kiss
The door slammed shut again.
Draven felt he couldn't go on like this; it was getting out of hand. He was a normal, hot-blooded man, a seasoned womanizer. This level of contact far surpassed any casual fling he could buy with money. It was an irresistible, unsuspecting sexual temptation.
Damn it, who can withstand this?
He struggled to turn his body, trying to face Alice and explain things clearly, hoping she could see the struggle in his eyes and then forgive him—he really was about to die.
However, what he didn't expect was that after turning his body, he would not only have to face her lower abdomen so close to his, but also her sudden descent.
Alice, who was hanging from the door frame, exclaimed, "I'm out of strength!" and let go, falling backward.
"Eh?! Eh eh eh eh!!" Draven was so scared he almost flew out of his skin. He didn't care about his half-kneeling position and reached out to catch her. The weight of the falling caused Draven, who was already unsteady, to stagger forward on his knees like a dog after catching her.
Then he threw Alice onto the bed.
Draven was pulled along by the momentum and fell onto her.
...A scent carrying the fragrance of a young girl mixed with a hint of sweat rushed into my nostrils.
"Ugh!!!"
This was the final straw that broke the camel's back; the string of integrity in Draven's mind snapped.
...To hell with integrity!
Draven couldn't take it anymore. He was panting heavily, one hand haphazardly trying to unbutton the annoying buttons on his pants, while the other hand instinctively kneaded her body, feeling her amazing softness and elasticity through the thin fabric.
He rolled over and pressed down on top of her, the mattress creaking under the weight.
He looked at her face so close to his, and with the last vestiges of his fragile sanity, he stammered, his voice hoarse and barely audible, "Alice, I...I..."
What did he want to say? An apology? An explanation? A request for her permission? He himself didn't know.
Alice, pinned beneath him, felt no fear, but rather a surge of joy, as if this were the carefree "Little De" she remembered, the one who would play pranks on her. She stretched out her arms and naturally wrapped them around his neck, like vines entwining a tree. She gazed at him with her clear, red eyes, her tone one of utterly natural coquettishness:
"Little De, like before! A kiss!"
Alice tilted her head back, pouted her pink lips, and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, just like she did when they were little.
...Kiss my ass! How the hell are these the same thing?!
To hell with morality! To hell with the future! This is his Alice! He's been searching for her for nineteen years! And now she's in his arms!
The last vestige of struggle in Draven's eyes was completely swallowed up. He suddenly lowered his head and fiercely bit her lips.
(The detailed process of the old pervert losing control, which took two thousand words, is omitted here.)
----------------------------------
Draven stood shirtless on the balcony, a night breeze sending shivers down his spine. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, staring at the dark sky and a few scattered lights outside. His mind raced with the jumbled images from earlier—Alice crying and begging, her pinkish skin, and that… damn!
He raised his hand and slapped himself again.
"I'm a fucking bastard..." he muttered under his breath, taking a deep drag on his cigarette, his lungs burning.
"Xiao De...drink some water..."
Alice's sleepy murmur drifted from the bedroom, soft and gentle, like a kitten's paw scratching at his heart.
Without a second thought, Draven stubbed out his cigarette on the railing, turned and darted back into the house, hurriedly replying, "Coming, coming, wait here, I'll pour it for you right away."
He frantically found the kettle, poured a glass of water, and brought it to the bedside. Alice was already half-sitting up; the blanket had slipped down to her waist, revealing her bare back and waistline, which shone brightly in the dim light. She squinted, looking at him groggily.
"Damn..." Draven's Adam's apple bobbed as he cursed under his breath, feeling his brother, which had just calmed down, starting to throb again.
He held her shoulders and brought the water glass to her lips. Alice sipped it slowly, then leaned against him, her arms softly wrapped around his abs, muttering, "I want to sleep in your arms..."
"Okay, okay, I'll sleep in your arms." Draven sighed resignedly, helped her lie down, and quickly pulled back the covers and crawled in himself. As soon as he lay down, Alice automatically rolled into his arms, wrapping herself around him with her arms and legs, rubbing her head against his chest, and finding a comfortable position to stay still.
With a soft, warm body in his arms, skin against skin, the delicate touch caused Draven's barely suppressed lust to surge back up, even more intensely than before.
He looked down at the face in his arms, rosy from sleep, mouth slightly open, looking completely at him. His meager sense of guilt was instantly devoured by an even fiercer impulse.
“...Who the hell could resist this…” he cursed under his breath, with a hint of recklessness, and leaned down to kiss her.
"Screw it, it's all the same now," he thought.
...
(The detailed process of the old pervert losing control, which took two thousand words, is omitted here again.)
...
The next day, the sun was high in the sky.
Draven woke up refreshed, feeling more relaxed than he had in nineteen years. The person in his arms was still fast asleep, breathing evenly, with a tired flush on their face. He grinned smugly, experiencing unprecedented satisfaction—not just physically, but emotionally as well.
A knock came at the door, and the executioner's deputy shouted at the top of his lungs, "Lord Draven!!!"
He jolted awake, quickly and quietly pulling his arm away from under Alice's neck, grabbing the blanket beside him and carefully covering her up—no kidding, if someone saw him, he'd be in big trouble. He casually wrapped a towel around his waist, darted barefoot to the door, and cracked it open.
"Keep your voice down!" he snapped in a low voice. "I heard you!"
The deputy was sweating profusely: "The executions have already begun this afternoon, and there are only three left before it's your grand finale..."
"Push it!" Draven said without hesitation.
"Sir! All the tickets have been sold, the audience..."
"Find someone else! Or give me a refund!" He waved his hand impatiently, glancing back at the bed. Alice seemed disturbed, turning over, the blanket slipping down to reveal her smooth shoulder. He quickly closed the door again. "Stop nagging, I have something to do today, taking my darling out for a walk!"
After saying that, he closed the door and locked it.
Fuck executions, fuck jobs!
Alice was awakened by the sound of the door closing. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up, the blanket sliding all the way up to her waist. She blinked groggily, and seeing Draven, she called out softly, "Draven~"
The lecherous old man immediately scurried back to the bedside: "I'm here, are you awake, baby?" He hugged her and kissed her, gently stroking her back. "Is anything bothering you?"
I'm hungry...
"Come on! I'll take you to eat the best!" Draven waved his hand, full of pride.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Half an hour later, on the busiest central avenue of the Immortal Fortress.
For the first time ever, Draven, the Glorious Executioner, didn't wear his signature performance outfit. Instead, he changed into a flashy dark red casual suit with gold trim. Sunglasses covered most of his face, but an undeniable smug smile still peeked out from the corners of his mouth.
The most eye-catching thing was the woman he was holding in his arms—silver hair and red eyes, with a stunningly hot figure, wearing an expensive white lace dress, yet she was being held firmly in front of him like a child, her bottom supported. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and she was curiously looking around.
“Little De, that shiny one!” Alice pointed to the jewelry store window.
"purchase!"
"That smells so good!" she pointed to the dessert shop.
"purchase!"
“That one moves!” she pointed to the mechanical bird being held by a street performer.
“…Buy it too!” Draven didn’t even blink.
He didn't care at all about the stares and whispers from passersby. This was how he wanted it to be! He wanted everyone to see how much Draven doted on his darling! Only a beauty like her deserved him, the Glorious Executioner!
He deliberately slowed down in the most crowded area, and without regard for others, pinched Alice's cheek, leaned over and kissed her, making her giggle.
Alice had one arm around his neck, and in the other hand she held a newly bought honey cake dripping with syrup. She licked it little by little, her eyes squinting from the sweetness, like a satisfied cat.
"Xiao De," she called softly, licking her lips which were stained with golden syrup, "this is so sweet, do you want to try some?"
Syrup dripped down her fingers, and Draven naturally lowered his head and put her fingers in his mouth to suck on them: "Hmm, it's sweet. But not as sweet as you."
Turning his head, he saw a few passersby whispering. "What are you looking at?" he said arrogantly, raising his chin at them. "Never seen anyone who dotes on their wife?"
The group of people were so frightened that they quickly scattered and slipped away with their heads down.
Draven was in high spirits. Yes, that's it. He would make up for the time he had lost. He would let the whole world see the affection he had neglected.
Execution, performance, power, glory... all of that is nothing when I hold Alice in my arms and look at her innocent smiling face.
He held her in his arms as if she were the whole world he had lost and regained, and paraded through the city. He wanted to make up for the nineteen years of neglect he had caused her, every single day from now on.
As for tomorrow?
Screw it! Draven is going to be lawless today!
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