Waves of pleasure coursed through Victor's body, jolting him from his sleep like a warm whisper gliding across his skin. Still numb, he lowered his gaze and noticed his pants were down, exposing his already rigid member. A jade-white hand caressed him with slow, attentive movements, as if savoring every reaction.
He needed no more than a moment to understand.
He turned his head slowly and met Carmilla's slightly flushed face. A soft smile curved her lips as her eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Ah, you're awake. I noticed your 'little brother' was especially excited this morning… so I decided to help." She spoke calmly, even after spending hours having sex with Victor the night before.
"M-Madam… this happens every morning… no need to worry…" He said, seeing that he was getting harder and that she didn't seem to care. In fact, that mischievous smile only increased his erection.
"Everything's fine," she replied, her voice lower, her breathing a little irregular. "Like I said... you belong to me. It's my duty to take care of you."
Victor looked at her, "When did you say that?" he questioned.
"Between the 7th and 8th time you came inside me." She said smiling, "I think between the 12th and 13th too. I clearly remember my pussy gushing liters of cum while I screamed wildly."
'The marriage pact is really absurd...' he said looking at her, after all... just a few days ago she was quite arrogant, now... she was at his disposal. That possessive look was truly adorable.
Victor blushed as he tried to maintain his composure. Waves of pleasure came one after another, intense, but not as overwhelming as the first time. He already knew that feeling now. Clenching his teeth, he decided he could endure more.
As if reading his thoughts, Carmilla changed her strategy.
She gracefully bent her body with feline grace and slid down to his groin.
"Very well… today I'll show you something even better~"
With a calculated movement, she pulled the dress just enough to free her voluptuous breasts, supported by the fabric that provocatively lifted them. The pale skin contrasted with the pink nipples, already hardened by the morning air. It was a sight capable of stealing any man's breath.
Victor felt an almost irresistible urge to rise and grasp them, sinking his fingers into that tempting softness. It took all his willpower to remain still.
Moments later, he realized he had made the right choice.
The former queen positioned herself carefully and then enveloped his member between the two soft mounds. The contact was immediate… hot, firm, overwhelmingly pleasurable.
A shock ran down his spine.
Thousands of waves of pleasure washed over his body, leaving him almost numb. The rhythmic pressure, the smooth glide of her skin against his erection… it was infinitely more intense than any previous caress.
'The legendary Spanish woman…!'
'Ahh—!' The groan escaped before he could contain it.
His entire body trembled; his back arched involuntarily as he tried to resist the imminent climax.
Satisfied with his reaction, Carmilla smiled, increasing the pace. Her breasts moved more firmly around him, pressing against him, sliding, teasing.
Even so, Victor resisted. His pride wouldn't let him let out any more groans!
He refused to give in so quickly.
As if challenged by this determination, Carmilla raised her gaze and looked directly at him. Her eyes met his, intense and dominant. Slowly, she ran her tongue over her red, full lips in a deliberate gesture.
Without breaking eye contact, she leaned in a little closer. She looked like a lioness biting her prey. Then, with calculated gentleness, her lips touched the sensitive tip that peeked out between her breasts, depositing a slow, moist kiss—a silent promise of what was yet to come.
"OOhhh~" Overwhelmed by that almost celestial vision, Victor lost what little control he had left. His body tensed, and he surrendered to the climax, releasing himself intensely.
The peak swept through him like lightning, spreading once more over Carmilla's face and generous breasts—this time, more concentrated near her lips.
"Haah… haah… haah…" He breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Unlike other times, there was no strategy, no thoughts about objectives or how to please her better. Her mind was completely clouded by the successive stimuli, reduced to a diffuse sensation of pleasure and exhaustion.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with provocation.
"You really like marking my face with your milk, don't you?" she murmured, amused.
"I-it was too good… haha…" replied Victor, still too dazed to measure his words.
She smiled at seeing him in that vulnerable, almost disarmed state.
"You don't take my orders very seriously, do you? I told you to warn me before you came… but you simply ignored me."
The words made Victor regain some of his lucidity. And he just laughed.
"You're my wife, why do I need to warn you? If I want to, I'll come whenever I want, inside, outside, on your face, in your mouth," he began, rising slightly, "Wherever. I. Want."
But then he noticed the mocking glint in her eyes.
The smile she displayed was almost innocent if it weren't for the contrast with the liquid spread across her charming face. Still, that image gave her a different charm, dangerously seductive. It was enough for Victor to feel a slight reaction in his body, even though he had just reached his climax.
"Heh~ I never said I didn't like it…" she whispered. "But still, you need a little punishment for disobeying. After all, a wife takes care of her husband in the way she sees fit, right?"
"Oh, then I'll accept any punishment you give me, without fail!" Victor declared with an almost comical seriousness.
Carmilla laughed, a clear and melodious laugh. "Look at you, so cute… it doesn't even seem like I'm going to condemn you to death for lack of pleasure. Don't worry. It will only be a light punishment…" She slowly ran her tongue over her lips, savoring what was left there, in a deliberate and provocative gesture. "Maybe you'll even like it a little~"
A different sensation ran through her body—not just physical, but also emotional. There was satisfaction in seeing him like this: exhausted, lying on his bed, still affected by what they had done. The scene brought her a strange feeling of possession and triumph. And it was reciprocal.
'My imprisonment was definitely not wasted~', she thought, satisfied. "To think I would gain something so incredible after thousands of years sealed away… I'm so happy."
Straightening up gracefully, she let out a soft sigh, as if merely commenting on something trivial.
"Right. We need to get out of this lodge. The sun is about to rise… you need a bath, and I need to return to my vampire form. Although I used semen as temporary sustenance…"
Victor frowned and stared at her, still trying to process what he had just heard. "What?"
Carmilla shrugged calmly, as if discussing the weather. "I'm versatile. A drop of sperm contains more 'life' than a drop of blood. Besides," she added, with a slight, sideways smile, "your sperm is almost as tasty as your blood. It loses… but by a very small margin."
Her nonchalant tone made the statement even more disconcerting. While Victor remained silent, torn between shock and disbelief, Carmilla simply adjusted her hair naturally, as if that comparison were perfectly logical within her own standards.
…
[Palace of Roses]
With an exceptionally unstable mood, Ethan Cross walked towards the Complaints Office. As one of the most authoritative professors, most matters were handled by his subordinates… but that didn't mean he was irrelevant.
He saw himself as a CEO: someone who oversaw, directed, and manipulated the gears behind the scenes. However, in recent days, his routine had been completely destabilized by a single person.
Victor Valentine… The name echoed in his mind like an affront.
Ethan stopped before the door and knocked once, firmly. He waited. Nothing. A few seconds later, he knocked again.
"Ah…" An irritated sigh came from the other side. Ethan frowned, about to complain about the lack of respect, but the door opened before he could say anything.
The person who appeared was not who he expected.
It was Calindra Winters.
The eldest daughter of old Winters… a man Ethan despised with all his might. Calindra observed him with an indifferent look and stepped aside, making way without saying a single word.
They didn't exchange greetings. Ethan passed her with a look full of disdain and walked to the center of the room.
Seated behind a huge, darkened oak desk was Silvia Silverblood.
Her long red hair flowed smoothly over her shoulders as she read reports, signed them with elegant movements, and then stamped them with mechanical precision.
Without even raising her gaze, she spoke: "What do you want? I'm sure I made it clear last night that we decided not to get involved."
The dry sound of the stamp echoed through the room.
Ethan stopped in front of the table and placed a sheet of paper on it. "I brought this."
Silvia didn't look up. She only glanced at the document's title. "Denied."
The next instant, the paper caught fire and turned to ashes before him.
"You didn't even read it~" Ethan tried to protest.
"Quiet." A single word.
The pressure that exploded from her voice crushed any trace of authority he tried to maintain. The energy that had begun to build up around Ethan dissipated like smoke.
Then, finally, Silvia raised her gaze.
Cold. Cutting. Glacial.
"I'll repeat it," she said, stamping another report with irritating calm. "You started this. If you want to play the hero… or the villain… do it yourself."
She placed the stamp on the table and stared directly at him. "Stop acting like a failure who needs the family name to make decisions. You want to kill the boy? You want to frame him? Simple. Use your own strength. Do it with your own hands, you failure."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Ethan trembled. Part of it was fear… most of it was hatred.
"How dare you—!" He didn't finish the sentence.
In an instant, his right arm simply disintegrated, reduced to particles before his very eyes.
Before he could even scream, a hand grabbed his head.
Calindra.
Without apparent effort, she lifted him off the floor as if he were a rag doll and threw him across the room. The impact against the wall was brutal, cracking the structure behind him.
Silvia didn't even look away from the documents.
"Next time you raise your voice in here," she said calmly, stamping another report, "make sure you can pay the price."
Ethan was still kneeling among the rubble of the cracked wall when Silvia finally set down the stamp with a final clack.
The silence in the room was heavy. There was no hurry. There was no emotion.
Only control.
"Stand up," Silvia said, without altering her tone.
Ethan's right arm began to slowly recompose itself, dense particles rearranging themselves like magnetized dust. He breathed heavily—not from pain, but from humiliation.
Silvia rested her chin on her interlaced fingers and observed him as one might assess a persistent insect.
"I'll simplify it for you, since complexity clearly isn't your strong suit." She tilted her head slightly. "Your proposal is stupid."
Calindra stood by the door, arms crossed, expression neutral.
"You think you can file a formal expulsion," Silvia continued, sliding a new report aside, "against an active student, based on poorly disguised suspicions of personal rivalry?"
Ethan gritted his teeth.
"He's unstable," he retorted, his voice more controlled now. "He clearly had a psychotic break when he hit one of my family members."
"And?" Silvia raised an eyebrow. "Since when does that matter? Is it grounds for expulsion from here? Your family member is pathetic, that's all."
Silence was a sufficient answer.
She then leaned forward. "The three palaces sent the message yesterday. Your stubborn family has already been informed that there is no more protection here against your mediocre family who have been using and abusing the system. Settle your own issues, you incompetent," she said with a slight pause.
"The decision is unanimous," Silvia continued. "If you want to do something to the boy… do it. None of the Palaces will get involved."
Her gaze grew even colder. "Not to protect him. Not to help him."
Ethan blinked, absorbing it.
"So you're going to allow it?" he asked, almost incredulous.
"Allow it?" Silvia let out a slight, humorless laugh. "We don't care."
She made a vague gesture with her hand. "If you manage to destroy him, it proves he was weak. If he destroys you…" A small smile appeared. "It proves you were."
Calindra uncrossed her arms.
"But do it outside my office," Silvia added, her voice now carrying a subtle threat. "If you keep raising your voice in here, I'll end up ordering Calindra to kill you."
Ethan's gaze involuntarily shifted to Winters' daughter.
She didn't seem threatening.
Which made it all the worse.
"Get out," Silvia concluded.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't aggressive.
But it was absolute.
Ethan stood up, his arm now fully regenerated, his pride in tatters. His eyes burned with contained hatred.
"You'll regret this," he murmured.
Silvia had already returned to the reports.
"Close the door when you leave."
He left.
The door slammed shut unnecessarily.
Silence returned as if nothing had happened.
Calindra uncrossed her arms and walked to the table, picking up the small pile of ashes that remained from the burned document.
"What was that paper?" she asked, curious.
Silvia signed another report before answering.
"A formal proposal for purging and expulsion."
Calindra raised an eyebrow.
"Against whom?"
Silvia finally looked up, her red eyes reflecting subtle irony.
"A boy named Victor." She stacked the already stamped documents with impeccable precision. "As if he were just anyone."
Calindra let out a small puff of air through her nose. "The boy who almost died last night with the overloaded core." She said, smiling.
Silvia looked up, "What?"
"Oh… you still haven't read yesterday's report?" Calindra questioned, and Silvia turned her gaze to the pile of papers on the left and let out a long sigh…
"As you can see… I have a lot of work piled up…" She sighed, "Damn it… I just wanted an assistant."
Calindra looked at her offended, "And what am I?"
"My security."