CHAPTER 49: GOING ALL THE WAY? OR NOT?

Deklan clicked his tongue in displeasure.

It was not fair for the system to keep detailed logs like this, as that would not allow him to manipulate himself that he was a saint. He couldn’t feel good about himself for believing what he wanted to believe, and that’s annoying as fuck.

Not giving a specification about the system was a mistake on his part.

Had the system been robotic, this wouldn’t have happened.

"Keep those kinds of thoughts to yourself, Marsha. If you say that to a guy, you’re only putting yourself into trouble," Deklan blinked and focused on Marsha again. "Any guy would be tempted if you say that. I’m sure you didn’t mean it anything like that, but still..."

"Are you tempted, young master...?" Marsha asked.

She stepped closer, too close, looking up at him with innocent curiosity in her eyes.

At this moment, she was barely a step away from Deklan to the point he could smell her scent.

A distinct, natural scent that he really liked.

Even her warm breath reached him; that’s how close she was being.

She’s too close! Calm down, calm down... She’s only curious and too innocent.

No, hell with that. She certainly knew what she was doing!

Deklan leaned back a little, putting a space between them as he struggled to keep himself in check.

"Of course, I’m also a guy. Don’t underestimate your look," He turned away, regulating his breath. "So, stop being so close. Don’t you know about my bad reputation? How do you know that I’m not acting good to you because I want to get in your pants? What if I pounce on you right now?"

[Noble much?]

"I know you’re not a bad person, young master. At least not to me," Marsha answered, smiling like an angel—bright and pure. "And even if you do have ulterior motives to me, I think—as long as it’s you, young master... I don’t mind."

Like a TV being unplugged, Deklan’s mind turned blank when those words slipped from her lips.

And shutting down alongside it was his restraint.

Deklan squared his shoulders broader and looked down at Marsha in the eyes.

Paul raised no pussy. If I back away from this, then I can’t be called a man!

Seeing that Deklan was being silent, Marsha blinked her eyes and averted her gaze to the side. She held her burning cheeks with her hands, only now realizing that she was becoming too bold for comfort. For her to make the first initiative was no doubt out of her comfort zone.

But she was swept by the moment.

’What do I do, what do I do...? What if the young master thinks that I’m a bad gi—???’

Marsha’s eyes widened when she felt something soft pressed against her lips.

It took her a few seconds to register what had happened—Deklan’s hand had already tilted her chin up, guiding her face toward his before his lips claimed hers. Frankly, it happened so quickly, so suddenly, that Marsha needed several more seconds to catch up to it and react at all.

As soon as she came to realize she was kissing Deklan, her face reddened like a tomato.

’He’s kissing me? He’s kissing me?!’

Marsha’s mind spiraled into a mess as her senses sharpened to the sensation on her lips.

She had never kissed anyone before; this was her first time.

And the sensation overwhelmed her completely.

"Mmmph!"

Marsha was startled when Deklan pushed her hard, causing her to stumble a few steps backward before her back slammed against a tree behind her. It wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t light either, and before she could even recover from the impact, Deklan already seized her lips again.

But this time, he was greedier—harder, more forceful, like he wanted to savor every inch of her.

Everything was so new for Marsha.

It’s like she was being shown a world that she had never experienced before.

Her hand pressed against Deklan’s chest, desperate for even a moment to gather her thoughts and really process what had happened, but it was like pushing against carved stone. She couldn’t muster enough strength to push him away.

It was intoxicatingly suffocating.

Being pressed by Deklan’s body against the tree was something she didn’t know she liked.

All she could do was pat on Deklan’s chest, signaling to him that she needed a break, a moment to breathe, but Deklan had no patience to give her time. Instead, he went even further and slipped his tongue into her mouth.

Marsha felt the world narrowing to the heat of his mouth.

His tongue masterfully slipped inside, a velvet stroke that coaxed hers into a slow, dizzying dance.

Her resistance shattered, not with a crack, but a melt as her body went pliant against his.

Underneath, her legs lost all their strength and the intention to keep standing.

But as she slid down, Deklan wrapped his arm around her waist—and placed his leg right between her thighs, stopping her from slipping. Helpless against the weakness flooding her body, she found herself firmly in place as Deklan kept her steady, pressed securely against him.

No way for her to escape.

Deklan parted her lips and traced down her neck, passionately kissing every inch.

"Hahh... Young master, stop..." She pleaded.

Amidst her sensual expression, she seemed to have something to say, but with Deklan caressing her so forcefully, all that came out of her mouth were moans. Not only that, despite her telling him to stop, her body was singing the opposite.

Between the two? Of course, Deklan chose to listen to the latter.

"Hnghh..." Marsha bit her lower lip when she felt a bite. "Please go easy on me, young master..."

And she instinctively sucked in a deep, sensual breath when Deklan’s hand slipped into her tunic from underneath—palm searing a path up the arch of her waist. As his fingers climbed the slope of her ribs, a sharp, sensual breath was caught in her lungs, escaping only when his touch finally cupped the full, aching weight of her breast.

Deklan tensed up at the full sensation in his hand.

It was bigger than he anticipated, and soft like a marshmallow from heaven.

Unable to hold back anymore from going all the way, which was evident from the bulge on his crotch, Deklan wrenched himself away with a guttural groan, putting a sliver of trembling air—between them. His gaze, which was dark and smoldering, drank in the beautiful ruin he had wrought.

Her cheeks were painted with a deep red blush, while her eyes were heavy-lidded and dazed with passion.

Underneath, her lips were swollen from his possession, parted around ragged breaths that failed to find their rhythm. And her clothes—a delicious disarray that whispered of the trespass and her surrender; it was a sight that could make any man go crazy.

Deklan soaked in everything and couldn’t help but crack a smirk.

Pleased by the sight.

Just as he was about to pull down his pants and show off his manhood, Marsha caught his hand.

"What’s wrong? Are you having second thoughts?" Deklan asked.

Frustration crept into his voice as he couldn’t wait any longer.

It was so bad that his body was shaking, and he felt pulling his hair hard if they stopped here.

"No... It’s not that," Marsha said, shaking her head—still extremely breathless. "I’m happy that I can make you feel this way, young master... but I need to ask." Her voice trembled a little as she stared at him deeply. "There’s a floral scent on you. The blood masked it, but I’m certain it’s there. Who is she? Are you really feeling this way because of or because of whoever this woman was?"

Deklan, who was fixated on what he wanted to do next, paused at the question.

He tilted his head a little, confused, "A floral scent?"

Not knowing what Marsha was talking about, Deklan smelled himself to check, and he couldn’t smell anything. The scent of blood was thick on him, so even if there was a floral scent, Marsha shouldn’t be able to smell it.

Heck, he didn’t even know what she was talking about.

"I think you’re mistaken," Deklan approached again, reaching for her waist. "How can there be a floral scent on... me?"

Deklan paused.

It was only then that he recalled what he had done earlier.

Earlier, he had helped the Riven-Mouthed Maiden wear the hairpin he’d given her, which was nothing more than the Ghost Conqueror skill’s extension. In doing so, he could’ve avoided brushing against her as she was extremely close.

And her rich, regal floral scent must’ve rubbed off on him.

But still, what is she? A dog? How can she smell that when I have blood on me?!

Does she have a selective sense of smell or something?

Or is this what people say about a woman’s instinct?

"It’s nothing," Deklan forced a smile and held her shoulders. "It’s the strong Ghost I met earlier. It was woman-shaped and also had this sweet floral scent. You don’t need to worry about that; it’s only a Ghost. I’m feeling like this because of you. Now shush. Let’s continue. Don’t ruin the mood."

Marshan was uncertain, but she decided to trust Deklan and reclined back.

"Okay, young master," She lay down on the ground, covering her face with her hand shyly.

Deklan also went down and propped himself above Marsha, ready to dive in.

But then, her head snapped to the side.

Aooouuu!

A loud howl reverberated through the air, and it sounded really close.

Another pack of the Drifting Skeletal Beta from the sound of it.

"Young master—I think we should return. Being in the forest during the night is more dangerous," She said worriedly, looking around to make sure there were no wolves nearby. "The howl sounded too close for comfort, too..."

Hearing this, Deklan tilted his head down, screaming curses inside his head.

It was never his intention to do it, but Marsha tempted him, and now they ended up in this situation.

But now, when he was already riled up, he couldn’t even finish.

Even though he was frustrated inside, veins bulging across his neck to exercise self-restraint, he forced a smile. "That’s a good idea," He said with a strained voice. "Come on, let’s go back."

Deklan helped Marsha stand up and told her to run back to the hamlet.

And she did as she was told.

As for Deklan, he put the Drifting Skeletal Beta carcasses he killed earlier in his inventory first before he headed back. But before he chased after Marsha, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, looking at where the howl came from.

"I swear to fucking God—I’ll remember this," He rasped with killing intent. "For cock-blocking me, I’ll hunt you all down to extinction! Just you wait, motherfuckers. If I fail to hunt all of you down, don’t call me a man!"