Odalisque - Side Story 9

Even after ejaculating once, the girth of his shaft left no room for gaps where they were connected. Yet Dimus moved his fingers slowly as if trying to find a place to push deeper.

Liv, who was lying languidly, was startled and raised her head at the sensation of his fingers trying to force their way in, despite the already tight space.

“…Wait a moment…!”

“You said you liked it.”

Dimus didn’t stop teasing her even after seeing her shocked expression. It was rare for Liv, who had grown accustomed to their lovemaking, to look flustered, and seeing her like this stirred something inside him even more.

“No, wait, Dimus…!”

“Why?”

“Your fingers, no…!”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

Liv’s eyes shook as Dimus persisted, creating a small gap with his fingers. Her trembling lips spilled out words in a rush.

“It won’t fit! I’ll tear! I’m scared!”

As if. The human body didn’t tear that easily. Besides, seeing how her entrance was already sucking his shaft in, it was clear she was prepared.

Dimus considered denying her words outright, but decided against it. He could push his fingers in if he wanted to, but seeing her genuinely scared killed his mood.

Instead, Dimus moved his hands, firmly supporting her thighs, and slowly withdrew his shaft.

The thick pillar that had once again grown fully hard slid out, grazing against her inner walls. The stimulation from the slow movement seemed to ease the tension in Liv’s rigid shoulders.

Seeing her body go limp, Dimus slid his long fingers back down. The entrance, which had just housed his shaft, had already closed up as if nothing had happened, though the sticky essence covering her opening was proof of their earlier activity.

“Now that I think about it, you do seem to like my hands.”

“What I like is… Ah…”

Dimus’ thick fingers parted her tender flesh. He couldn’t reach as deep as with his shaft, but the freedom with which he moved his fingers brought about a different kind of pleasure.

“Just rest a little longer, ugh!”

Inside, he felt something squishy. It wasn’t like the inner walls or her essence—it must have been his cum.

“Didn’t I say I would do my best to provide what you like?”

So now, he whispered that he would thrust his fingers in, as she liked, and smiled arrogantly.

Dimus was willing to give her anything she liked—anything that could make her swoon in pleasure.

***

During a long, sticky night, Dimus pushed thoughts of the canvas away.

However, it didn’t take long for that canvas—once almost forgotten—to resurface, its presence unmistakable. It all started when Liv’s outings grew excessively frequent.

Of course, ‘excessively’ was a highly subjective term for Dimus, as he barely left his estate compared to the average person. To him, even Liv had not previously seemed particularly fond of going out as often.

Thus, it was odd how frequently Liv had begun leaving the mansion.

The main reason for her outings seemed to be her meetings with Milion. According to the guard who escorted Liv, she did indeed meet with Milion. However, the guard was only responsible for accompanying her to the designated meeting location and waiting outside, so there was no way to know what the two talked about inside.

Should I assign someone to her again?

Of course, it wasn’t that Dimus doubted Liv. What could she possibly be doing with Milion? The only activities they could be engaging in were sharing tea, listening to that child’s endless chatter, and…

And… Damn it! That’s probably all they’re doing, yet why do they meet so often?

Outwardly, Dimus remained the same, appearing sarcastic and indifferent. Inside, though, his thoughts had flipped a thousand times over. In his head, he had long imagined storming the place where they met.

Had their meetings not taken place in the Pendance mansion, he would have turned that scenario into reality by now.

“Another outing?”

“Yes.”

“Have you taken up a new tutor position behind my back?”

“Of course not.”

Perhaps mistaking his comment for an awkward joke, Liv chuckled as she shook her head while preparing to leave. She was too busy getting ready to even look at him.

Liv, pressing a bonnet onto her head and tying the ribbon under her chin, suddenly looked back at Dimus, seemingly remembering something.

“…Um, I do go out a lot, don’t I?”

It seemed she had finally noticed his mood. There was a hint of unease in her large green eyes, blinking beneath the light brown bonnet embroidered with floral patterns. Her reddish-brown hair, styled in waves and hanging down, looked like a fox’s tail swishing back and forth.

…How could she look so lovely even now? Because of that, Dimus couldn’t bring himself to utter anything harsh, not even in jest.

Liv wasn’t the one at fault. The clueless Pendance child probably pestered her into meeting. So, swallowing his displeasure, Dimus answered briefly.

“Not really.”

Not wanting to reveal his discontent, Dimus bit down on an unlit cigar. Unfortunately, he had no justifiable reason to stop Liv’s outings.

He really should hurry up with the marriage oath and establish her as the marchioness. His mounting frustration shifted towards Eleonore, who had been delaying their witness signature.

Camille Eleonore—that bastard was the root of all problems. From the very beginning, he had been the cause of everything. That filthy scoundrel who had deceitfully used multiple aliases to hide Liv…

Surely Liv hadn’t learned anything nefarious from him? Like how to keep secrets from him, or how to set up a hidden retreat… Could her missing canvas be in that secret place?

“I’ll be back soon.”

Completely unaware of what was running through Dimus’ mind, Liv gave a casual promise to return early before turning away. Dimus watched her leave, chewing on the end of the unlit cigar.

Today again, she would meet Milion at the Pendance mansion.

Could there be a secret passage leading outside the Pendance mansion? One she used after dismissing the guard, slipping away through it…

Dimus, lost in these thoughts, laughed at himself.

“What an idiotic idea.”

Before meeting Liv, Dimus had never been an imaginative person. His creativity was sorely lacking. Yet when it came to Liv, even the tiniest sliver of possibility bloomed into endless scenarios.

He really had become a fool. Irritated, Dimus ran a hand through his hair, turning away.

“Philip, prepare the hunting grounds.”

***

It had been a while since Dimus had last taken in the metallic scent of blood.

It had been ages since he last visited Berryworth Mansion. After indulging in hunting and soaking in hot water to ease his exhaustion, he had time to leisurely stroll through the arboretum.

He reached the greenhouse, filled with the fresh scent of greenery and earthy undertones. The flowers blooming in season decorated the inside beautifully, and the air was thick with their scent.

Despite this, his blue eyes remained indifferent. Neither the beautiful flowers nor the sweet fragrance moved him.

Come to think of it, after Liv had escaped, I spent quite some time here.

Memories surfaced of waiting helplessly for news about Liv, sitting idly in this place. Though the situation was entirely different now, the helplessness and irritation felt similar to back then.

“Shall I prepare some refreshments?” Philip, trailing at a distance to serve him personally, cautiously spoke up.

Dimus, sitting on a bench, replied in a cold voice, “Forget it.”

Dimus never cared much for snacks. To be more precise, he derived little pleasure from eating. To him, food was something to be consumed out of necessity.

“Bring me some alcohol instead.”

It had been quite a while since he last had a drink. Not since finding Liv in Adelinde had he touched any alcohol—it had been quite some time.

As Philip went to prepare the drink, Dimus leaned back on the bench, closing his eyes. His relaxed posture exuded decadence and ease.

Dimus knew he was in a somewhat sensitive state.

He never noticed it when Liv was by his side, but her absence made his nerves stand on edge, almost unbearably so.

Although he had never shown it to Liv, the aftereffects, which had subsided for a while, began creeping back in with the increasing frequency of her outings. It wasn’t as if the scars ached or itched severely as before, but the sensation was still there, creeping in with an uncomfortable subtlety.

He never expected the symptoms to disappear overnight, not after having dealt with them for years. But only recently did he realize just how dependent he had grown on Liv.

Now, a new symptom seemed to have emerged, piled on top of the old.

An abnormal obsession with Liv. Paranoia, anxiety, delusions.

If this wasn’t a mental illness, what was?

To Dimus, this state of his was a genuine nuisance. It felt like carrying a loaded revolver without a safety mechanism, liable to fire off at the slightest mistake.