Chapter 7: The Fox Hunt
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The wine glass in the woman’s hand tilted precariously. As he quickly reached out to set it down, her heavy head dropped onto his shoulder with a soft thud.
Her damp, not-quite-dry hair soaked through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the faint chill that brushed against her alcohol-warmed body soon melted away.
Kneeling before Lyra, Kaylon let out a quiet chuckle. It had been obvious she was fighting sleep, and now she had finally lost the battle.
Still… does she even know what she’s doing right now?
The strands of hair tickling his face and her slow breaths, close enough to graze his collarbone, stirred something deep within him. His fingers, which had been idly playing with her golden locks, soon slid around her waist. He couldn’t let her spend the night in such an uncomfortable position—and if he left her like this, she’d surely catch a cold. So he lifted her into his arms.
Just as he carefully laid her down on the bed in her room, her steady breathing hitched. Before he knew it, Lyra’s eyes were open, staring blankly at him.
He froze, his hands hovering over the slender arms still draped around his neck.
She was barely a hand’s breadth away. Even though he knew she wasn’t fully awake—her pupils were still unfocused—his body refused to move, as if bound by her hazy gaze.
Even his exhales were cautious. He willed her to close her eyes again, but luck wasn’t on his side.
Reluctantly, he tried to loosen her grip, but then a whisper slipped past her lips.
“Don’t go.”
Her shimmering golden eyes locked onto his face. Had those red lips really just spoken? The words tangled in his mind. He barely suppressed the urge to demand she repeat herself and instead murmured softly, watching her slow blinks.
“Go back to sleep.”
Did it sound too cold? Her eyelids grew heavier, her usual sharp gaze completely gone.
“Don’t leave.”
A faint scent of wine burst from her lips with each breath. At the same time, the arms around his neck tightened with surprising strength, pulling him down before he could resist.
Kaylon, who had been bracing himself on one arm, collapsed onto Lyra without a chance to react.
“I want… you to stay.”
What was this mischievous mouth whispering now? Did she even realize how dangerous those words were, uttered to a grown man in the dead of night?
Now, all he could see were those slightly parted lips, red and inviting. No matter how hard he tried to look away, his gaze remained fixed, as if lured by some intoxicating fragrance hidden within them.
Maybe I’m the one who’s drunk.
Because right now, her lips looked more delicious than any delicacy in the world.
Thump. Thump. His heart pounded. Like a child thrilled by breaking a taboo, his entire body surrendered to the anticipation of what was to come.
His hand moved on its own, brushing carefully over her face. Her soft skin felt like it might melt under his touch. He couldn’t tell if his fingers were burning or if it was her cheeks radiating heat.
His thumb traced her lower lip for only a moment before he swallowed her mouth in a sudden kiss.
“Hng—!”
Her delicate body trembled helplessly beneath his solid frame. Their tangled forms pressed together, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of sensation.
Even as their movements grew more familiar, the feeling never lost its edge.
“Hah…!”
When she bit down on his hand, he studied her expression before lacing their fingers together.
“Should I slow down?”
His voice, low and tender, tickled her ear before he cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually sharp, were now dark with heat, demanding an answer.
Do I really have to say it? Even the teasing strokes of his fingers were enough to make her burn with shame.
“N-no… It’s… fine. Hah…”
The moment her trembling lips parted to respond, his hot breath crashed over them. The sweetness of wine and the bite of whiskey merged into one, their mingled taste dripping from her lips in an indistinguishable mess.
“Lyra.”
He murmured her name against her mouth before his tongue trailed down, licking the w*tness from her chin.
“Lyra.”
Even though she knew the repetition held no meaning, her lips twitched in response.
“Ah—!”
A sudden thrust made her back arch, a shiver running down her spine. Lyra clung to his neck—to pull him deeper, to accept him completely, not as a duke, but simply as a man.
Kaylon.
The name she had never dared to speak rose in her throat before vanishing. In her dazed state, where dream and reality blurred, she replayed their moments together over and over.
How did I end up like this with him?
She couldn’t breathe. Even if she wanted to gasp for air, she couldn’t. Just moments ago, the duke had been right in front of her—she had only wanted to stay with him a little longer. So why did it feel like her lungs were collapsing?
Lyra parted her lips again, panting desperately as she clutched at his collar.
“D-Duke…”
“You started this.”
“Hah… Duke…”
“Then you shouldn’t have provoked me.”
His lips reclaimed hers, this time with a slow, deliberate pressure that melted into her. The slick sound of their kiss filled her ears, her heart pounding as if it might burst. The tongue teasing deeper inside made her squirm, but she was quickly trapped again.
For a moment, her own words echoed in her mind.
“Don’t go. I want you to stay.”
Had she really said that out loud? Not in a dream, but in reality? Shame flooded her belatedly under his piercing gaze. She squeezed her eyes shut—his stare was too scorching to meet.
Then, a large hand grasped her chest.
“Hah—!”
Lyra’s eyes flew open in shock. The sensation of her peaked n*pple rubbing against his palm made her acutely aware of her thin nightgown.
As she twisted away, their lips parted, and his breath brushed her ear.
“Can I?”
His voice was thick with desperation.
“You’re already w*t.”
No— His whisper was treacherously sweet.
Truthfully, she had felt strange for a while now. Maybe ever since his lips first touched hers. A tingling wave had spread through her chest, craving more.
That was the only reason she clung to him, forgetting how to breathe. Even if she pulled away, her body would seek his warmth again on its own.
Whether it was the lingering alcohol or her trembling breaths, even a fleeting glance made her heart race. Yes, his hands on her chest played a part, but an inexplicable heat bloomed across her entire body.
“Lyra.”
Only after his urging voice reached her again did she nod silently.
Honestly, she wasn’t completely unafraid. Before tonight, she hadn’t even known how to kiss.
But now, none of that mattered. She just wanted to stay with him a little longer, to touch him a little more. This storm of sensation might never come for her again.
A flicker of sadness formed in her eyes before vanishing. Thankfully, his waiting gaze had drifted to her rounded shoulders, missing it entirely.
His heated stare trailed downward. The hem of her nightgown was pushed up to her waist, his movements unhurried yet deliberate.
As he settled between her thighs, his fingers traced her skin with unbearable gentleness. Everywhere he touched, goosebumps rose in response. Her nerves sharpened, hyper-aware of his every action.
He lifted one leg, pressing kisses to her knee—once, twice. Brief, feather-light touches, so different from the way his lips had claimed hers earlier. Yet when his breath brushed her chilled skin, something deep inside her coiled with shameless need.
As her legs instinctively tried to close, his other hand restrained her, sliding up her thigh. His palm glided over her hip, his gaze burning into every curve.
“Ah—! Hah…!”
The relentless rhythm pushed her toward the edge. Her entire body was slick with sweat, her legs draped over his shoulders trembling as if they might slip at any moment.
Lyra gripped the hands supporting her hips. The initial pain of her first time had long faded, but this maddening pl*asure now stole her breath, refusing to let go.
Her body felt weightless. No—it was as if her mind kept fracturing, bursting into sparks over and over. She wanted to forget where she was, who she was with, what they were doing—just for a moment.
“Ah—! D-Duke…!”
Her chest heaved, the sheets shifting beneath her. As the pace quickened, the bed became a mess. Lyra clung to him desperately.
“Say my name, Lyra.”
His voice was rough between breaths.
“D-Duke… Hah…! Ngh—!”
“My name.”
She realized belatedly what he wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. No matter how breathless she was, she couldn’t casually utter the name of such an esteemed man.
Instead, she pressed her lips together, swallowing her cries. The desire coiling inside her only grew wilder, as if refusing to release her until she obeyed.
Finally, under his expectant gaze, Lyra surrendered. Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she cried out the name she had longed to say.
“Ah—! Kaylon!”
As if praising her, the man’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. In that instant, his movements grew deeper, and a blinding cl*max seized her entire body.
Her ragged breaths were cut off as he suddenly withdrew. Before she could register the emptiness, the last shreds of her reason shattered, and warmth spilled over her stomach.
Dazed and panting, Lyra stared blankly at the man collapsing onto her before her eyelids fluttered shut.
