Barely the Beginning of Summer
The endless chain of thoughts that had seemed destined to go on forever snapped in an instant.
Reason was shoved aside, and the instinct that had been holding its breath raised its head. The time had come for instinct to run wild like a starved beast that had found its prey.
"Shh..."
He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust.
When her ragged breathing finally began to settle, she pressed experimentally just below her navel.
"It's so full, all the way to here... hhk."
A beat late, he understood her words and sucked in a sharp breath.
"...What."
"Aaah..."
Her beautiful hair spilled across the floor. Every one of his senses raced to savor only her. He could not hold back.
In a single motion he drove his cock back inside her to the hilt, leaving only the head free a moment before.
"Ah—nnnh, hhut."
A pleasure so fierce it felt as if her spine had been pierced wracked her body. His hands clamped hard around her waist so she could not escape. Veins stood out along the backs of his hands; his brow furrowed tightly.
Thud. Thwack.
Wet, slapping sounds rose from where their bodies joined. Without any attempt to moderate his strength, he chased only the places that made her feel the most.
"Auh, hh... nngh..."
Her face, twisted with pleasure, was beautiful.
His veined, ridged shaft ruthlessly parted her soft folds and plowed deep inside her with brutal force.
"Ah—Mr. Appiano... w-wait a moment..."
"Call me by my name."
In this moment, at least, he wanted the stiff formality stripped away. At his words she hesitated, then spoke his name in a faltering voice.
"Cesare..."
The low sound of his name sank into his ear. The name he had heard all his life suddenly felt unfamiliar. He pressed his mouth to her forehead and answered not with words but with a hot breath.
"Ah—hhut...!"
Her flushed, stretched-open flesh greedily swallowed his cock. Pleasure so close to violence felt as if it would pickle his brain. The arms she had locked around his back went slack; her entire body trembled. When he drove into her harder still, the slick friction of wet skin rang out more vividly through the room.
Whenever she was with Cesare, the painful thoughts blurred for a little while.
Only the subtle rasp of damp skin filled the chamber.
"W-wait... hhut."
He pounded the softest depths of her at a steady rhythm, and she reached her peak almost at once.
"Aaaah..."
A cry like a gasp of wonder burst from her. Her slender waist arched high; her throat fell back. Cesare kissed the column of her neck where it stood out taut.
"You get me worked up and then try to give up first?"
He whispered against her ear, laughter threaded through his voice. Before she could protest he slammed his fiercely swollen cock into her again with a wet, vicious sound.
Her spread legs swayed in the empty air. Between them Cesare never stopped stimulating her reddened, sensitive folds. The delicate inner walls, still hypersensitive from her climax, clenched and squeezed around him.
"B-but... hauk."
She tried to say something, but another wave of pleasure crashed over her and the rest of the words were lost. The cock that had withdrawn until only the head remained slammed back to the root in an instant. Every time the blunt head and raised veins scraped the ridges inside her, her mind threatened to blank out completely.
"Yaaah..."
A tingling ran down her spine; her vision flickered white and her senses swam. He, too, felt climax rushing toward him. He crushed her shoulders into a fierce embrace.
"...Ce-sare..."
The voice that whispered his name drew a low groan from his throat.
"Nnh."
The veins standing out on his flat lower belly pulsed, and he spilled his hot seed deep inside her.
Fortunately, Cesare's eyes opened in the late afternoon.
I must have dozed off.
He raked a hand through his disheveled hair for only a moment before searching for Delphina.
"Ah."
He had been about to rise at once and go looking when he stopped short. Delphina lay curled beside him. In a season when every moment seemed to blaze with life, she alone was perfectly still.
"...Hah."
At the absurd thought he held a finger beneath her nose. Her shallow breath let him release a quiet sigh of relief. He rose carefully so as not to wake her.
Instead of rousing her right away he gazed down at her sleeping face, then lifted his eyes to the gap in the open curtains. The sun was still high.
The long nights were slowly shortening and the days lengthening; it was impossible to tell at a glance how long they had slept. He drew the blanket that had slipped to her chest back up to her throat.
When he quietly checked the shirt left before the fireplace, it was dry enough to rustle.
"When did you wake up?"
By the time he had finished dressing, Delphina too had stirred from sleep. He turned and saw her looking thoroughly mussed.
The first time he had vanished when she woke; the second, he had fled as if pursued. The soft sound of Delphina breathing quietly beside him felt almost unnaturally peaceful. The fierce memories of the night had already receded like a dream, yet their afterglow still warmed the skin beneath.
"I myself have only just woken."
His voice was stiff, yet she seemed entirely unbothered.
"Fortunately we woke before sunset."
She stretched, and the blanket slid away. The marks he had left only a short while earlier were laid bare. He stared blankly at her disheveled form, then shot to his feet. The heat he had barely managed to quell peeked out again. Flustered Cesare whipped his gaze away so sharply it almost made a sound, and she let out a small laugh. He tried to hide his expression, but the flush that climbed to his ears and the nape of his neck could not be concealed.
"I shall escort you home before the sun sets."
The boyish look of a youth caught stealing glances at his first love and the man who had so savagely wrung climaxes from her the night before were almost impossible to believe belonged to the same person.
On the return journey as well, Delphina sat not inside the carriage but at his side. The faint fishy scent that still clung to him, though mostly dry, was diluted by the wind. It was the same road they had taken coming, yet it felt like an entirely different landscape. She watched the crimson trumpet vines she had missed earlier and the birds soaring beneath a low sky. Between those sights she stole glances at him; though he clearly noticed her watching his profile, he never once turned his head toward her—and that, too, was obvious.
"It seems I only ever show you my worst sides."
It was the sort of remark she could make only because they sat close yet were not looking at each other.
"You, my lady?"
For the first time he looked her way. She gave a light nod at the incredulous question.
"Yes."
Every time, it seemed, she ended up showing only the raw, unpolished parts of herself she least wanted anyone to see. But the man raised his voice as if asking when he himself had ever behaved disgracefully.
"Isn't that my line?"
"Mr. Appiano? You've never... done anything of the sort."
"Nor have you ever shown me anything unflattering, my lady."
Their eyes met and a soft laugh escaped them both.
"Even if that were true, this is only our second meeting, and there are still many more left, are there not?"
"That's true."
"That is why I am enduring even after showing you such an undignified sight. There is still time to make it up."
"Time... yes. There is, isn't there. It's only just the beginning of summer."
She repeated the words as if only now realizing the simple fact.
"Next time I will come with a proper plan."
This was already the second occasion his haste had thrown the schedule into disarray. It was unlike him. This foolish flailing was not who he was.
"I'll look forward to it."
The next meeting would be his chance to recover. His grip tightened on the reins. If this feeling were mere desire, why did it frighten him so?
The more he rehearsed his plans, the more clearly her laughter carved itself into his mind; he forced himself to ignore it.
It's only so I can buy the mansion.
He repeated the reminder to himself. If he did not, he felt he would become a dam that overflowed and collapsed. He did not even dare examine what, exactly, was overflowing. A strong premonition warned that if he slipped and fell, he might never climb back out.