A Butterfly Through the Mist - Chapter 114

They were days of utter debauchery, in which night and day, restraint and shame were all forgotten.

Ilex and Tilia clung to each other as though the two of them were the only ones left in the world, as though the only act left in existence was to copulate.

The passage of time held no meaning. Enveloped by the madness of lust, the man and woman sought nothing but pleasure.

Tongue to tongue, arm to leg, manhood to womanhood—once they touched, they showed no sign of parting. It was a lewd sight so obscene, even a succubus sent to drain their life force might stick out her tongue and flee through the window.

Of course, the more aggressive one throughout it all was Ilex.

He was so reluctant to let Tilia fall asleep from exhaustion that when she eventually passed out as if fainting, he would lie beside her, quietly watching with anticipation, as though waiting for his woman to wake up.

Watching Tilia sleep soundly, unlike the fervor of when they were entangled, he hardly even dared to touch her.

The only places he allowed himself to touch were the ends of her soft black hair, or perhaps the chain of the butterfly ring that had dazzled him during their acts.

Even then, Ilex would reach out cautiously, holding his breath for fear of waking her.

What had started as an act to soothe his unrelenting lust soon became something he genuinely enjoyed.

And understandably so—this was the first time he had ever seen Tilia sleep so defenselessly.

The woman, worn out, seemed to escape into sleep like a child, breathing softly as if in a lullaby. Listening to that steady breath, Ilex felt a satisfaction nearly as tight as the moment he climaxed inside her.

Tilia was asleep beside me, having let down every guard. Tilia, before me, had lowered every thorn on her body and closed her eyes in peace.

That truth alone made waiting for her to wake feel utterly blissful.

Tilia Ambrose—sleeping soundly in the knowledge that no one could harm her.

That was a sight Ilex had always dreamed of.

***

Splash. The clear sound of water from afar woke Tilia from her submerged consciousness.

‘Where… is this…’

With a dazed look, not yet fully risen to the surface of awareness, Tilia stared ahead.

The first thing she saw was steam gently rising in clouds. Then, the four legs submerged in a large bathtub, and a broad hand filled with transparent water…

“You’re awake?”

It wasn’t until she felt warm water being poured over her shoulder that Tilia realized she was in the bathtub, held in Ilex’s arms. That he had carried her half-unconscious body into the bath to wash her.

“Just lie still. I’ll wash you.”

The man sitting behind her pulled her soft belly closer to him.

Ugh. But when she tried to relax and lean her weight back as told, she stiffened upright at the distinct sensation of a madman’s erection pressing against her from behind.

As if puzzled by her reaction, he glanced down at her briefly before smirking.

“Not going in. Not going in.”

He said offhandedly as he pulled her body even more securely toward him. Though Tilia had flinched at the obscene thing that refused to die, she gradually relaxed under the feel of his unselfish hands pouring water over her.

Haa… Her body, worn out from constant torment, soaked in water at just the right temperature, melted like cotton candy. Tilia, feeling the sore muscles screaming in dull protest, slowly leaned back against the man behind her.

“…You’re bruised.”

Ilex, who had been gently massaging various parts of her body, murmured in a subdued voice. Tilia, blankly gazing through the bathroom window at the greenery beyond, only then looked down at herself.

He was right. Pale skin was marked with bruises in several places.

And not just bruises. Her chest was covered in red blotches—evidence of Ilex’s obsessive imprinting.

“I thought I was controlling my strength.” Muttering irritably as if annoyed, he sighed while gently brushing the bruises near her slender thigh.

“I’ll call a priest.”

“No need.”

Her reply was almost reflexive. Surprised by her own words, Tilia’s eyes widened slightly, then curved into a faint, bitter smile as she realized the feelings she had long hidden from herself.

Hearing the roughness in her voice, Ilex reached for the glass of water set on the side table by the tub. Bringing it to her dry lips, he watched her swallow slowly before setting the glass down and finally asking.

“Why not call the priest?”

“…Just because.”

At her answer, Ilex stared straight at Tilia. His expression made it clear he knew that her “just because” didn’t mean nothing at all.

Under the gaze that demanded the real answer, Tilia opened and closed her lips several times before speaking in a small voice.

“Just… I think I’d like the marks to remain.”

More precisely, she didn’t want the marks to disappear.

Though it was a truth she had never even admitted to herself, Tilia disliked priests. More precisely, she disliked the healing they performed.

Because it was the same as saying some part of her had been injured or broken.

Whenever those arrogant clergymen crossed the threshold of the Ambrose house, she had always been hurt. Bruised from beatings, torn, or with broken bones.

There was only one reason the Baron of Ambrose assigned a priest to his daughter.

To erase the wounds.

Baron Ambrose wanted Tilia to always maintain the pristine marketability of something brand-new. When presented before others, he wanted her to appear unblemished and flawless.

And so, Tilia had no choice but to completely erase every trace of violence and submission left on her body.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much.”

But what Ilex had left behind wasn’t a wound. He wasn’t someone who had broken her.

What remained in her now wasn’t a scar that needed to be erased—it was just a trace.

A mark left behind simply because his vast love and desire had spilled over, unable to be fully contained.

So there was no need to erase it. This wasn’t a wound. This wasn’t a flaw. And more than anything else…

“Just leave it.”

Because now, she was no longer someone who needed to be “brand-new.”

Tilia, who had no intention of detailing all the long-winded reasons behind her feelings, tried to persuade him with just those simple words.

But when she slightly turned her head to glance at the man behind her, Tilia realized she had made a grave mistake.

“Wh-why…”

There were times when Ilex, in the middle of sex, would suddenly become aroused to an incomprehensible degree.

She had seen him climax from meaningless touches or insignificant words.

But none of that had ever caught her so off guard as this.

Tilia trembled with fear at the sight of him, eyes now completely glazed over.

“Why… are you looking at me like that…”

She felt the large cock pressing against her hip give a strong twitch. In that moment, Tilia tried to lift her trembling legs and escape from the bathtub.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

But as always, his hand was faster.

He grabbed her supple waist and pulled her down—and in the next instant, he shoved his fully aroused cock, like a javelin, into Tilia’s cunt.

“Haa…!”

After such fierce and unrelenting sex, her insides were already fully conditioned to him.

The inner walls, soaked with the semen he had poured in multiple times, easily swallowed even the sudden intrusion of his thick length without much resistance.

“You drive me mad, and then, ha, try to run?”

“A-ah, hngh, y-you s-said… you w-wouldn’t… put it in…”

“How could I not put it in? After you said… ha… something so sweet?”

As if trying to adjust her position, Ilex grabbed the waist of the woman now seated on top of his cock and gave her a few small bounces.

Hhh… Ahhk.

Each time, Tilia’s shoulders trembled and her head tilted back as his length plunged deeply into her.

As he wetly sucked on the rim of her ear, Ilex let out a faint, breathy laugh.

“You want to keep my marks?”

She hadn’t said it quite like that.

Tilia wanted to retort, but she couldn’t get the words out—because the hand that reached from behind had grabbed her breast tightly, and instead of a protest, only a moan escaped her lips.

Her wet breasts squished and spread in every direction under his large hand.

“Hnnngh, ah, don’t… don’t pinch my nipples…”

“Tilia, you really are… too much.”

“Hngh, ahng…!”

“You already know… I’m completely enchanted by you. And still, you, haa, do this again…”

That was the last coherent thing said between them.

While scraping her nipple with his nails, he grabbed her pelvis and began thrusting upward from below.

The hot water that filled the tub couldn’t withstand what was happening below the surface and began to ripple and splash.

Swaa, swaa.

Soon, the water overflowed, spilling onto the floor in great waves.

“Hah, aah, aah—!”

But the man and woman who caused a quake beneath the peaceful bathwater couldn’t care less about the vanishing water, lost entirely in the act of devouring each other.