The Witch Didn't Raise the Tyrant That Way - Chapter 5: The Problem Grew Worse (5) (M)

Up until now, Kyle had used selective erectile dysfunction as an excuse to avoid a political marriage. Of course, that excuse was a secret known only to Kyle himself, but either way, it had worked. Despite my efforts in researching various remedies, I’d never managed to create anything that seemed effective, so his condition should still be the same as it was before.

The condition where he could easily become aroused with me, no matter the time or place, but remained entirely unresponsive around others.

But if he were truly preparing for a royal wedding, it wouldn’t make sense for him to still have that issue.

‘Either it was a lie all along… or he’s somehow recovered.’

Until now, I had always assumed it was the former. But seeing him suddenly prepare for marriage made me wonder if it might actually be the latter. If that were the case, had he found another woman who could arouse him? Someone from a distinguished noble family?

No. It didn’t matter either way.

What I felt was a surge of betrayal. My heart raced uncontrollably.

Was that why he no longer called for me as often? Why, even when he did, he no longer pressed himself onto me the way he used to, instead holding me quietly in his arms?

Had he stopped feeling any urgency about our relationship?

‘…And yet, here I was, foolishly thinking he couldn’t sleep without me.’

The audacity of my own delusion hit me like a wave of embarrassment. How could I have been so egotistical…?

* * *

“Have you been waiting for me, Lyn?”

“Hng…”

“Now, just from sucking on your breasts a little, you’re already dripping everywhere.”

That evening.

With a satisfied smile tugging at his lips, Kyle began moving his hand quickly, which was buried beneath me. Pressing his thumb firmly against my clitoris, he roughly thrust two fingers inside, the intense heat causing my legs to twitch involuntarily. Squish, squelch, slosh. My increasingly wet inner walls rubbed against his skin, producing lewd sounds.

“Hah, ahh! Hng! Ah!”

“Just wait a little longer. I’ll hit the spot you love…”

“Ahhh…!”

Had my body grown accustomed to his touch? Even though he didn’t take as much time as before to tease me, the climax came quickly, and I released in a rush of fluid.

But it seemed his purpose wasn’t just to prepare my body. As if it would be a waste, he carefully licked the clear, slick fluid from his fingers before pushing my hips upward. Kneeling, he used his thighs to support my back, effortlessly positioning me with my upper body arched and my hips raised high. With my weight supported by my neck, blood rushed to my face, leaving it flushed as I looked up at Kyle between my legs.

Kyle’s crimson eyes were, as always, hazy with lust.

Spreading my thighs apart, he roughly pried my hips open with his hands, exposing everything. I could feel the layers of my labia, sticky with moisture, being peeled apart. After the recent climax, my slick, flushed inner walls were left glistening, entirely exposed to his gaze.

Kyle locked eyes with me, staring intently through the view of my exposed entrance as he slowly slid his tongue deep inside my trembling, nervous opening.

Slurp, slurp, gulp… The sound of him greedily sucking down the clear fluids echoed in the room. Each time his tongue licked the ridges near my entrance, the hole involuntarily twitched, and whenever his lips brushed against the exposed clitoris nestled between my folds, a sharp, tingling sensation shot through the entire area around my entrance and groin.

Even after reaching climax once already, my lower body spasmed instantly at just that level of stimulation. My entrance quivered and clenched repeatedly around his tongue, while my thighs—suspended in midair—twitched, and my curled toes traced circles in the air.

“Stop… enough… I’ve already, ahh, hng… loosened up…!”

I struggled to stop him, groaning weakly, but Kyle didn’t relent. Whether I climaxed or not, he pressed his head almost vertically against me, continuing his relentless stimulation as though his sole purpose was to melt my inner walls completely with heat. He greedily slurped up every drop of fluid that dripped down, leaving nothing behind.

In truth, not much had changed in my time with Kyle. The only thing unusual was when he would call me to his study, only to hold me quietly without initiating anything. Beyond that, he still eagerly sought to join with me morning and night, growing more uninhibited as he reveled in how accustomed I had become to our intimacy.

When I moved my hips to take him deeper, he would encourage me to go further, often placing me on top of him. He obsessively sucked on me or used the duck-shaped toy to stimulate me, watching with fixation as my body twitched and clenched uncontrollably, as if it had a mind of its own. And all the while, he waited—watched—for the moment I would spread my legs or push my hips toward him, begging him to take me.

My body, weakened by pleasure, shamefully but willingly accepted it all. When I eventually gave in to his desires, Kyle would smile as though he were the happiest man in the world, holding me as if I were the most precious thing in existence. He would hug me, touch me, knead me, rub against me, pinch me… He wanted to possess everything—my tears, my saliva, my fluids, my moans, and my climaxes.

The heavy bounce of my breasts in rhythm with his touch, the curves of my body as my hips arched in response to overwhelming pleasure, and the hoarse whimpers I couldn’t suppress, bordeLyng on sobs—all of it belonged to him.

When I lay in his arms, with a part of him buried deep inside me, moving together in unison, it felt like the world contained only the two of us.

Just like when we were in the forest.

Like that time during the rainy season, when I held Kyle’s head tightly in my arms, covering his ears as we fell asleep.

Today, too, I found myself trapped in the shadow of his body, swaying helplessly, overwhelmed by the strain of his cock lodged between my thighs. The flared tip of his length relentlessly prodded my cervix, filling me with a sadness so profound that tears trickled down my cheeks.

Kyle, mistaking them for reflexive tears, licked them all away—but that wasn’t the reason I was crying.

If his marriage had been decided, shouldn’t he have told me?

If that issue had been resolved, wasn’t I owed an explanation?

I couldn’t confront him directly because I’d learned about it by sneaking around behind his back. Still, the growing resentment smoldered inside my chest. That heaviness, which usually only came from the deep, penetrating sensation during sex, lingered regardless of how many times I climaxed—it never went away.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask.

Are you getting married?

What happens to me, then?

Do you know the rumors spreading about me?

What am I to you?

But I swallowed down all the questions that clawed at my throat, suppressing them with difficulty. All that escaped me were stifled moans and muffled sobs.

I felt like a child. Though… perhaps that wasn’t entirely untrue. In both my previous life and this one, I’d spent most of my time isolated. In my previous life, I was confined to a hospital, and in this life, I was a witch living in solitude. I had so little interaction with others that it was inevitable I’d be slow to grasp such things.

So, I endured. Over and over, I forced myself to hold back.

If he finds out I’ve been sneaking around, the maids and attendants will be the ones to face his wrath…

No, that was pure self-deception.

I used the kind, polite maids and the efficient, respectful attendants as an excuse. But the truth was, I was just running away.

Afraid of hearing answers I didn’t want.

Afraid that asking unnecessary questions might irreparably tarnish the memories of the time we’d spent together, the tenderness we felt for one another.

…No, those were just flimsy excuses. That peaceful time was already lost the moment I pressed my tongue into his mouth, and he drove himself into me. The reason I stayed by his side, surrendeLyng to his desire day and night like an animal, guarding his bed without a trace of humiliation, was…

…

The moment you admit something, it becomes undeniable.

So I chose to ask something else instead.

“Kyle.”

“Yeah.”

“My status… You said you’d create one for me.”

“…I did.”

“When will it be done?”

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

Afraid I’d make up a clumsy excuse, I bit my lip and gazed up at him as my chest rose and fell against his. He had just pulled out of me and was wiping his length clean with a towel. Sliding his hands beneath me, he pulled me into his arms, pressing my shoulders and back firmly against him. Resting his cheek against the soft curve of my breast, he muttered:

“Just wait.”

“….”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

* * *

I had a dream.

“You’re saying you’ll leave just because I’m getting married? Are you delusional? You’re going to stay as my personal handmaid. I can only get it up when you’re around, so if I need to consummate my marriage with the queen, you’re the one who has to get me ready.”

In the end, I asked Kyle about his arranged marriage. He nonchalantly told me that he was set to marry some duke’s daughter in the fall and that he still suffered from selective erectile dysfunction. Until I managed to create an effective cure, he had no plans to leave the palace.

I failed to make the medicine before his wedding night, and Kyle took me to his bridal chamber.

In front of the queen, whose face I couldn’t see, Kyle laid me down on the floor and caressed me. He sucked on my breasts and my private parts, managing to barely achieve an erection. Once he was fully hard, he stepped up to the lofty canopy bed, pulled back the drapes, and consummated his marriage with the queen.

I lay there, abandoned beneath them, listening to him serve his bride. Between my legs, where I had been flushed with anticipation for a deep, heavy thrust, sat the trembling head of a duck-shaped figuLyne.

It was a nightmare.

And yet, it felt like something that could happen.

Since long ago, I had always babbled on about the kind of life I wanted if I ever gained status, so Kyle knew full well why I was so desperate to secure it. He also remembered how I had begged him to resolve my lack of status while I was at the palace.

But while he began preparing for his marriage, he said not a word about it to me. At the same time, he offered no concrete plans or promises about granting me a title.

Perhaps he wanted to take a noblewoman of distinguished lineage as his wife, to respect and revere her, while keeping someone like me—who wasn’t even officially recognized as existing—as his personal handmaid, a toy to satisfy his vulgar tastes. Maybe that’s why he looked so delighted every time I, unable to handle his filthy advances, begged him for more.

… I didn’t want to be reduced to something so miserable.

Just a few months ago, my only dream had been to live out my life peacefully, tending a vegetable garden, studying herbs, and making potions to sell.

“What in the world did I do so wrong to deserve this…?”

At times, resentment toward Kyle would bubble up inside me, but even feeling that way about him was painful.

I didn’t want to see the depths of his depravity.

…I just want to go home.