Chapter 24.1

Chapter 24.1

Miran’s body trembled as if she were about to faint, and she grasped the sheets tightly.

“Ah, ah!”

As she was overwhelmed by pleasure, she stiffened her entire body and arched her back greatly. Her leg, which was draped over André’s shoulder, stretched out into the air. Then, her thigh began to convulse. At that moment, the blunt head of his length thrust into her palm once again.

“Ah!”

A short, animalistic cry escaped her lips as a hot liquid spurted onto her palm. Startled, she pulled her hand away, and this time, he let it go easily.

Each time André thrust into her, his seed spilled onto Miran’s upper body, dripping down her chest. As she bit her lip and tilted her head back, her neck muscles tensed. The longer she had held back, the longer the ej@cula!tion lasted.

The rough breathing of the two and the pungent smell of liquid filled the small attic room to the brim, making it feel like it would burst.

As their breathing slowed down, André slowly pulled his length out from between her thighs. He then carefully lowered her leg, which had been resting on his shoulder, back onto the bed. The hand that had been gripping her knee tightly left a red mark.

Miran looked up at André with a dazed expression. His face filled her softened, moist brown eyes.

His perfectly sculpted features, like those of a statue crafted with care, were softened by the lingering pleasure. The lamp on the table cast a golden halo around his bare shoulders. Despite the darkness of the room, André seemed to be the only one illuminated.

For the first time in her life, Miran realized that a man could be beautiful.

‘I take back what I said about André not looking like a man.’

In Miran’s eyes, he looked more handsome than Terius, the protagonist of a romance manhwa, more dashing than the actor who played the saxophone in last year’s hit drama, and sexier than Tristan, who made a dramatic entrance on horseback.

A faint smile crossed Miran’s lips. Blinking her languid eyes, she reached out towards André. He looked down at her with an unreadable expression and slowly leaned forward.

As their noses almost touched, Miran wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her head slightly.

Her lips softly brushed against André’s with a gentle “chup” sound before pulling away. Looking into his eyes, she smiled brightly and then closed her eyes.

Whether it was the release of tension from the script practice, the delayed effect of the alcohol, or the dizzying climax she had experienced for the first time, Miran’s body felt heavy and languid. Before long, her arms slipped off André’s neck and fell limply.

André, who had been stiffly hovering over Miran, slowly rose. His cool eyes looked down at her lying on the crumpled floral sheets. His fluids were drying on her stomach and chest.

As she lay there, loosely sprawled and drifting into sleep, she looked much younger than her age. André glanced down at the innocent foreign woman and then around the attic room, which resembled a makeshift dormitory in a poor training camp. A faint trace of regret flickered in his eyes.

Just before falling asleep, she had pulled him in for a kiss that only lovers would share. That kiss, and the blind gaze she had given him, rekindled the reason that had been consumed by desire. In that moment, clarity returned.

André pressed his forehead and let out a long sigh.

[What the fuck have I done.]

—

André left Miran’s attic room just in time for the first bus of the day. The sky before dawn was indistinguishable between night and morning. Streetlights attached to telephone poles, sticking up like toothpicks planted in the ground, cast faint light sporadically along the narrow alley. Even the dog that had barked all night seemed to have fallen asleep, leaving only the heavy sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet alley.

He retraced the path he had walked the previous night. Hearing the sound of a car engine in the distance, he realized he wasn’t far from the main road. With each wide stride, the twilight gradually lifted.

A newspaper delivery boy, skillfully tossing rolled-up newspapers over gates from his bicycle, was startled by the sight of the large foreigner emerging from the darkness.

Letting out a terrified scream, the boy barely managed to steady his bike. As André passed by, the boy openly stared and muttered to himself.

“Wow, shi!t. That scared the hell out of me. Is he like two meters tall?”

As he reached the main road, the bluish dawn light began to illuminate the street. Remembering the bus number he had taken the previous day, André boarded the bus that had just arrived at the stop.