Chapter 23
Celia’s gaze wandered aimlessly through the empty air.
With nowhere to land, her eyes slid through the atmosphere, brushed against the wall, lingered on the floor, and scattered back into the void.
Damn it, there’s no way this is a dream!
“Not at all! I’m not even the slightest bit curious!”
She poured every ounce of strength into her arms. Her trembling hands desperately tried to push him away—a pitiful effort that Lucius seemed to take pity on, as he allowed himself to be nudged back just a fraction.
“Back off. Acting like this isn’t like you at all!”
It was a highly calculated remark, spoken in the hope that it would make him retreat. She knew he had no intention of recklessly breaking the mold his ‘original self’ had created; until now, he had moved strictly within the boundaries set by the man he was before losing his memories.
Lucius’s sunken eyes flared open, parting with a sharp, agonizing sting, like raw flesh being torn open.
“Is that so…?”
The realization that her words had been a mistake hit her the exact moment he drew even closer, shattering her belief that he would meekly back away.
“In that case, let us forget about the old me.”
Forget him? Forget what? He was the one who had constantly compared his past self to his present self.
“Look at the man standing right in front of you now, Celia.”
Celia sucked her lower lip between her teeth. As her fleeting, trembling breath pressed against her crimson lips, leaving a faint mark, Lucius’s gaze traced the indentation.
He whispered with a knowing smile.
“Stop.”
A brief command, entirely at odds with his soft voice. His finger pressed firmly against her lips.
“If you are going to bite something, you should be biting mine.”
His thumb applied pressure, forcing her lips apart. Between her even rows of teeth, her crimson tongue flinched and tried to hide inside. In an instant, his long fingers invaded the round opening of her mouth.
“Mmph!”
“Do not even think about ruining these pretty lips.”
Her words and her breath were swallowed whole as his merciless touch captured her moving tongue. Meanwhile, the hand that had been roaming near her calf slid deeper, pressing against the inside of her thigh to force her legs wide open. It didn’t take long for Lucius to press his lower body flush against hers.
As they connected below, Celia’s toes curled tight.
“Ah!”
Her sharply bared teeth sank into his finger.
Yet, as if incapable of feeling pain, Lucius only stared straight at her. Watching her face flush a deep crimson, his smile deepened.
“Do you want me to stop?”
His brutal hand contradicted his gentle tone, violating her to the very root of her tongue before lightly scraping the roof of her mouth.
Starved of oxygen, her mind went completely blank, and she nodded frantically.
“What a pity. I do not particularly feel like listening to you today.”
The corners of Lucius’s eyes flushed red, like red wine slowly bleeding into a glass of clear water.
“Do not worry. I will not make you cry today.”
What on earth was that supposed to mean?
The next moment, before she could even parse his words, his lips overlapped hers, sweeping away the saliva she hadn’t been able to swallow as it trailed down her chin.
“…!”
The instant their lips met, Celia’s eyes went wide.
Her heart reacted a beat too late, sending a violent ripple through her entire body. The knuckles of the hand gripping his shoulder turned white with tension. Her breath hitched, and her reason was instantly swallowed by raw sensation.
Lucius dug deeper between her parted lips. His hand stroked her back with a gentle touch, as if soothing her rigid body. The moment she gasped for air, he invaded even further.
“Ngh, ah…”
An overwhelming sensation swept through her. All thought paralyzed, her mind grew entirely consumed by the feeling of their heat melting together.
Lucius entangled himself with her, entirely unbothered by her squirming attempts to push him away. Twisting his fingers into the nape of her neck to keep her still, he forced her to take all of him. Her breath and her saliva were utterly surrendered to him.
The hands shackling her body, the intense gaze making her vision blink in and out.
“Ah, mmph…!”
A kiss.
An actual kiss.
To think that she and Lucius were engaging in such a depraved, disgusting act!
Celia’s hands slipped from his shoulders time and time again. Each time, he caught her arms and draped them around his own neck.
“You need to breathe.”
Supporting her weight firmly, he pulled his lips away for a brief moment, granting her a shred of mercy. Though it lasted only a fraction of a second.
“Ah!”
The lips that had parted for a mere heartbeat began to ravage her even more fiercely than before. As he bit her lip and slid inside, a tight coil wound up deep in her abdomen. He plunged deep, coaxing her along as she clumsily tried to keep up, as if teaching her exactly how it was done. Soon, a wet, obscene sound filled the space between them.
What is happening?
Her thoughts scattered. With a fractured mind, she had to fight just to comprehend the present reality.
I have to… I have to reject him.
“Mmh…!”
But the rushing tide of sweet pleasure plugged her mouth, and her futile resistance was easily captured by his hands. A thrilling sensation raced up her spine. A chilling ecstasy seeped into the very marrow of her bones.
The fact that an act that should have been repulsive was bringing her sweetness drove her mad. Her body was responding, even though she knew exactly who she was kissing, and even though she wasn’t drunk enough to mistake him for anyone else.
“Haah…,”
As her rigid body began to melt, the corners of Lucius’s eyes crinkled. He slid his hand beneath her floating waist, pinning his body flush against hers. She was completely crushed against his solid chest.
Driven by the inevitable friction, Celia’s mind began to tangle into a white fog. It was as if the very concept of thought had vanished. Every logical thread lost its shape, like sugar dissolving in boiling water. Fragments of words that couldn’t form sentences collided chaotically, blurring the boundary between reason and sensation.
“Mmph, nngh… ha.”
Swallowing her breath, Lucius’s deep, penetrating movements bordered on violence.
“Open wider, and accept me.”
“Ngh… ugh!”
When his delicate fingertips, which had been softly massaging the back of her head, dug into her scalp, a shiver ran through her entire body. The pale silver hair gripped in his large hand possessed a flavor that felt somehow pure and noble.
Soon, he pulled away. A thin, transparent thread of saliva stretched long between them.
“Beautiful.”
However, at his subsequent words, Celia felt her scattered reason snap back into place.
“Wait a moment.”
Lucius stood up, reaching down to wipe the saliva smearing her lips. He tidied her hair where it lay disheveled across the bed, then helped her collapsed body up into a proper sitting position. Her rode-up dress was pulled back down below her knees, and after glancing at her crumpled bodice, he draped the blanket over her body.
Having tended to her as if concluding a very simple task, Lucius turned his head toward the door.
As if on cue, someone knocked.
Knock, knock, knock—
“Young Master.”
At the voice of an unfamiliar servant, Celia’s neck shrank back. Lucius stroked the nape of her neck one last time before stepping down from the bed. He walked over to the door and pulled it open.
Though she couldn’t see the person outside because Lucius was blocking the view, she could hear the conversation.
“The carriage is ready. Shall we depart immediately?”
“Hmm…”
Leaning obliquely against the doorframe, he crossed his arms.
Celia, pale with shock and oblivious to whatever he was contemplating, screamed at his back.
“We’re leaving right now!”
This was insane. He was insane, and so was she.
How could this happen? How could she have allowed that?
The pride she had meticulously built up over the years collapsed like a mountain. Her firmly established vanity, and the dignity she had stacked on top of it, shattered in an instant, scattering like dust.
No matter how absent his memories were, he was still Lucius Windmere.
Lucius looked over his shoulder at Celia, who had pulled the blanket all the way up to her chin. Soon, he gripped the door that was about to swing wider and nodded.
“We will leave immediately.”
Celia clutched the blanket, trembling like a piece of paper right before it catches fire. It was just one unbelievable situation after another.
The sunlight beyond the window was warm.
The rays filtered through the thin lace curtains, leaving fractured, glass-like patterns on the floor. Splinters of light floated lazily in the air, swaying alongside the shadows like a faint, rhythmic breath.
“Milady, shall I bring more dessert?”
“……No, that’s enough.”
Celia was leaning against the chaise longue with her eyes half-closed. Whenever she turned her head toward the window, the sunlight caught on her eyelashes.
As a shaft of light flared across her eyes, she frowned and bolted upright.
“Damn it.”
At the words spat through her gnaddened lips, Anne, who had been approaching to brush her hair, quietly took a step back. Because the clever Anne receded into the background like a wall ornament, Celia was able to take a deep, stabilizing breath.
Though it didn’t take long before she buried her face in her hands and dropped her head.
What on earth was I thinking?
The moment she had returned home, Celia had abandoned Lucius and fled straight to her room. With a torrent of words swirling in her mouth, she had mindlessly hurled curses at him. This was all Lucius’s fault.
“Um, Milady.”
“Yes?”
If a maid hadn’t approached her just then, Celia would likely have recited at least three volumes worth of curses dedicated to his name.
“This…”
Lily, who had sought Celia out while avoiding the eyes of the Windmere household staff, handed something over.
Celia, who had been sitting half-vacantly, checked the item in her hand—and her eyes widened.
