When the Villains Unite - Chapter 16: Trace (3) (M)

“Right now, you’re being forced by this ‘bastard’ and getting turned on, aren’t you?”

“Ahh…! S-stop… please…!”

I wanted to deny his words, but my body, driven by sheer physiological response to the relentless stimulation, betrayed me by feeling pleasure. Damian, moving like a beast consumed by rage, seemed deaf to my desperate pleas for him to stop. It was as though he had lost all reason, intent only on continuing this blinded act of lust.

“Ah… ngh! Hah, huuh…!”

As the intensity of his thrusts grew, so did the volume of my moans, forcing me to bite my lip to stifle them. No matter how overwhelmed I was, this was the Imperial Palace. What could he possibly be thinking, acting like this here of all places?

When the muffled, choked sounds of my suppressed cries began to escape, he suddenly adjusted his grip and repositioned me, as though something about my reaction had annoyed him further. My body jolted violently, and the fear of falling made me instinctively cling tighter to his neck.

“Hngh…!”

“Hah…”

Damian, still holding me tightly, carried me toward his desk. With every step he took, I could feel the ridges and veins of his length pressing deeply against my inner walls, making me acutely aware of every movement.

As he set me down on the desk, a bottle of liquor perched on its edge toppled to the floor and shattered with a sharp crash. At the same time, the brief gap created between us caused my entrance to spill a sudden gush of fluids, sending a shiver through me. I instinctively shut my eyes at the sensation.

“Haa… no, I don’t want this… ngh…”

“Even though your pussy is dripping so much, showing how much it likes this, all you can say is that you don’t want it…” Damian sneered.

“Nngh… ahh…”

“Well then, I guess I have no choice but to help you be more honest with yourself.”

With his hands now free after placing me on the desk, Damian spread my legs wide apart and resumed his thrusting at an even faster pace. The increased speed wasn’t just in my imagination—it was real. My inner walls, rubbed raw by the relentless friction, burned as if scorched, while, as if in betrayal, they released more fluids just as he had mockingly pointed out.

“Haa… ngh, ahh…!”

The wet, obscene sound of his movements, the slapping of his hips against me, echoed in my ears, drowning out any coherent thought. As Damian’s thrusts grew faster and deeper, a familiar tension began to build rapidly within me, signaling the approach of my climax.

But as I drew closer to the peak, an odd sense of coldness seeped into my mind. The chandelier on the ceiling above swung back and forth in my blurred vision, leaving streaks of light that made my head spin.

“Ahh… ngh… ahh!”

Damian, seemingly on the verge of his own release, drove into me harder and deeper, aiming for the spot that made my body tighten uncontrollably around him. As my inner walls contracted around his length, he thrust a few more times, burying himself fully before spilling his release deep inside me.

The moment Damian’s release filled me completely, even though I had just reached my climax, I twisted my body and shoved him away. As his length withdrew, the hot liquid spilled down my thighs, leaving an odd, uncomfortable sensation.

But as if refusing to leave that space empty, he lifted me again and thrust his length back into me, positioning himself perfectly.

“Ngh…! Isn’t this enough already…?”

“…No, it’s not enough.”

“What do you mean by—ahh, hngh!”

“It’s like you’re fighting tooth and nail to hold on to some scrap of defiance. Damn it.”

Muttering words I couldn’t fully understand, Damian picked me up once more and carried me to the sofa. Without any further foreplay, he continued the relentless act.

This time, though, he seemed different. He gazed at me intently, his eyes fixed on my trembling body as if he was trying to imprint me into his memory. His moans slipped out intermittently, but his focus never wavered.

“Hngh… ahh…”

Yet I had no intention of letting him simply take control. I hadn’t anticipated any of this, and I wasn’t going to submit so easily.

Despite gasping for breath under his movements, I pushed at him with all the strength I could muster, trying repeatedly to free myself from his grasp.

Smack!

In an attempt to stop Damian, my hand struck his cheek, turning his face to the side. Almost immediately, a red mark began to bloom on his pale skin where my hand had landed.

As Damian froze, my body tensed with dread. His golden hair, now disheveled, obscured his expression, and an unsettling fear crept into me—what might he do in this state of lost control?

But when he turned his head to meet my eyes, I was caught off guard. His golden irises shimmered with tears, on the verge of spilling over. The sight struck me like a blow to the head, leaving me stunned. For a moment, I nearly forgot everything he had just done to me, utterly thrown by this unexpected vulnerability.

Without a word, Damian gently lowered me from his grasp. As he withdrew, the sensation of his length sliding out of me caused friction against my sore inner walls, making a faint moan escape my lips despite myself.

On the floor beneath us, the evidence of what had just happened—an opaque mixture of precum and fluids—formed a sticky puddle, a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, my legs, drained of all strength, gave out beneath me, and I collapsed right there.

“…….”

It was as if the slap I had delivered to his cheek was some kind of signal; he made no move to stir from his spot. He simply stood there, gazing down at my disheveled state, fat tears rolling down his face. His pupils began to tremble uncontrollably, as if he himself were shocked by what he had done.

“Why… with those eyes…”

“…….”

Damian murmured to himself, his words barely audible, as though he were talking to no one but himself.

Finding his behavior odd, I hurriedly tried to lift myself up and reached out a hand to assess his condition. However, he brushed my hand away lightly and stepped back a few paces, putting more distance between us. I hesitated, unable to approach him recklessly.

What followed was utterly bewildering. Damian, without any warning, struck his own face with his fist. The dull thud of the impact startled me so much that I covered my mouth in shock.

But it didn’t end there. He punched himself again and again, as though punishing himself. When blood began to trickle from his lips, I grabbed him without a second thought, desperate to stop him.

The only reason he didn’t shove me away this time was likely because he knew that, in the midst of attacking himself, he could accidentally strike me.

It was as if I had forgotten all that had just transpired. I quickly pulled his hands down and examined his face.

“My God, you’re bleeding… We need to stop the bleeding right away…”

“…Yeah, let’s stop, just like you said, sis.”

I frantically scanned the area, looking for something to use to staunch the bleeding. Finding nothing, I grabbed the sleeve of my dress and pressed it firmly against the corner of his mouth.

He looked at me then, his expression pained—more so than when he had been hitting himself moments earlier.

“Can’t you hear me saying, ‘Let’s stop now?’”

“You don’t mean it.”

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t angry at his forceful behavior. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d been reckless myself, cutting through his reason with those needless words when he was about to leave the room.

However, even if I were to dismiss his behavior as a form of rebellion, what had just happened had gone too far. Based on that alone, I didn’t think I could easily forgive him.

For someone who usually acted without hesitation, it was baffling to see him so afraid of what might come out of my mouth. And it was precisely that cowardice of his that had driven the situation to this point.

So, was I supposed to just end things here?
How could I say it was over when I didn’t even know where “the end” truly lay?

“That’s why you should have just listened to me! I… I came here… sniffle… to talk.”

“…….”

“I thought… you were misunderstanding something… so…”

I struggled to speak through sobs, trying to carefully explain myself. Yet every word felt trapped in my throat by the swelling of emotions, and my voice trembled. It felt as though, if I hesitated any longer, Damian would storm out of the room without a second thought.

Through the motions of wiping my tears, I could see Damian’s uncertain expression and the way his hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out to me but couldn’t bring himself to. Seeing this, I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

“I thought… I was becoming a burden to you and brother because of the Count’s death. That’s why I… sniffle… I told you to stop doing this. But then you were the one who left first… even though I didn’t care what you looked like…”

“How could you not care?” Damian muttered. “That day, I…”

“Were you disappointed in me when I stabbed the Count?”

“…….”

“I’m not as altruistic as you think I am, Damian. That day, it wasn’t about what you or my brother did to the Count. What mattered to me more was how much the two of you had hidden from me and how I’d been left to live in some delusion, cut off from reality because of your lies.”

Seeing Damian’s deflated demeanor, I regained some of my composure. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from choking up every now and then as I spoke.

“That day, after seeing you and my brother shoulder all of that while keeping me locked in that illusion, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d been selfish and foolish all along.”

Seeing Damian staring at me blankly as I spoke, I continued my words. But then, suddenly, a small vortex began to swirl in the middle of his office.

Though this was a sight I was somewhat familiar with, Damian didn’t seem to care about the strange phenomenon. He simply remained frozen, his gaze locked on me, as if nothing else mattered.

By the time the vortex dissipated, Belhark’s navy-blue hair swept through the air in a gust of wind.

The moment his eyes met mine, swollen with tears and utterly disheveled, Damian’s body was abruptly flung into the air and slammed backward. It was almost as if such an outcome was inevitable.

“You’re worse than a beast,” Belhark snarled.

“…Damian!”

I shouted his name in shock at Belhark’s actions, but he paid me no mind. Instead, he strode toward me, his presence sharp and unyielding. Without hesitation, he reached down and ripped away the tattered hem of my skirt—shredded by Damian’s earlier outburst.

Before I could stop him, the act had already been done. Flustered, I moved to pull my skirt back down, but my hands froze as I noticed Belhark’s. The veins on his hands bulged unnaturally, the skin almost pale with tension, his knuckles stark white.

When my gaze lifted to his face, I instinctively knew—I shouldn’t move recklessly right now.

“Rose,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

“…Yes?”

“Go home.”

Belhark removed his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. His words were unmistakably an order, one that anyone could hear was not up for negotiation.

Behind him, Damian lay crumpled on the ground, his head bowed as thick tears streamed down his face. His pale complexion, already marred from his self-inflicted blows earlier, now bore vivid red marks that were sure to bruise.

I knew his tears weren’t solely from the pain of Belhark’s strike.

‘That’s why I told you not to do something you’d regret…’

“But… I’m not ready to…” I began hesitantly.

Before I could even finish, Belhark gently squeezed my shoulder. Despite the carefulness of his touch, his expression was terrifying, as though he was on the verge of killing someone.

Even though I knew Damian was likely to become Belhark’s target, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more as I faced him.

“It seems like it’s my turn to step in now,” Belhark said calmly.

“…….”

“I’ll be with you soon. Just stay put for now.”

Before I could respond, a simple gesture from him transported me to my room within the mansion.

Would it be okay for me to leave the room like that?
What would Belhark do to Damian while I wasn’t there? I had no way of knowing. But judging by how he punched Damian the moment he arrived, it likely wouldn’t be much different from that.

Still, he wouldn’t go so far as to kill him, would he? Or… maybe not?

I knew, logically, that what Damian had done to me was wrong. Even so, I couldn’t stop thinking about him—punishing himself, drowning in guilt, and listening silently to my words, completely consumed by remorse.

But after seeing Belhark’s terrifying expression, my concern for Damian was quickly overshadowed by worry for what Belhark might do next.

Now that I was here at the mansion, what could I even do?

I’d already boldly assured Belhark that I’d handle everything myself, only to end up in this disheveled, pitiful state. But he’d said he would come back soon. Maybe I should trust him… just this once.

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