The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 78

“What’s wrong?”

Islay asked calmly. On a night unusually quiet after the chaos in the castle had subsided, his voice was low, like something resting at the bottom of the sea.

Stella caressed the nape of Islay’s neck with her fingertips, remaining silent for a moment.

Why had that moment suddenly come to mind? The day the horde of monsters invaded the city, and she thought her death was certain. The moment when Islay, who had split the monster threatening her in two, appeared strangely similar to it.

He was the man who always appeared in the nick of time to save her. She should only feel gratitude and affection for him, so why did she keep sensing the shadow of that terrifying being in him? And the dark energy that had shimmered around his neck just now…

“Estella.”

As the silence stretched on, he pressed his lips to the side of her plump breast. Startled, Stella’s scattered thoughts shattered like glass. The teasing kisses continued, making her exhale deeply.

‘…What am I even thinking?’

Islay lifted his head, locking eyes with her as he toyed with her chest playfully in his mouth. His chiseled, sculpture-like face wore a relaxed smile—a look one might show only to someone they truly loved.

How could she associate such a man with the shadow of a monster? The writhing veins, snake-like in their movement, must have been a trick of her mind.

“It’s nothing.”

“Is it really nothing? If you’re not in the mood, we can call it a night.”

The voice that followed his attempt to draw her attention back was gentle. Stella let out a small laugh, knowing that every second of their time together was as precious as gold. She had no intention of simply falling asleep.

“No, I want to continue.”

“What exactly do you want to continue?”

“This…”

Feigning ignorance, he teased her, prompting Stella to falter in her response. Was there any other term for what she wanted but to keep receiving his kisses?

Suddenly struck by an idea, she groaned softly and propped herself up slightly, leaving her chest exposed as her disheveled clothes fell away.

“Islay.”

“Yes?”

“Would it be alright if I pleased you tonight?”

The hand caressing her thigh beneath the folds of her dress abruptly halted. Stella, emboldened, reached for the waistband of his trousers.

“No, don’t.”

Her courage met an immediate rejection. Feeling stubborn, Stella insistently tugged at his clothing, determined to conquer the man who had never let her explore beyond his lips. Tonight, she would break that boundary.

“I’m always the one receiving. I want to do something for you.”

“That’s enough. Just lying there quietly is all I need, so let go of your hand…”

“That’s just what you think. Why won’t you let me?”

As she grumbled, his lips interrupted her with a kiss, cutting off her words. Undeterred, Stella posed another question.

“I’ve already seen all of you. Are you embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think I’d be embarrassed about getting hard and aroused in front of you?”

At his blunt remark, Stella inhaled sharply, like someone hiccupping. Yet she refused to back down, boldly nodding her head.

After a brief silence, Islay’s lips curled into a subtle smile. Then, crossing his arms, he pulled off his top and tossed it aside carelessly, letting it fall off the bed.

Stella swallowed dryly. His powerful, muscular body radiated heat. From his thick, erect manhood, already standing proud against his lower abdomen, clear fluid trickled steadily down.

Even though she’d seen it several times before, its almost weapon-like size left her inevitably daunted. But her hesitation only lasted a moment before she slowly reached out to touch him. She wanted to grasp the tangible evidence of his desire with her own hands.

Islay caught her wrist with a firm snap.

“Do it yourself.”

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to please me?”

As if to confirm that she hadn’t misheard, he continued speaking gently. It was a smooth voice that sounded almost chilling.

“That’s why I was going to touch you…”

“Not me. I want to watch you touch yourself.”

“……”

“You know how to, don’t you? Touch yourself, Estella.”

Islay’s hand brushed casually between her spread legs, over the fabric of her undergarments. Even through the thin barrier, her sensitive body quivered at the contact.

Stella thought that, even though they hadn’t gone all the way, she had a decent understanding of what happened in bed by now.

However, the request for her to touch herself with her own hands made her cheeks flush red on their own. And in front of Islay, no less?

This was on a completely different level from simply lying still and accepting the caresses he bestowed upon her. Moreover, due to the upbringing that taught her to regard chastity as a treasure beyond compare, she had never once touched her own body before.

Regardless of what she thought, Islay stripped away the rest of her disheveled dress and underwear. The man and woman, now fully naked, locked eyes, their gaze lingering heavily.

“Spread your legs. Let me see everything, even your lower hole.”

Stella, her chest rising and falling heavily, slowly parted her thighs. Meeting his sliding gaze, she brought her hand to her damp lower region before he could make another demand. Her desire to drag him into the depths of pleasure outweighed her embarrassment.

She tentatively rubbed the exposed flesh, gathering her fingertips and rolling them in circles, mimicking the way he had done before, as she stimulated her sensitive spot. Islay let out a ragged breath, visibly aroused by the sight alone.

“Ah, ah…”

The soft moan escaped her lips as the pleasure built within her. Though she was acutely aware of how wanton she must look in his eyes, she couldn’t stop her hands from moving.

Islay, watching her intently, stroked his shaft with a deliberate pace. As Stella’s breaths quickened, his arm flexed with the rhythm, veins bulging as he mirrored her growing intensity. The wet sounds of her arousal and their labored breathing filled the room, each feeding the other’s excitement.

Islay’s heated gaze swept over her flushed neck, heaving chest, and trembling abdomen before landing on the glistening core of her desire. As his eyes locked on her, Stella reached her peak, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“Ah…”

Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, and sticky fluids trickled down between the cleft of her buttocks. Stella spread her legs wider with her own hands, exposing her intimate area without reserve. She surrendered to the shivers wrapping her body from head to toe, her lower abdomen twitching involuntarily.

“Ah, mmh, Islay…”

The desperate sound of her voice escaped her lips without her will. Even though she had finally tasted ecstasy, the unquenchable flames of her desire did not subside.

A reckless exhilaration, wanting him to handle her as he pleased, surged like a wildfire within her.

Even with the overwhelming pleasure shaking her to her core, if there was a limit to this feeling, she wanted him to cross that line, to trample over it and push her beyond her limits to the very edge.

“Ah, please, put it inside…”

The plea slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself. Islay’s eyes momentarily flashed with a glint.

Stella, trembling in the aftershocks of her climax, swallowed the words that followed too late. Her fingers, clutching the sheets tightly, quivered slightly. She felt a flush of shame at how she had crumbled under her desires, unable to discern what truly mattered.

Breathing heavily, Islay released himself onto her lower abdomen. His hot seed shot out in streams, splattering onto her chest and even reaching the tip of her chin. Stella looked up at him, panting, unable to hide the desperate longing in her gaze.

When he pulled her into his arms, their bodies, drenched in fluids, pressed against each other. Despite having shared acts of unimaginable intimacy, Islay never entered her. Slowly blinking, Stella wrapped her arms tightly around his sweat-soaked shoulders, holding him as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

***

Far from the Ice Castle, deep in the misty forest, a group of men camouflaged in black stood silently, their movements stealthy as they kept watch.

Unlike the naturally large and rugged Northerners, these men had a slightly different appearance. Yet their ability to conceal themselves and remain vigilant was equally impressive.

One soldier stepped carefully around an overgrown bush, approaching a man seated on a tree stump and reading a letter.

“Your Highness.”

The man, who had been reading by the faint moonlight, turned his head at the call. His golden hair, as radiant as if the brightest starlight in the night sky had been carefully sprinkled over it, swayed with his movement.

“The scouts are returning. They should arrive within thirty minutes.”

“As expected, infiltration was too difficult. Were there any injuries?”

“No, fortunately, there were only minor scratches and no severe injuries.”

“That’s one piece of good news…”

The man exhaled softly, his expression one of quiet relief. His golden hair, combined with his gentle voice and elegant features, gave him an almost ethereal quality.

If not for the scars marking his exposed skin—on his left cheek, earlobe, neck, and fingers—he would have seemed like a royalty untouched by hardship.