Please Kill Me - Vol. 2 Chapter 2.3

After that day, I yearned for her every day. There were even days when I would push myself into her between her buttocks while she lay on her side. As my thick member slipped into the small, cute, round opening that had just started to whiten and plump, Dahlia’s vaginal muscles tightened around me as if she were awake, pulling me in. When I thrust into her from behind or from the side, her walls constricted even tighter, and Dahlia let out louder moans of pleasure.

Whether it was day or night, as I continued to explore her body, I couldn’t help but notice the suspicious glances from the servants. One day, as I was about to give instructions to Dahlia about the food she would eat, I overheard one of the maids speaking bluntly.

“Even animals don’t mate as frequently as the two do. A grown nobleman like him could marry any adult woman he wants, but even though he lives alone and doesn’t entertain any other women, he goes around serving a woman like that of servants. I thought he was of noble birth or a gentleman, but look at him, engaging with such a lowly woman. If that’s the case, why couldn’t any of us touch him? Hmph, I should have tempted him at least once… Who would have thought he’d go crazy for a woman who looks like a walking stench? His taste is quite unique. Bringing in such a repulsive and beggarly woman and devouring her like a madman, who could have predicted that? And to think he would turn into a complete dog for her.”

She was laughing and casually talking about me and Dahlia as if it was amusing. It didn’t bother me that she called me a dog. Knowing how loyal dogs can be, it was actually a compliment and an accurate description. However, daring to mention Dahlia and blabber about her like that. I wanted to grab the sharpest and largest knife from the kitchen and slice her tongue off.

“Get out of my house. Leave my territory immediately.”

As soon as the people in the kitchen felt my presence, they froze. The one who had mocked me didn’t dare utter a word. When our eyes met, I barely suppressed my anger and made such an intimidating move that she hurriedly scurried out of the kitchen as if someone had set fire to her skirts.

If it hadn’t been for that, I would have set fire to the servant’s bed outside the kitchen where she slept.

Since then, no one dared to mock me, but one day, while I had Dahlia straddling me and enjoying the ride for a long time, I sensed that someone was secretly watching our actions. I wondered if I had made a mistake because I was too focused on Dahlia, who was moving back and forth on top of me, moaning and gasping for breath.

However, even after that, I continued to feel uneasy several times, and eventually, I had to send away the servants one by one. I didn’t want anyone to witness my Dahlia succumbing to desire and gasping for breath.

Once everyone was gone, it was satisfying to know that I could indulge with Dahlia anywhere. Even household chores were done quickly with excitement. Taking care of my Dahlia alone was something I could do better than anything else in my lifetime.

Dahlia’s body became more and more alluring, and it was ripening. It was my misconception to think that Dahlia had a delicate and small skeletal structure, and that her breasts wouldn’t be that large. Every time I delved into Dahlia’s depths, her breasts seemed to grow larger, just like my own member. They swelled day by day, as if they were about to burst. Her nipples darkened and became more prominent, and her breasts themselves became heavier and fuller, almost unrecognizable. When she straddled me and I could feel her, Dahlia would wince at the weight of her milk-laden breasts and the sensitivity of her nipples. They continued to expand and became even more painful, beyond what could be relieved by me sucking and caressing them.

Certainly, Dahlia began to eat more frequently and her desire for me intensified both in intensity and frequency. Surrendering to Dahlia’s appetite and sexual desires, like a female animal in heat, I kneeled down and thrust into her relentlessly when she demanded my insertion like a bitch in heat.

As Dahlia moaned and whimpered in ecstasy, I too reached the peak of excitement and emptied myself completely with vigorous thrusts. However, unexpectedly, Dahlia, who never refused my insertion or withdrew her body, suddenly crouched down and expelled my cock.

Then, she curled up like a ball, as if desperately trying to protect something. I held her slender spine that still revealed the outline of her spine from behind. Dahlia was trembling. From the sight of her caressing her slightly bulging belly, I sensed that Dahlia was pregnant.

Dahlia was carrying my child.

Overwhelmed with emotions, different from the intoxicating pleasure I experienced in our intimate encounters, I felt a different kind of satisfaction, a sense of fulfillment. It took my breath away. I had never considered having a child or wanting my own baby. I simply wanted Dahlia. I wanted her by my side. I wanted her to be my woman. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to delve into each other’s energies every day, exhausting ourselves in the pursuit of ultimate pleasure. That was everything.

However, as I felt the presence of life that assured me that another season of our lives would continue, I experienced the existence of God for the first time and filled my heart with deep reverence and gratitude. As a young person who had never truly felt loved, I knew that the life growing inside Dahlia’s womb would grant me a different life from the one that even my own mother couldn’t protect. Our baby, growing inside Dahlia’s belly, would be protected from anyone who dared to harm them. I would pour out an immense love, just as I did to Dahlia. I would love and love again. I would cherish and treasure them. I would feed them only the best things in the world and let them grow amidst the most delightful fragrances. Holding Dahlia, who crouched in my arms, I made a vow, a firm promise.