Don’t Hold on to the Broken Branch - Chapter 255

Chapter 255

The pleasure she had felt during their previous nights together resurfaced, overwhelming her once again. At the same time, she was reminded of how much intimacy they had shared. Even as they intertwined their bodies, they used to laugh over small, silly things. After their passion subsided, he would bury his face in her shoulder and speak with a soft, amused voice about the day’s events.

“So, what I said back then was…”

Even if what he said wasn’t particularly funny, his gentle and teasing voice made everything sound amusing. She would often fall asleep to the lull of his voice.

There was even that one cold winter night…

Deatrice woke up in discomfort, finding her hands and feet tightly bound in cloth. It was a strange sight. She nudged Lucius with her elbow, wondering if he had played a prank on her while she slept. In a sleepy voice, he muttered his reasoning.

“I touched you while you were sleeping, and your hands and feet felt like ice. So I thought tying them like that might warm you up.”

She had burst out laughing at that moment. Tying her up like a prisoner and claiming it was out of concern—how ridiculous. Yet, she liked his clumsy actions. She liked his careful voice.

Those moments had been filled with simple yet fulfilling joys. Everyday life had been ordinary, but precious, and they had shared a deep devotion to each other.

“Lucius, I… I’ll do it.”

Her voice came out impulsively. She didn’t know where such courage came from, but when she reached out, Lucius, not understanding her meaning, grabbed her hand.

“What…?”

But as her hand moved toward his waistband, Lucius understood and blushed deeply.

“That’s not necessary.”

He stopped her hand.

“You don’t have to go that far.”

“What do you mean, ‘go that far’?”

“You’re doing this because you feel guilty. You don’t need to.”

“Then were you doing it out of guilt?”

“When did I…?”

“You also… went down on me,” she whispered, her face turning red. Lucius stiffened as he grasped her hesitant words.

“That was different. Deatrice.”

“It’s not different. I feel the same. I want to make you feel good too.”

Lucius sighed heavily, a sigh that felt like a teacher reprimanding a disobedient student. Deatrice reached out to his chest, feeling the firmness beneath her fingers. She deliberately unbuttoned his shirt slowly as she spoke.

“I like that you’re older than me, but sometimes you act like such a frustrating teacher.”

His skin, a shade darker than hers, was exposed. As her hand trailed between his prominent collarbone and broad chest, Lucius muttered in a low voice.

“When did I ever–”

But Deatrice could sense the subtle excitement hidden in that low tone. Just as he had kissed her neck, she kissed his and said:

“You do. You asked for a kiss when you were seducing me, but when I try to do something, you act like it’s too difficult for me.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow as if he were wronged, but when her hand slipped into his trousers, he leaned his head back, succumbing to the slow wave of pleasure. His masculine throat, with its prominent Adam’s apple, was on full display. In her hand, she felt the warm, firm weight of his arousal.

“Ugh…”

Lucius buried his face against her shoulder, unwilling to let out any sounds. His hot breath fanned over her neck. As she released his throbbing member, it jerked, almost as if it were starved. Watching her delicate hands wrap around his sensitive tip, Lucius squeezed his eyes shut.

A groan escaped his lips, vibrating against her chest and tickling her heart. Deatrice gripped him a little tighter, remembering how he sometimes took matters into his own hands when he couldn’t wait for her to be ready.

The intense sounds he made during those times stuck with her, and she knew she needed to be firm.

His length, solid yet velvety, slid smoothly in her grasp. Deatrice soon lowered her head, her hair falling softly over his thighs. The sight of her perfectly framed face—her smooth brow, lowered lashes, elegant nose, and slightly parted lips—approaching him sent a shiver down his spine.

Her lips soon enveloped the tip of his member. The inside of her mouth was unlike anything else—soft and warm. Her tongue, moist and gentle, slicked over him, and Lucius felt a guttural groan rising from his throat. He had hoped not to fall apart, but resisting seemed impossible.

How could he, when she licked him like a piece of ice? Lucius leaned back, pushing his member deeper into her small mouth. She seemed surprised but sweetly accommodated him.

“Can I move a little?”

Lucius whispered. Deatrice looked up at him, confused, but he held onto the last thread of his sanity as he whispered softly.

“Just a little. I won’t hurt you. I won’t finish in your mouth.”

His desperate persuasion made Deatrice nod. She briefly thought he might want to move because she wasn’t skilled enough, but if it made him happy, that was all that mattered.

However, as he slid further into her mouth, the stretch of her lips became uncomfortable. With her mouth full, it became hard to breathe, and her body tensed.

“Hmm!”

You can now read all chapters of “Don’t Hold on to the Broken Branch” and its side stories by supporting us on Patreon!