of my body feeling like it wasn’t my own had been euphoric and intense. It had felt so good I thought I might stop breathing.

But that was only until Andre came for the second time. After that, the incredible pleasure began to fade, replaced by an increasing desire to escape from the torment.

‘I’d rather just pass out.’

Andre, holding my limp waist tightly with both arms, lifted my body and began thrusting even harder and faster.

The sensation of being lifted and pierced deeply from below made me squirm and twist, trying to flee. I pushed at his shoulders and struck him with my fists, trying to signal for him to stop, but my blows, drained of strength, had no effect on him. If anything, my resistance seemed to excite him more, only making things worse.

“Ahh, ugh…! Stop, stop…!”

“Jeanne… Jeanne…”

Drunk, or perhaps high. From the moment Andre started kissing me, his eyes had been crazed, unfocused like a madman. His sharp, piercing gaze was filled with fiery lust and excitement, but the way his dilated blue pupils unfocused gave him an air of dangerous madness that sent a chill down my neck.

When I first met those eyes, dulled by alcohol, they had seemed alluring. But now, with all traces of alcohol seemingly sweated out of his body, they were nothing but terrifying. The way his unhinged gaze bore down on me was predatory, as if he wanted to devour me whole, crunching my bones as he chewed.

‘Look at this psycho’s eyes! This is terrifying…’

What was going to happen to us now? At first, I had thought this would be something I could brush off, something I could blame on the alcohol. A mistake like the kind everyone makes—nothing more than a fleeting act of debauchery. I thought it was just something I had done with Andre, something that, in the future, I’d think back on as a silly memory: “Oh, I’ve done that kind of thing before.”

“Your body… it’s absolutely incredible, Jeanne. Just like I imagined.”

But his obsessive behavior, biting and sucking not just my neck and chest but also the delicate skin on the insides of my arms and even my buttocks, was starting to wear me down.

From the moment Andre drove his shaft inside me, he moved like a crazed man determined to ruin me. The relentless thrusting carried a mix of pleasure and destruction, filling me with an overwhelming sense of doom that I couldn’t shake. I felt deep down that I’d gotten involved with the wrong person—terribly so.

“You’re mine now.”

“Ahhng… ahh…!”

By now, the phrase “You’re mine” was something I had heard dozens of times, starting from our very first kiss and continuing up until now. “You’re mine. I love you. You can’t escape me,” and so on. He repeated these possessive declarations endlessly, as if trying to brand them into me.

Of course, at the beginning, when we were consumed by lust, those words had been thrilling and added to the excitement. But now, they were just tiresome.

“Jeanne, I think I’m about to come. Haah, let’s go together, okay?”

Andre’s relentless efforts to drag me back to climax once more ultimately succeeded. As his shaft struck the deepest, most sensitive parts of me with unyielding force, the deadened pleasure slowly crept back to life.

When the revived sensations surged through me, my hands, which were gripping his shoulders, clenched tighter, my nails digging into his skin.

“Ah… ahhhng… Andre…!”

Instinctively, I arched my hips, causing Andre’s length to sink even deeper inside me. Curling my toes, which had been dangling loosely near his hips, I lifted my hips further to take him in as deeply as possible.

“Ugh, Jeanne.”

His relentless thrusting, which seemed like it would never end, suddenly stopped as if on cue. His shaft, buried deep inside me as if it were a part of my body, twitched violently, releasing another wave of hot seed into me. The pleasure that started deep in my core spread like an electric current up my spine. My walls clenched tightly around him, as if unwilling to let him go.

“Jeanne… you’re squeezing me so damn tight.”

Perhaps finding the instinctive way my body clung to him to extract every last drop of his seed satisfying, Andre buried himself even deeper, emptying himself completely inside me. Together, we let out heated moans.

As the overwhelming climax faded, clarity returned to my mind, and my vision became sharper. Andre, too, relaxed his furrowed brow and locked eyes with me. Then, he began planting kisses all over my face.

“Jeanne. Jeanne.”

‘My name feels like it’s being worn away.’

I wanted to utter the words that floated to my mind as I pursed my lips, but I truly had no strength to speak. For someone who prided themselves on their stamina, this was the first time I had ever experienced such helplessness. I couldn’t muster the energy to so much as move a finger.

As I stared blankly into space while receiving a kiss, Andre asked me in a low voice, still heavy with desire.

“Are you exhausted?”

“…….”

Instead of answering, I gave a faint nod. My body felt so worn out it seemed like I might pass out any second, yet my mind, as if mocking my desire to escape reality by fainting, was painfully sharp and clear.

Seeing my feeble nod, Andre smirked, lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Shall we wash up?”

This time, I shook my head. I didn’t have the strength to get up and go wash.

I turned my head to look at the window beside the bed. Though the curtains were drawn, they were slightly parted, allowing me to glimpse the light outside. The pitch-black night had passed, and the faint blue hues of dawn had begun to seep in.

In truth, I had known from the start that the day had broken. Engrossed in entangling with him, I hadn’t bothered to rekindle the flame in the candlestick after it burned out. The dim light that left only vague silhouettes heightened the senses of touch between us. But as dawn broke, Andre’s face and body began to come into clearer view bit by bit.

His forehead and nose bridge were wet and moist from the intense activity. His body, which had clearly been flat when he was young, had grown large and filled with solid muscles.

‘A perfect man.’

The child who had been comforted in my arms had become a man. I realized this painfully all night, writhing in pleasure under Andre’s body.

In the past, I often stroked Andre’s blond hair, drawn to its soft texture, a comforting reminder of his boyish innocence. But today, overwhelmed by uncontrollable excitement, I grasped that golden hair—once a symbol of nostalgic childhood—in my hand, crying out in a voice I couldn’t suppress.

Even though his body had grown, I still thought of Andre as someone inherently young. Yet being held by him now was beyond words—an inexplicable flutter in my chest, mixed with a sinful sense of guilt that weighed heavily on me.

If it was a sin, then it was a sin I had committed against myself. Should anyone ever discover this, the smooth, straightforward life I was meant to lead could be thrown into chaos, sinking into a mire of disgrace in an instant.

I’m sorry, Jeanne. I must be nothing more than a woman incapable of resisting a fleeting moment of desire.

Just as I was trying to use my thoughts as an excuse to let go of my senses, Andre, who had covered my face and neck with kisses, pulled me into a tight embrace, as if wanting to crush me in his arms.

His warm yet sweat-slicked skin pressed against mine. Perhaps it was because I’d grown accustomed to the sensation after a night of entanglement, but it didn’t feel unpleasant at all. On the contrary, his embrace felt cozy and comforting, even soothing.

“Jeanne… ha, Jeanne.”

His breath, heavy with satisfaction, tickled my ear.

Fine. What’s done is done. At least for this moment, I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. The pleasure of the flesh was simply too intoxicating, too sweet. It was a dangerous thing—so addictive that it made me forget the torment of the night and crave that peak of ecstasy all over again.

I draped my limp arms around Andre’s neck, seeking the lips teasing my ear. I bit them gently, careful not to hurt, scraping softly with my teeth before slipping my tongue through the parted space. Andre eagerly welcomed the intrusion, entwining my tongue with his in an ardent embrace.

I could feel him still inside me, his arousal swelling and hardening once more. At the same time, the heat within me began to rise again, my already slick core growing even wetter, burning hotter.

Ah, perhaps Andre wasn’t the only one who tormented his partner throughout the night. I, too, had succumbed entirely, utterly consumed by this insatiable lust.