Ophelia couldn't even look at… that. Shakingly, she tried to look at his face, but it was impossible. She tried to focus on his sharp jawline that could cut through stone, but her eyes continued lowering across his tanned body.
Killorn had a body that rivaled the god of war. He was dazzling. His neck was strong and formed his tense chest. His upper body was ripe with muscles as powerful veins curled up his arms. The chandeliers did him wonders, causing shadows upon his abdomen, revealing eight fine lines. Then, her gaze lowered, slowly, carefully…
Ophelia's heart skipped at the prominent planes on his hips where angry red veins pulsed at her stare. Then, she saw his large friend. It was impossible not, for it had once penetrated her enough for her to see stars.
"U-uh…" Ophelia couldn't even think straight.
Killorn wryly glanced at her. He was so hard that it was beginning to hurt him. She was a torturous temptation. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could profess sinful words that'd make a priest blanch, she was quick to blurt something out.
"D-do you run?" she clamored.
Killorn simply blinked. "What?"
"Y-you're so s-strong, so I-I thought you'd e-exercise a lot."
Killorn's lips twitched in amusement. He glanced down at her. She was beet red, from the tip of her head to the chest. He suppressed a laugh and bent to touch the water, worried it might be too warm, but it was perfect.
"I like to run in the forest," Killorn finally said, his voice filled with raw humor that made her twitch and look away awkwardly. He knew what she was doing.
Killorn reached for her chemise, but she quickly stepped away.
"Ophelia, come back here," Killorn growled.
With her shaky fingers, Ophelia undressed. He watched with keen eyes, from the softness of her supple body, to her child-rearing hips. He didn't notice it sooner, but her ribcage was prominent as day.
Immediately, his mood darkened. What the fuck had the people in her life been feeding her? Did they even give her food? He continued to regret not being able to skin the auction men alive.
Ophelia hugged her undergarments to her body and then turned. She began to fold the item and placed it on the table near the bathtub.
"M-my lord!" Ophelia shrieked when he embraced her from behind. She froze. His thick and pulsing member was pressed against her butt. She clenched it, only to realize it had provoked him further, for she felt a hard vein pulse.
Ophelia gulped. His muscles were hard as rocks, but his skin was smooth, and his hair ticklish on her naked skin.
"Ophelia, I really can't hold myself back anymore…" he hoarsely said, his voice thick and tense.
Ophelia shakily blinked. What was he waiting for?
Killorn buried his face into her shoulders. He kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulders. Then, he softly exhaled.
"You've lost my scent. I should fix that." Killorn carried her into the bathtub and lowered her until she was fully submerged.
"O-oh…" Ophelia could feel her anxiety melt away. The hot water soothed her body in more ways than one. She didn't realize her muscles were tense until the bath began to ease the knots.
In the corner of her eyes, Ophelia saw him place a leg into the water immediately, she scrambled to the other end of the bathtub. It was no use. Killorn got in and water immediately seeped over the edge. He was huge. Killorn got up 90% of the bathtub, his long legs forced to bend. He made a dull note to upgrade to a bigger one.
"Come, my lovely wife."
Killorn offered her a hand. She was cowering in the corner, her legs tucked, and her eyes wide. Then, he glanced down. Feint scars. They were all over his body. All of them had faded into light skin, and none stood up, except one fatal wound. He saw her swallow.
"Y-your chest…"
Killorn glanced down. Did she not see it when he railed her hard? He supposed not. The candle lights had dimmed and she was a panting mess whenever he touched her. Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her towards him.
"M-my lord," Ophelia whimpered, but not from panic. Sorrow filled her eyes and she was immediately on his body.
Killorn froze. Ophelia shakily touched the scabbed area, her lashes fluttering. He groaned, her fingers feather soft on his calloused skin. She quietly exhaled and suddenly glanced at him.
"It doesn't hurt. Ignore it." Killorn embraced her waist with one hand. She curled herself upon his body. He saw her lips quiver, almost as if she was holding back a sob.
"T-the second you t-told me y-you were going for battle t-that night," Ophelia confessed in a timid voice. "I-I should've prayed for your s-safety."
"Pray for yourself instead." Killorn grabbed the sponge from the wooden tray near the table. He found the bathtub incredibly small, but assumed it was the largest one they had. Not everyone was as freakishly large as him.
"You'll need all the assistance you can get after this bath." Killorn poured the soap into the sponge and breathed. Lavender. It suited her so perfectly. He sank the item into the bathtub and then squeezed out the water.
"I-I don't understand…" Ophelia mumbled.
Killorn's lips curled sardonically. She was far too innocent for her own good. Did she not realize how desperate he was to undress her? Around her, he could barely control his penetrating desires. He was akin to a willing moth and she, the unknowing flame.
Killorn leaned closer and began to clean her. She flinched the second his fingers caressed her inner thighs. Her breathing became uneven, her legs shaking with the memory.
"M-my lord?" Ophelia gasped out.
Killorn bent his head, his lips brushing seductively upon her ears. Skin against skin, he was growing harder by the second.
"It means I'm going to make love to you for so long, you'll be begging for the gods to spare you."