Chapter 40

Even when he had come in briefly earlier to get the sword, Hisa had been asleep.

Her soft lips slightly parted, clutching the violet durumagi tightly in red fingertips as she slept.

Like a child who thought she’d lose her way if she let go of a hem.

No matter how fine the silk, Hisa’s fingers gripping it so long looked painful.

“What am I supposed to do with this.”

Hong Yeom-rang muttered darkly.

He had only moved a few steps, yet his heart was pounding fast.

It felt like his blood was rushing backward, making his breath keep shortening.

Even when he boldly said he thought lewd thoughts every day, he had felt nothing.

After all, goblins weren’t people, so Hong Yeom-rang felt no shame.

But now his head throbbed.

“Ha…”

Hot breath burst out.

Sitting beside Hisa, he carefully unfolded her fingers one by one, which had kept bothering him.

She must have been biting them when he wasn’t looking.

“…Rang-ah.”

When he had almost straightened all her fingers, Hisa opened her eyes drowsily.

He had been gently pulling the cloth from her hand, but suddenly that same hand came up before his face.

Those rough wounded red fingers touched his forehead.

“You’ve got a fever.”

“Fed you a meal and now you’ve got no strength left, huh.”

At his gruff words, Hisa smiled softly and wriggled sideways.

Feeling over the blanket-covered spot where she had just slept, she tugged Hong Yeom-rang toward it.

“I warmed it for you. Lie down. I’ll go get medicine.”

Hong Yeom-rang didn’t refuse.

He shoved his large body into the place she made.

Hisa’s body was pushed farther back.

As she tried to get up to bring medicine, he pressed hard on her shoulder.

Half embracing her, he forced his way in and lay down beside her.

Startled by his strength and the sudden rush of male scent right before her face, Hisa fought off the remnants of sleep.

“It’s fine. Sleep like this.”

“…It’s uncomfortable.”

“Shut up. I’m uncomfortable too.”

He was enduring it too, so what did it matter if Hisa was uncomfortable.

– Sleep a flower-night together. However much hair she nibbles, it won’t compare to the yang energy a man puts in himself.

No chance.

The goblin’s words drifted through Hong Yeom-rang’s head.

Yang energy, f*ck, forget that.

He just lay there pressed against her.

Wrapping an arm around Hisa’s waist as she tried to pull back saying it was uncomfortable, he rested his chin atop her small head.

A sweet heavy honey scent slowly rose.

“I’m sick, so just stay still.”

“If I stay still, will that make the pain go away?”

You need medicine to get better.

There was concern in Hisa’s words, but something in the absent-minded jab made Hong Yeom-rang grow even hotter.

“Please, miss. Please.”

Though spoken like a plea, he said it through clenched teeth, so it sounded like a threat.

Hisa fell quiet.

She had never slept this close to someone, so it felt awkward and uncomfortable.

But the sleepiness that hadn’t left came washing back, and she just closed her eyes.

He looks sensitive because he’s sick.

Once he falls asleep, I’ll get up and brew medicine.

The Hisa who said it was uncomfortable soon moved seeking warmth.

Unconsciously she pressed against him, breathing softly against his bare chest.

Her breathing became even.

Hisa was the first to fall asleep.

“My chest tickles and I’m uncomfortable too. But you dragged me here.”

Hong Yeom-rang said it to the sleeping Hisa with a sigh.

Someone who had never intended to lie here had been dragged in.

He had rubbed his cock here, masturbating in that lukewarm warmth.

And now Hisa had laid him down in the same place again.

It was maddening.

Afraid that if he moved away he might lose reason and repeat what he did yesterday with a mind cooked by heat, he held Hisa tight.

To Hong Yeom-rang, this place felt like hell.

“Talking nonsense…”

His molars ground.

At the goblin’s lewd words telling him to put in yang energy, his cock throbbed.

Hong Yeom-rang pulled his hips back.

His cock, rising through the thin cloth of his trousers, kept touching Hisa’s navel, and below grew wetter than the chest she was breathing against.

Instinct urged his hips to move.

Whispered to rub against Hisa’s navel since he was touching it anyway.

It felt like the forest was full of ghosts.

Endlessly whispering in his ear.

Lewd bastard.

If she needs yang energy as the goblin said, then pour it into her as much as you want.

“…Miss, asleep?”

Hong Yeom-rang called to Hisa.

His eyes slowly closed.

Hisa gave no answer, her breathing steady, so he tried matching his breath to hers.

In sleep, the heart beats slower, the breath grows slower.

Hong Yeom-rang let his breath out in time with Hisa’s.

He had meant to calm down that way.

But Hisa’s breath came a beat too quickly, awkwardly so.

One corner of his mouth tilted.

His red tongue slipped out and licked his lower lip.

Lifting heavy eyelids, he murmured quietly.

“Keep sleeping. If you open your eyes, our miss might be in trouble.”

He stopped drawing his lower body away.

Hong Yeom-rang let out a long breath and turned his back to Hisa.

The lukewarm warmth behind him stayed.

His large hand slid beneath his waistband.

He gripped his swollen cock leaking precome as if wringing it.

With a sharp ache, every sensation gathered not below, but toward the warmth at his back.

When Hisa startled and breathed sharply, he squeezed and released the cock in his palm.

His hand slid from the root where his balls hung to the tip.

It wasn’t imagination that below felt wetter.

His trousers were soaked sticky.

Liquid running from the tip flowed down the shaft, wetting even the hair at his cock so it drooped.

Everything had gone mad.

He had clearly gone insane clutching his cock.

More aroused now hearing Hisa’s quickened breath than when he rubbed against the place she had lain by himself.

His head turned to mush.

“Hngh, ngh, hngh, if you open your eyes, ha, fck, miss, you’ll die. Keep… ngh… pretending… till the end. Smell or whatever, fck, ah, I’ll handle… all of it myself.”

That damp chestnut blossom scent.

It rose again from what he had exposed below.

He remembered the bitter taste of chestnuts.

Hong Yeom-rang kept wetting his lower lip with his tongue.

Slap. Slap.

Every time his palm moved over his lower body, wet sounds came.

Sticky strands clung to his palm.

And still the warmth behind him never left the bedding.

As he had turned away, his hips slowly moved again.

Hong Yeom-rang’s backside touched Hisa’s navel.

He almost wished she would shove his back away.

When Hisa didn’t push him off, Hong Yeom-rang clenched his teeth and stroked himself wildly.

His taut hollowed stomach, Hisa’s ruined breathing, pushed him straight to climax.

“…Haa, haa, hngh… our miss… listens so well.”

Seed spilled in long streams, soaking his palm.

His waistband and thighs were wet in moments.

The smell Hisa had spoken of spread too thickly to hide.

He hated this smell, so he barely even masturbated.

Yet he could swear he had done it here far more than anywhere outside.

Gulp.

“Ah, f*ck.”

A crude curse slipped from Hong Yeom-rang’s lips, along with a sudden cold laugh.

At the truly f*cked timing, Hisa swallowed dryly.

As if she had swallowed his cock’s fluid, he rubbed himself again with his wet hand.

Leaving Hisa, who had made his cock rise behind him, assured she could see nothing, Hong Yeom-rang shamelessly kept stroking himself.

The smell of cock fluid couldn’t be helped.

His slick palm slid wetly.

The feel of gripping his own cock made everything feel endlessly twisted.

Yet thinking of Hisa frozen behind him sent jolts through him.

Pressing his backside to the navel he had wanted to rub his cock against, he worked his hand faster.

With his rough movements, Hisa’s belly was slowly rubbed and nudged.

Each time, weak breath slipped from Hisa’s lips.

Did Hisa know she was breathing through her mouth.

Hong Yeom-rang’s twisted lips would not relax.

When would she move.

When would Hisa pretend to wake.

When she did, he should tell her.

When you’re flustered and aroused, you breathe through your mouth.

“Hngh… ngh…”

His tightly suppressed breath escaped at last.

That brief moment of release came again.

Hearing his own filthy moan echo in the cave, vivid in his ears, Hong Yeom-rang grew curious.

What kind of moan would come from Hisa’s mouth.

Suddenly, he wanted to know very badly.