Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Blackened and Ruined
The fervor of those who believed that prayer brought them closest to the gods was palpable. If this fervor symbolized the sanctity of this prayer room, then what Vinea and Tatar were about to do was a direct affront to that sanctity. The pristine, spotless prayer room began to fill with a red heat that seemed to defy any notion of purity.
Tatar’s thick fingers wrapped around Vinea’s slender waist in an instant. Losing her balance at the sudden height shift, Vinea gripped his solid shoulders tightly. Simultaneously, their lips crashed together without anyone taking the lead.
The warmth from their bodies quickly dispelled the cool air around them. His urgent kisses were rough, like a starving man devouring his first meal in days. As Tatar laid Vinea down in front of the statue, he began undoing the buttons that had been constricting his neck. Unable to bear it any longer, he tore them off with one hand. The gold-embellished buttons rolled across the floor, gleaming.
These were insignia only the Emperor could wear, deserving of careful treatment.
When Vinea’s back touched the cold pedestal, she shivered from the chill that seeped through her thin clothing. Her brows furrowed slightly as she glanced at the buttons scattered on the floor.
“Your Majesty.”
“Bear with it, as I am bearing with it too. Perhaps I should use this opportunity to change these bothersome clothes.”
He rolled up his sleeves with hurried motions. Lowering his head, he continued to plant kisses, then bit down on the delicate skin near her collarbone. She had wrapped herself tightly for the temple visit, leaving only her neck and collarbones exposed, which frustrated him.
As if to consume every inch of exposed skin, he sank his teeth into her white flesh, leaving red bite marks. Vinea winced, and Tatar’s smile deepened.
His hand lifted her long skirt, revealing plain white stockings and the garter belt holding them in place. The contrast between the pure white prayer room, her white dress, and Vinea herself made Tatar’s gaze linger. It was as if he wanted to etch this moment into his memory, even if it dissipated like a dream after a few regressions.
As his heated body touched her cool thigh, Vinea’s back stiffened involuntarily.
Click.
Tatar easily unfastened the left clasp of her garter belt and moved his hand to her right thigh.
“Are you alright? Without a bed or even a simple sofa, you’ll suffer quite a bit afterward.”
Vinea snorted softly, tilting her head slightly.
His eyes asking for permission after already half-undressing her seemed utterly hypocritical. Thanks to his persistent kisses, her body was already burning up. The intense heat, shared breaths, and impending cl*max—her body was more than ready, waiting for it all.
Vinea’s hand guided Tatar’s to her right thigh.
Click.
In a brief moment, indistinguishable as her action or his, the remaining clasp was undone.
Tatar’s expression changed, and his shadow engulfed Vinea in an instant. His erect*on, already hard and straining against his pants, made its presence felt.
Unlike when lifting her dress, his impatient hands undid his waistband, and his massive erect*on sprang free, pulsing with anticipation.
His right arm slid under her right shoulder, cradling her slim waist with his hand. The blunt head of his p*nis touched her entrance. Tatar constantly reminded himself that Vinea was lying on hard marble, or else he might lose all consideration and ravage her instead of the prayer room.
Tatar breathed heavily, and so did Vinea. Despite the familiarity of the act, her body, having spent only a night with him after the regression, was not yet accustomed to his size. Sometimes she was bedridden for a week, depending on how much he restrained his desire.
Vinea’s eyes caught Tatar’s Adam’s apple bobbing prominently. Her hand instinctively reached out, only to withdraw at the sound of his grinding teeth, but it was already too late.
“―Vinea.”
He did his best, but his patience was far shorter than she had anticipated.
Had she known how much her exposed legs and lifted white dress irritated him, she wouldn’t have dared provoke him.
Tatar lifted her waist with a short, strong thrust.
“Ha―”
Vinea’s red lips parted in a gasp. Her body, stiffened with tension and pain, was trapped in Tatar’s grasp, with no escape. All she could do was accept the intense presence he thrust into her without any thought of concealing it.
Despite knowing that short pain would lead to long pl*asure, Vinea found it difficult to relax.
“Haah…”
Tatar’s hot breath warmed Vinea’s earlobe. Not rushing was the most patience he could show for her sake. Slowly, he moved, aiming for the deepest, hottest part of her. His rigid and large m*mber throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat, making Vinea acutely aware of his massive presence inside her, even in her pain-clouded state.
“Accept me, Vinea. Hurry.”
Despite his urging, Vinea couldn’t easily relax. Was it always this painful? Or was it that his size was just too much to get used to?
The first night after regression had been so hectic that this moment felt even more unfamiliar now.
The searing pain felt like a scorching fireball tearing through her insides.
Seeing no sign of her relaxing, Tatar finally pushed the remaining half of himself into her without waiting.
“Huh, st-stop―”
“Haah, that’s not… possible.”
If she were to die here and regress again, it might be different, but stopping this act was out of the question.
“Ah, Your Majesty…!”
She clutched his shoulders tightly as he forced himself all the way in. Her nails dug into his thin shirt, likely leaving marks, but he pressed closer as if encouraging her to do more.
What followed was a movement far more demanding than she expected, shaking Vinea to her core.
“Ha, huh! Ngh!”
“Endure it, Vinea. Hah… Make a mess of this place, the gods, Sefitiana, the temple.”
Whether he intended to ruin the temple or her, Vinea couldn’t voice the question, her lips only releasing moans.
“Haa!”
His slow but rhythmic movements soon had her inner walls starting to get w*t.
“Ah, ha…”
Though her moans still held traces of pain, Tatar already knew the solution to this problem.
He remembered everything about Vinea. The countless nights, the countless days, the countless hours they had spent together. As he thrust his hips upward, a flicker of emotion, other than pain, sparked in Vinea’s wide eyes.
“Ah!”
“Hoo―”
Despite the w*tness easing his movements, the tightness of her inner walls made him grit his teeth. He lifted Vinea effortlessly. Her b*ttocks barely rested on the pedestal holding the statue. The cold marble made her tighten around him even more, and Tatar, supporting himself with one arm on the pedestal, pulled her closer as if to crush her.
His powerful movements pushed Vinea upward.
“Ah! Hah, Huh! T-Tatar, Tatar―”
With each thrust of his hips, Vinea’s breath hitched. Her flailing arms broke more branches off the statue behind her, but neither of them paid any mind.
His unrestrained movements began to quicken.
Thud, thud, thud!
His relentless thrusts seemed tireless, both hard and fast. Tatar moved with such skill that he could outline every bone in his body, leaving Vinea unable to do anything but be shaken by his rhythm.
When did his concern turn into such fervent desire? His now darkened, fervent gray eyes captured Vinea’s wavering form.
All Vinea could do was hold on desperately to his solid body, her mind barely holding on.
As her gasping breaths were reduced to pure pl*asure, his thrusts reached their peak, striking the deepest part of her. Encircled by his arm, Vinea’s waist arched, and her head tilted back.
The fierce movements abruptly stopped as if it was all a lie. A final, breathless gasp escaped Vinea’s parted lips, and a stifled groan slipped from Tatar’s tightly closed mouth.
“Ah…!”
“Khuk―”
Light from the round glass ceiling illuminated Vinea’s face, now flushed with pl*asure.
Tatar withdrew from her at last, his tip releasing milky fl*id that messed up the floor. The dress slipped back down to cover Vinea’s legs, giving the illusion that nothing had happened between them.
But the lingering heat on their faces and their heavy breaths betrayed the intense pl*asure they had just shared.
Their trembling bodies slowly returned to their usual states. Vinea pushed Tatar away and placed her feet on the floor. Despite the intense movements, her shoes stayed securely on her feet.
As soon as she stood, her body swayed, and Tatar caught her with practiced ease.
“It seems we’ve made quite the mess, just as you wished, Empress. Sefitiana and the gods should see this. Should we pray?”
“Falling for such clumsy seduction just this once.”
“It seems to have been quite effective. Your face….”
Tatar’s eyes shifted to the firmly closed door.
“…And their faces are quite the sight to behold.”
Through the silently opened door, about ten priests bowed deeply, their faces red.
The thin door, the Emperor and Empress, whose status could not be trifled with, and their passionate sounds—all of these elements left the priests unsure of what to do, until they finally opened the door once the noises ceased.
The younger priests standing at the back would undoubtedly spread rumors about this. While such gossip would never leave the strict confines of the temple, it would plant seeds of secular and misguided desires in the hearts of these young priests who were the temple’s future.
Vinea looked around at the ruined prayer room and the priests, sighed lightly, and closed her eyes in Tatar’s shameless embrace as he walked away.
