Chapter 19.2

Chapter 19.2

Though he maintained a stoic expression, his eyes betrayed him. The fierce des¡re in his green eyes raged like the golden rim around his pupils.

André approached Miran from behind, pressing his lower body close to her bu!tt0cks. The prominent bulge on the left side of his trousers was now impossible to hide. He gripped her hips and thrst his waist forward roughly.

“Ah!”

André tilted his chin up towards the ceiling and exhaled a hot breath. Sweat trickled down his temples. As he thrust his lower body forward again, the table rattled and slid forward.

“Ah… It hurts.”

Miran, gripping the edge of the table, swung one arm back as if to push him away. André grabbed her hair and gave it a light tug.

“Ah! Ah…”

Reflexively raising her hand to her head, Miran shuddered and sobbed. André immediately released her hair and grabbed her shoulders, lifting her halfway up. They were almost at the end.

Each time his muscular thighs slapped against her firm butt0cks with a thudding sound, she swayed back and forth like a leaf in the wind.

André reached around and grabbed her br3asts from behind. Her ample ch3st deformed between his fingers. The sadistic nature of his actions fueled a primal desire that sent a tingling sensation through the back of his head.

“…Chorong. You shouldn’t ask for mercy. You should say, ‘Please kill me.’ Say it.”

“Ah, ah… Boss, please, k!ll me, ah! Spare me, please, ah…”

As André removed his hands from her ch3st, Miran collapsed onto the table. She continued to sob, covering her mouth as she cried pitifully.

André, catching his breath, wiped his face with his hands. He felt like a piece of trash.

“…Are you okay?”

In a low, hoarse voice, he asked Miran. She flinched and stiffened, sniffling as she turned her head.

André’s face turned pale when he saw her.

Her nose was red, and her swollen eyes were raw and inflamed. Her makeup was smeared from the tears streaming down her cheeks. Like André, beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Tears that had crossed her nose and cheeks dripped onto the wooden table, staining it dark.

She had been crying too sorrowfully for too long for it to be just acting. André gently grasped her shoulders and carefully lifted her up. The pitiful trembling of her slender shoulders was palpable in his hands.

It was the first time he felt the need to comfort a crying woman. The guilt from having pushed her so violently, as if he had truly become Park Doosik, played a part. It wasn’t just that he had followed the script; the undeniable fact that he had actually become ar0us!ed during the process left no room for excuses.

André awkwardly extended his arms and pulled Miran into an embrace, patting her back clumsily.

Startled by the sudden hug, Miran inhaled sharply and stiffened. After a moment of standing with her shoulders hunched, she collapsed into his arms. She buried her face in his broad chest. Clutching the hem of his shirt tightly, she began to cry silently, her shoulders shaking. His left chest grew warm and damp from her tears.

André felt like a part of his mind was crumbling. Comforting a crying woman was far more exhausting than the harsh training he had received during his military academy days.

Miran was still crying bitterly, but his lower body, which had been calming down, began to stir again without warning. In a situation where a na@!ked woman was clinging to his waist and pressing her entire body against him, there was nothing he could do.

“Ah…”

André let out a deep sigh and stroked her smooth back, moving his hand up and down from the wingbone area to the end of her spine.

Before long, the trembling of her shoulders became noticeably less. The sobbing sounds also changed to small, stifled gasps.