Sea Monster Stew Chapter 32

She had lost count of how many times she had climaxed. Biche let out a low, choked moan.

The place that had received Muir for so long was throbbing. 

 

Her limbs felt numb, but seeing how her body still arched with pleasure at his every touch, it seemed the feeling hadn’t completely vanished.

“Muir, n-now, stop… Nngh…!”

“Tired already?”

“‘Already’…?”

“Hmm?”

 

‘Has he truly lost his mind? What in the world did he learn while serving under Admiral Moose?’ 

 

Desperately shaking her head, Biche turned her gaze toward the balcony window.

The window, once bathed in the blue light of dawn, now held the brilliant glare of the sun. 

 

Just how much time had passed?

A glance down at her own body revealed a truly devastating state. 

 

Her swollen breasts were covered in bite marks, and her nipples, tormented by his rough fingertips, were painfully swollen.

 

At that moment, his hips suddenly stilled. 

 

A sense of foreboding made Biche quickly turn her head. 

 

Muir was frowning, his gaze fixed intently on her.

“Looks like you have the spare mind to think of something else?”

“N-no, that’s not it… Hah, w-wait…!”

In an instant, both her legs were lifted, her knees bending and her thighs forced wide open. 

 

She tried to stop him in a panic, but as expected, Muir reached without hesitation for her swollen clit.

As his fingers began to rub her there, his movements jolting her to her core, Biche twisted her waist and let out a scream-like cry.

“Muir, hh…! S-stop! Stop…!”

“You weren’t thinking of the Vice-Captain, were you?”

 

“N-no… Why would I…”

Muir stared intently at her frantically shaking head, then slowly rotated his hips.

“If the Vice-Captain saw you like this now, I wonder what his reaction would be.”

“N-no. I don’t… don’t even want to… imagine it…”

Biche grabbed his thick forearm and shook her head violently. “I only want you to see me, Muir. I don’t want anyone else… I only want you…”

“Really?”

“Yes. So… you too, only for me…”

Muir looked at her dazed, unfocused eyes and smiled a satisfied smile. Had it not been for the savage movements of his hips below, it would have seemed like an angelic, beautiful smile.

He slipped a hand behind her back and, still buried deep inside her, effortlessly lifted her small body. 

 

He sat her down on his lap, facing him.

Feeling him sink even deeper inside, Biche let out a pained sound. 

 

With no strength left in her body, she could only barely wrap her limp arms around his broad shoulders.

He patted her delicate back and whispered low in her ear.

“That’s right. From now on, we only have each other.”

“Y-yes…”

“Forget that damned Hildert.”

“You’re the one… nngh… who keeps bringing him up…”

“Enough talk. Promise me.”

“…Okay…”

 

Without fully understanding his meaning, Biche nodded with difficulty. Muir smiled with satisfaction and planted a brief kiss on her lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Muir held Biche tightly, who was purring like a satisfied cat. 

 

The passion he had poured into her now trickled down, tingling against his own skin.

“Muir, move over a bit…”

“No.”

He continued to kiss her white body as she tried belatedly to hide under the covers. 

 

When he deliberately bit her soft skin, making her yelp, Biche shot him a sharp look.

 

“I can’t… anymore… I’m tired. I guess I’m not fully recovered from my illness yet.”

“Who said anything about more? I’m just kissing you.”

“How can I believe that?”

Biche’s gaze fell pointedly to his manhood, which was poking between her buttocks. 

 

Muir rubbed the tip, still smeared with the evidence of their passion, leisurely against the cleft of her buttocks.

He took one of her breasts, which he had toyed with for so long, in his hand and gave it a subtle twist. 

 

She swallowed a low moan and shook her head.

“It hurts…”

“Hurts?”

If she had screamed in protest, he might have wanted to tease her more. But her voice, weak as a mosquito’s wing, tickled Muir’s ears.

He removed his hand from her marked breast and clicked his tongue in regret. 

 

‘She was sick just hours ago.’ 

 

He felt too self-conscious to push his own desires any further.

“Let me see. I think your fever might be coming back…”

Placing a hand on Biche’s rounded forehead, he could feel the heat returning, having subsided earlier thanks to the medicine.

‘Some miracle cure. At daybreak, I’ll have to deal with that bastard Foos first.’

Muir gritted his teeth and covered her naked body with the blanket. 

 

He suddenly hated himself for working a patient who wasn’t fully recovered to the point of exhaustion. 

 

With careful, affectionate hands, he patted her flat stomach.

“What can I do for you? Do you want to wash up?”

“Mmm, wait… my necklace…”

Biche, her eyes heavy with sleep, suddenly fumbled with her necklace. 

 

The locket had been pushed around to her back during their intense movements.

As if the locket was digging into her back, she frowned slightly and pulled it back to the front.

Muir stared intently at the oval locket with its intricate engraving. 

 

He had been so distracted by her soft skin during their lovemaking that he hadn’t paid it any attention.

It was something Biche usually kept hidden under her clothes, but with all her clothes removed, it had kept getting in the way, catching on his fingers the entire time.

Now, the object—more precisely, the complex pattern engraved on it—finally registered. 

 

A golden-maned lion and an oak tree.

‘…I feel like I’ve seen this before…’

 

Tilting his head, Muir knelt at the foot of the bed. 

 

His hand, which had been softly stroking her shining white calf, grabbed her ankle.

He draped one of her limp legs over his shoulder, and the remnants of his explosive passion trickled down her spread thighs.

“What are you doing? Don’t look…”

“Why not? It’s a nice view.”

“Let go.”

“Hold still, I’ll clean you up.”

He smiled contentedly and reached for the glass basin on a nearby cabinet. 

 

Taking the clean washcloth draped over it, he gently wiped away the traces of himself from her white thighs.

Seemingly pleased with his careful touch, Biche buried her face in the pillow. 

 

Seeing her purr like a cat stirred a mischievous impulse in him.

Muir reached toward the nearby cabinet again. 

 

His hand found the jewelry boxes he had brought over while she was lying ill.

He had planned to win her favor by giving her expensive accessories as soon as she woke up. 

 

But she had thrown a fit the moment she saw him in the giant’s hide, leaving no room for such niceties.

With a mischievous smile, he opened one of the boxes. 

 

Inside was a golden ankle chain adorned with a bright ruby. Unfastening the clasp, he began a childish prank.

“This is a piece Admiral Moose acquired from a ship carrying nobles of the Helio Empire.”

“…The Helio Empire?”

“Yes. They say if anyone without the blood of the imperial family tries to wear this on their ankle, the chain will tighten and cut their foot clean off.”

“…”

“Conversely, it’s said to fit perfectly on the ankle of someone with imperial blood… I heard a few pirates who coveted it lost their feet?”

He exaggerated the story, subtly trying to scare her. 

 

He found his own childish prank amusing and kept snickering.

“Shall we see if the rumor is true?”

 

Of course, he had no intention of actually putting the chain on her. 

 

He had once witnessed Moose suffer for days as a chain tightened around her ankle.

He just wanted to see the fierce, angry look on Biche’s face. 

 

He could already picture her adorable, fuming expression. 

 

She would surely jump up, shouting things like, “Do you want to die?” or “Stop it!”

He planned to act completely surprised when she reached for the ankle chain, let her take it easily, then pull her close and kiss her.

 

But the reaction he got was cold and indifferent, unlike what he had expected. 

 

Muir was momentarily flustered by Biche’s fixed, calm gaze. 

 

The mischievous smile plastered on his face quietly vanished.

“Why…?”

“Muir.”

Biche called his alias softly and twisted her ankle. 

 

He readily let go, but the moment he saw her fitting the ankle chain around her foot, he shouted in alarm.

“What are you doing!”

“Muir.”

She sat up and called his alias again. 

 

As Muir rushed forward to remove the chain, she evaded his hand with a calm, moonlit grace.

Just as the rumor said, the ankle chain began to slowly shrink. 

 

But no trace of pain showed on Biche’s face.

The gradually tightening chain finally settled, fitting snugly around her slender ankle. 

 

Muir couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

“Muir. This is an heirloom that has been passed down through the heads of my family for generations.”

“What?”

“It was a wedding gift from the late previous Emperor to my great-grandmother, who was related to the imperial family by marriage.”

 

The moment he heard “imperial family,” he felt a shock like a thunderbolt. Muir’s gaze slowly shifted to the locket necklace Biche was wearing.

He stared blankly at the locket pattern that hadn’t seemed entirely unfamiliar. 

 

Only now did the identity of that lion and oak tree become clear.

‘…That’s the crest of the Helio Imperial Family.’

He had heard that only a handful of families connected to the imperial family by marriage were permitted to use this crest.

 

‘Could it be… she’s from a noble family?’ He had vaguely assumed she was a commoner sold into slavery…