Winter Bud - Chapter 1

The Emperor was like a beast. It was the first time she had ever felt that a person’s breathing, that is, the sound of their throat, resembled a growl. But when the Emperor truly embraced Nanna, when he roughly stirred her narrow passage and moved his hips, he was truly like a beast. No. Perhaps it was because it was her that he held her that way. To the Emperor, Nanna was a woman who didn’t deserve to be respected as a person.

He often called Nanna a “female.” Sometimes he would even point with his finger and call her a “womb.” In other words, Nanna was the womb owned by the Emperor. That was why it didn’t matter how he embraced her. Without even a trace of gentleness…. He would think there was no reason to show tolerance or kindness.

Nanna didn’t care anymore. In the past, she used to cry silently, hurt, but now she had grown used to it. Perhaps she’d developed resilience to recover. It wasn’t that she didn’t get hurt, but that even when she did, she recovered quickly. Still….

“Ah, hhhk!”

The hand gripping her hair was indifferent. There was no malice in it. He simply grabbed her hair as he always did. The Emperor often did that. In bed… he was crude and brutal.

He was like an uneducated ruffian, and so Nanna often felt as if she had become a street prostitute. Given the circumstances, it was no wonder that unwanted memories of her past would bubble up to the surface.

“Ugh, haa, uh!”

The hands that once seemed refined now gripped her slender waist roughly. Her breath trembled sharply. Or more precisely, it was her chest. Her lungs, perhaps. She clenched her lips tightly and swallowed back the tears that formed purely from the body’s reaction.

He pressed Nanna’s head into the pillow. It seemed he didn’t want to see her face. Nanna understood. He had never wanted to look at her face during sex.

Nanna wanted to ask him to at least turn off the lights, but the Emperor never granted any of her requests. No matter how reasonable they were, if it was something Nanna needed, something that would benefit her, he would shake his head right away.

Once, she felt so wronged that she resented it bitterly, but as time passed, she thought she could endure it. However, this torturous sex was something she never got used to, no matter how much time passed. Nanna felt the man’s breath as he forcefully thrust into her. He lowered his upper body, covering her with his muscular back.

He truly was a man like a beast. A man who had roamed battlefields since boyhood. His rugged body was covered in mottled scars, hanging on him like countless medals. Once, when he was called a war hero, Stateira had caressed those scars carefully. Even now, though they had healed, the remnants of those wounds, which spoke of the horrors of those times, were scattered all over his massive body.

“Hh, ha, uh….”

The rod-like tip stabbed deep as if it would reach the entrance of her womb. It wasn’t insertion so much as stabbing.

Nanna pressed her chest against the bed and gripped the pillowcase tightly. Because of the man pressing down on her head, it was hard to breathe. Like a fish gasping, she opened and closed her lips, waiting for the Emperor to climax quickly.

Holding her hips up high and panting like that, she felt cramps coming from the uncomfortable posture.

“Ah, hhhk, uhh….”

Even as she bit her lips, moans leaked out. They weren’t moans of pleasure but of pain. The Emperor seemed to enjoy that. That Nanna was in pain.

Perhaps more aroused now, he released her hair and gripped her hips. She thought he would speed up, but instead, he moved leisurely in and out of her tight insides. The act, devoid of any pleasure, was torture, but Nanna didn’t cry.

“Mm, haa… Ah, it hurts. It hu… ah!”

No matter how much he thrust, no fluids came. Perhaps it was because she was consumed entirely by fear, with no room for pleasure. Just as she thought the organ pushing through her dry passage was like a weapon, he bit her shoulder. Nanna reflexively let out a sharp scream. Trembling, gasping, he chewed at her skin.

It wasn’t a gesture of marking a lover’s body with affection. It was truly to wound her… as if he was biting to hurt Nanna. No. It would be right to say he was mauling her. At last, Nanna burst into tears.

While her scalp throbbed, her shoulder was bitten too, and she lost her senses. She broke out in a cold sweat and called him, “Your Majesty.” The Emperor was reckless. He grabbed Nanna, whose body was half his size, and turned her over. She looked at him weakly.

As dawn had not yet broken, his outline was unclear. A man cloaked in bluish darkness looked down at her. Nanna quickly lowered her eyes, afraid their gazes would meet. The Emperor disliked Nanna.

So he hated making eye contact with her, and even just her presence beside him repulsed him. Not simply dislike, but contempt and hatred. At times, even disgust, treating her as filthy. Not once had there been a kind word or a tender glance. Just as much warmth as he had shown Stateira, with equal measure and intensity, he hated and sought to humiliate her.

So his sexual acts with Nanna were insults to her. If one considered her existence, it might be said she was merely fulfilling her use, but each time he had sex, it was as if he was teaching her place. Suddenly, her nose tingled, and something seemed to flow.

Warm and sticky…. She soon realized what it was. Passing over her philtrum, covering her upper lip, pooling between her tightly closed lips, it was salty and fishy. Nanna quickly wiped under her nose and inhaled. As she cautiously raised her body, watching the Emperor, a large hand pressed her shoulder hard. Nanna flinched in surprise.

As she drew her shoulders together and looked at him with frightened eyes, the hand that had pushed her shoulder now gripped her pelvis. Her legs spread apart, as if by habit. In her groin, soaked with semen already ejaculated once, his dark shaft rubbed.

“Hhh….”

Nanna let out a long sob but bit down on her lower lip. She squeezed her tearful eyes shut and pressed her head to the pillow. The rounded tip tapped against her labia, then pushed into the stinging hole.

“Mm, haa….”

She looked at the ceiling. Staring blankly at the ceiling covered in dawn’s darkness, she felt a large hand clutch her breast. Her pointed nipple flattened under his palm as her legs hooked over his waist. He held Nanna in his arms. No, it would be right to say he crushed her with his heavy body. Nanna dared not wrap her arms around his broad back with her bloodstained hands, so she let them fall awkwardly.

“Hhh, mm, ah, ugh!”

With eyes squeezed shut, she surrendered to the jolting sensation. His hard chest muscles flattened her ample breasts, their breaths tangling. To spare the man who loathed her, she quietly turned her head away, but his rough hand gripped her cheek. Nanna swallowed down the wretched feeling and shed tears.

“When… when will it end?”

She had resolved never to ask anything. To swallow any words. Yet her lips moved on their own. She only hoped the trembling whisper buried in sobs wouldn’t reach the Emperor, but from the start, he was too close. Ensnared by a nameless fear, Nanna glanced at him.

“…When I want it to.”

His subdued baritone was decisive. Nanna cast him a sorrowful glance, then pressed both hands to her chest. The indifferent whisper spun endlessly in her mind.