I’m Trapped in a Bloody Reverse Harem Game - Chapter 150

I twisted my body at the sensation of something like sleep paralysis. It felt like someone was pressing down on me, sitting on my waist. I kept groaning in an effort to stay asleep, but unable to bear the weight, I opened my eyes.

“Dion, what are you doing on top of me…?”

Dion was straddling my waist, looking down at me. The heavy weight pressing on my waist made it difficult to move. He held one of my shoulders down with one hand while slowly undoing the buttons of my clothes with the other.

You said you wouldn’t touch me while I was logged into the game—so why are you trying to undress me?

His blue eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me. His gaze seemed mocking, or perhaps condescending.

But… is this the game, or reality?

“Sir Dion? Dion?”

Had I logged out in my sleep while playing the game? If this is the Dion from the game, he would never treat me like this, right? No—if this is reality, even then, his expression seems strange.

“Dion… It’s really you, right?”

“I said I’d kill any man whose name came out of your mouth, but still…”

Huh? What is he even saying right now?

Dion showed no signs of moving aside and just kept muttering strange things.

“What? Are you trying to copy Orias now? Anyway, you’re heavy—can you get off?”

“Get off? You dare tell me to get off?”

“Ugh, seriously, I don’t get what you’re saying. Just move already…”

I raised my hand to push away the one holding my shoulder. But suddenly, as if something was restraining me, my arm returned to its original position.

<Event “Past of the Wraith” in progress>

Ah, I’m still in the game. I didn’t even realize an event had started. Did it begin while I was asleep?

Seeing the system message appear in front of Dion’s face, I relaxed and began to think calmly.

No wonder his eyes looked so vile—nothing like Dion’s usual self. Dion never gives me that kind of scornful look before we get intimate.

If it were Dietrich, maybe—but Dion always looks like he’s about to go mad from how much he loves me. I find it embarrassing when he looks at me like that, but not nearly as embarrassing as Dion himself.

I still remember the night when, even after several rounds, Dion wouldn’t back down, and I held a mirror up to his face just to make him look at himself. When he saw his expression, he was so mortified that he jumped out of bed.

Since then, I’ve sometimes teased him by showing him the mirror when he looks at me like that.

Ah, that was fun. I should do it again when I get out of the game.

Thinking carefreely, I moved my body as the system guided.

My body, pinned beneath Dion’s, twisted this way and that. It seemed to be another case like when I witnessed Haniel’s past.

Things should return to normal after some time.

That’s what I thought, but when I looked up at Dion’s face, my eyes widened. It’s one thing for me—but what about Dion?

“You still haven’t given up, have you?”

“Please let me go. I… I can’t do this with you, my lord…”

“If you want that bastard to leave my estate alive, then keep your mouth shut.”

Dion spoke in a cold tone, then blinked. His voice was harsh, but his eyes were strangely innocent.

The intensity in his gaze faded. Dion, with a bewildered expression, moved his body as though following someone else’s will.

‘Why am I doing this?’

His eyes seemed to ask that very question.

Unlike me, who was used to watching from an immobile body, Dion was visibly shaken by the fact that his own body wouldn’t obey him.

So this event involves not just me but Dion as well.

Seeing Dion’s flustered expression calmed me down. Just as I thought—having someone more panicked than me helps me stay composed.

“One week from now. When we’re married, you’ll officially become my wife!”

I felt like I had finally discovered the cause of the strange phenomenon at Dion’s estate. We were reenacting the “Past of the Wraith,” and the role I had taken on must have held a grudge against the one Dion was playing.

It seemed Dion was acting the part of a previous head of the family.

He raised his voice, speaking overbearingly, and his expression clearly screamed that he wanted to slap himself.

But his body, unsatisfied with just undressing himself, now reached for my clothes as well.

I tried to push him away with my arms as if to escape, but he effortlessly blocked the motion.

“M-my Lord. I-I don’t want this. I’m scared…”

“It’s not your first time. What’s there to be scared of? Oh, right. You’re scared of me.”

“N-no, it hurts. I said it hurts…”

I stammered.

Dion’s eyes twisted with anguish at my words. He looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but of course he couldn’t.

Unlike me, who had resigned myself and simply went along with the system’s control, Dion’s lips trembled each time he tried to speak. Despite the way his lips quivered, his voice remained eerily flat.

When I spoke through tears, the Dion under the system’s control seemed to hesitate. He stopped undoing my collar, and the large hand resting on my chest hesitated as if comforting me.

“…It won’t hurt tonight.”

He tried to console me clumsily, then added threateningly, “As long as you don’t say you want to leave me.”

As I watched Dion, who was frantically darting his eyes while placing a hand on my chest, I found myself once again admiring his face and body.

I’d forgotten because he always adjusted to me, but he was, after all, a knight who used his body as a weapon. Seeing him like this, he looked quite threatening.

His bare chest, revealed after taking off his top, was firm. His abs were tightly packed without an ounce of fat, and the deeply tanned skin looked good. Like Ardal, knights did have a unique atmosphere.

And I liked that atmosphere.

The kind of man who pushes his body to its limits, endures everything through training, yet can’t hold back his desire and releases it in front of me.

Maybe I had longed to see that side of a knight ever since I met Ardal during his training as a child. Perhaps the reason I was drawn to knights in the first place was actually because of Ardal?

“Saintess. Run—run away now…”

Oh?

As I was admiring Dion’s face and body, he urgently spoke.

Did he regain control of his body? Impressive.

Though Dion’s real voice didn’t last long and quickly returned to normal, it was impressive. Once he lost control again, Dion skillfully began to caress me.

“Mmng…”

Contrary to his earlier threatening tone, his touch was rather gentle. He slowly stroked my waist and cautiously cupped my breast. As he kneaded it until the nipple hardened, he lowered his head.

“Ah…”

I tilted my head back with a languid breath. When Dion’s tongue brushed over the now-stiff nipple, a jolt of pleasure ran down my spine.

Having somehow slipped between my legs, Dion rubbed my thigh softly while burying his face in my chest.

“You never, ever make the first move toward me.”

“L-Lord… ngh.”

“Yet when I touch you, you cry and spread your legs like this.”

The hand that had been caressing my thigh slid between my legs. I could feel the hesitation in his touch as he groped my mound over my underwear.

The bold hand now faltered.

“…Saintess, please run away.”

With trembling hands, Dion pushed aside my underwear as he spoke. The inside had been damp since he bit my breast earlier. When his calloused, rough fingers pressed against my clit, I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

Maybe it was because Dion was fighting to regain control of his body—his shaking fingertips made the stimulation even sharper.

“Ahh!”

Whenever his thick fingers pinched and rubbed my clit, squelching noises filled the room. As my moans grew louder, nearing sobs, Dion’s movements quickened.

“Hnng, aah, my lord…!”

As I arched my back and grabbed at the bed sheets, Dion pressed my lifted hips back down against the mattress.

“Wait. I need to check if you’re wet enough.”

“Mmh, ngh…”

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Just wait.”

Holding my waist in place, he pushed a middle finger into the twitching entrance of my core. He slid it in deeply, up to the third joint, then moved it slowly, as if examining me.

“S-Stop… it hurts!”

“Don’t be a baby. That’s just one finger.”

“It—it hurts! I said it hurts!”

Though the pleasure outweighed the pain, I cried and shouted.

I could feel the emotion of the person moving my body. She didn’t want to be intimate with the lord this way.

She didn’t want a forced encounter—she wanted to talk slowly, at her own pace.

Even though she was enduring this, it didn’t seem like she hated the lord. Maybe there had been some misunderstanding between them?

I panted, caught up in thought.

“Haaagh!”

But before I could think further, Dion shoved in another finger and snapped me out of it.

My thighs, spread wide, trembled as I collapsed limp onto the bed.

“See? You’re enjoying it.” Dion smirked as he moved his fingers.

Ugh, doing that with Dion’s face makes it even weirder. I can’t get used to it.

While I was reeling from Dion’s smile—so different from his usual self—his fingers bent inside me, rubbing against the inner walls. His index and middle fingers pumped upward, pressing my inner walls.

“S-stop… stooop!”

The squelching, wet noises grew louder. Dion’s forearm muscles tightened. Every time his fingers thrust in deeply, I cried out, moaning like a scream. My vision flashed white.

Through my blurred sight, I briefly caught Dion’s guilt-ridden gaze as he looked down at me.

“Hhhn, nngh…”

Even so, Dion’s fingers continued to pound against my inner walls. The fluids dripping from my core trickled down to my bottom, soaking the sheets beneath.

“Ngh… ahh!”

Every time he pushed his fingers upward, my clit slapped against his palm with a sticky sound. Just from Dion’s fingers alone, I hit a long, drawn-out climax and went limp.

“Hah, haa…”

As I clenched around his fingers and trembled, Dion pulled them out without hesitation. The wet sound that followed as his packed fingers withdrew was obscene.

“I’ve loosened you up this much. You better not say it hurts.”

He wiped the slick from his hand onto my stomach with a cynical tone. Shaking from the aftershocks of orgasm, I shut my eyes tightly and turned away when I felt Dion’s damp hand press against my thigh.

The situation where Dion and I were being moved beyond our will hadn’t ended yet.

What worried me now was whether Dion could endure what came next.

If he tried something drastic like castrating himself again… how was I going to stop him?