Side Story 10. The Sound of Brilliant Light
The ice in the glass melted.
Bjorn glanced at the sound. The light reflected from the crystal glass at the end of the table sparkled in the endlessly flowing afternoon.
Bjorn, who had been trying to refill his empty glass, turned back to the papers in his hand. The rhythmic, irritating clatter suddenly ceased for a moment.
Bjorn frowned unconsciously, staring at the glass lying in the sunlight. The rounded ice remained quietly within the glass, and once again, that clear sound tickled his ears.
The direction is different.
Bjorn suddenly noticed this and turned his head, and almost simultaneously, a shadow appeared beyond the translucent curtain drawn over the bed.
“Erna...?”
Still in disbelief, Bjorn whispered the name as if asking a question. The woman, lowering her eyes and smiling shyly, was undoubtedly his wife, Erna.
Erna, catching her breath, approached the bed. With each step, a clear, delicate sound echoed. Bjorn, who noticed a glittering piece of jewelry on her slender ankle, let out a laugh, his strength fading.
“Hello, Lady Lorca.”
He leaned back against the cushions, arms crossed loosely. Erna placed the cloak she was holding on the edge of the bed, took a few steps back, and stood up straight with her shoulders.
“How about me?”
“Are you sure you’re not going to meet the Queen wearing that?”
"Yes. It's a gift from the Queen herself. It's the customary custom here when inviting distinguished guests, and everyone was delighted that I did it. Of course, I also confirmed with Lord Bayer that it complies with Letzen's diplomatic protocol."
Despite her confident demeanor, Erna's voice was slightly trembling.
Bjorn reached out, brushing back the hair that tickled his forehead, and took hold of his glass. Only when he felt the glass against his lips did he remember that it was empty.
Bjorn let out a sigh that resembled the afternoon breeze warmed by the sun, tilting his empty glass and taking a sip of ice. Erna, who was staring at him intently, had grown a little more flushed.
Bjorn lazily rolled the ice on his tongue, admiring the gift bestowed by Queen Lorca. The women's clothing here was nothing new, but the fact that it was Erna who wore it aroused a refreshing interest. His wife certainly possessed a knack for surprising, bold actions.
Lorca's clothes, as dazzling as a peacock's feathers, surprisingly suited Erna perfectly. The jewelry, adorned with large jewels, and the veil, lavishly embroidered with gold thread. The blue of her clothes resembles Erna's eyes. Her skin seemed especially pale today, perhaps because of the dazzling colors she adorned.
Bjorn's gaze, filled with satisfaction, paused for a moment on her waist, visible beneath her short top. Then, slowly lowering, he finally reached her ankles, adorned with gold jewelry. It seemed the thin gold dangling from them was creating the clinking sound. While it was somewhat confusing, one thing was certain: Lorca was a true ally.
“Hey... Bjorn?”
Erna's tense voice was carried on the sweet breeze. Bjorn swallowed the melted ice and looked up again.
“Is it very strange?”
A soft sunlight shone over Erna, who was fidgeting nervously with her clasped hands.
“All the Lorca royals praised me, especially my ankles.”
"Ankle?"
"Yes. They said my ankles were really pretty. It's a little embarrassing to say that, but in Lorca, it's a compliment to a beautiful woman."
Erna, though embarrassed, continued to speak slowly. If you look closely, she was a woman with a rather shameless side.
Bjorn suddenly found the situation amusing and let out a chuckle. Erna, who smiled back, lifted the hem of her dress slightly and wiggled her pretty ankle. Her flushed cheeks and earlobes made the provocation seem even more daring.
Erna, now a little more daring, began to sway gently along the balcony railing. Bjorn, who had been staring at her anklet, jangling as she walked, let out a soft, empty laugh.
That clumsy gesture, what should I say? It was so blatant that it was almost embarrassing to even call it seduction. Perhaps it was a declaration of war, a threat, that she would absolutely seduce him. Well, some foolish kids get caught up in that, after all.
Bjorn sat up, crunching the ice that had been rolling on his tongue. With a small gesture, Erna, who had ceased her combative seduction, hurried over and stood before the bed. Her eyes, anticipating praise, sparkled like jewels.
To be helplessly entangled in a woman whose every thought is so transparently visible.
Bjorn let out a deep sigh, filled with a heat that even a shard of ice couldn't erase, and grabbed Erna's wrist, pulling her closer. Erna's small, startled scream shook the tranquility that had reigned over the languid afternoon.
Bjorn swallowed Erna's lips in one gulp as she sat on top of him. He removed her cumbersome veil and held tightly to the back of her hair, which had been meticulously styled by a skilled maid.
“Bjorn, wait, this is...”
The words Erna barely managed to utter vanished from Bjorn's lips before they could even finish. The sound of the ornaments swaying with each sway of her body only intensified his already fervent desire.
Bjorn, who momentarily released Erna's breathless, panting lips, grabbed her shoulder and tugged her trembling hand, guiding her down. He smiled slowly, looking at Erna, who flinched. He hoped this surrender would please the pretty deer with its beautiful ankles. Even as he moaned softly at the sensations her hesitant fingertips evoked, his gaze, fixed firmly on Erna, remained unwavering.
Erna, blushing with embarrassment, answered by gently placing her hand on his.
The gold bracelet on her slender wrist swayed gently.
It was like the sound of light.
Bjorn accepted the rather sentimental thought with resignation. He felt no other words could express the feeling he had at that moment.
The sound that had stopped for a moment began to resume with a groan filled with moisture.
Bjorn opened his eyes, which had been closed tightly, and gasped for breath. Erna, sitting on top of him, swayed, her expression now looking as if she were about to cry. The trembling lips called his name, her cries, and the clumsy movements of her body, accompanied by the clinking of ornaments, played like beautiful music.
Bjorn raised his eyes, clouded by heat, and gazed at Erna, who towered over him. The light of the jewels remaining on her naked body was dazzling.
As he thrust his hips upward, as if chasing the light, Erna groaned, shaking her head. He understood the meaning behind her pleading gaze, but unfortunately, it was difficult to grant her plea. Erna was particularly embarrassed about climbing on top of him, which was partly why Bjorn enjoyed such moments.
Erna let out a hot sigh and placed both hands on his shoulders, steadying her trembling body. "It's okay," Bjorn whispered sweet lies, guiding Erna along. Erna, draped over his waist, was beautiful. Her eyes, hazy with fever, her rims red, even the beads of sweat forming on her rippling chest, were all beautiful.
The late afternoon sunlight was now tinted with honey.
Erna, who had collapsed after letting out a scream, was laid on the bed by Bjorn, who immediately climbed on top of her. He kissed her ankle, which he held tightly, and Erna opened her eyes. Sunlight filtered through the swaying curtains, falling on the thin, trembling gold pieces.
Bjorn etched bite marks all over her ankles, where beautiful chains were wrapped. He paid no attention to Erna's pleas and begging.
A ridiculous urge surged through him, a desire to devour this woman from head to toe. No, it felt like a desire to worship her. The urge to dominate and the yearning to willingly submit were a jumbled mess, swirling around in his head.
As if to erase all that confusion, Bjorn dove into Erna, who was panting and slumped over. He completely entered her, embracing her small, trembling body. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He found it ludicrous how desperately he'd become for the woman he'd already embraced countless times, yet he loved Erna so much. With that one conclusion, Bjorn erased all reason.
“You’re selfish, my wife.”
“Stop,” Bjorn whispered softly, kissing Erna’s wet eyes as she sobbed.
“It’s my turn now.”
His voice was infinitely affectionate, but there was no longer any warmth left in his eyes.
Erna, unable to respond, simply swayed beneath Bjorn, who began to thrust his hips impatiently and fiercely. Unable to withstand the force, her body kept being pushed back, and he grabbed her tightly and pulled her toward him.
Obsessed with desire, he delved in too quickly. A sensation, somewhat like pain, burst from deep within her stomach and consumed Erna.
Erna wrenched the tassels of the cushion beneath her body and let out an uncontrollable scream. The anxiety of the space opening onto the garden only amplified the dizzying pleasure.
Erna's gaze, wandering over the white curtains draped over the canopy of the bed, stopped on the man who was shaking her whole being. Every time she unconsciously tightened her lower abdomen, Bjorn's brow furrowed, a stifled breath and a groan escaped his lips.
Erna stared blankly at the obscenely beautiful face staring down at her. She wished he'd tell her she did well, that she was beautiful, that he loved her. And now, Bjorn's eyes, fixated solely on Erna, spoke. All those wishes had come true.
I liked him, the way he was so distracted by his own desires. I also liked myself for making him desire me.
It was good.
Erna loved this moment of savage love so much that she even forgot her last shame.
"It hurts?"
Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he observed Erna, who was trembling and sobbing. Erna shook her head, reached out, placed the drink on the cushion, and cupped his sweat-soaked cheek.
Tell me, Erna.
Bjorn often said.
She knows that's this man's true feelings. She also knows that she shouldn't expect anyone to understand and fathom his unspoken truth.
So, she doesn't want him to know this feeling...
“...Yes, good.”
Erna whispered, sobbing. Tears streamed down her cheeks and ears with every blink.
“I love you so much. Don’t stop.”
Erna hugged him without thinking, confessing with all the courage she had.
After a brief pause, Bjorn let out a harsh curse, making Erna flinch. A short, sigh-like laugh followed.
Is something wrong?
In that moment of sudden anxiety, her body floated up. Only when she saw Bjorn face-to-face did Erna realize he had lifted her up and embraced her. His eyes, breathing heavily, were strangely cold and sullen. That face made Erna feel intimidated.
“Can’t we do this?”
Erna asked, panting thinly.
“You don’t like this kind of thing?”
As the silence grew longer, she began to feel a little scared.
Perhaps a lady shouldn't utter indecent words in the bedroom? But that's so unfair.
Bjorn, who had been quietly watching Erna flounder, at a loss for what to do, let out a hot breath and laughed. Then, as if he were snatching prey, he grabbed Erna by the nape of her neck and entangled their tongues. The fierce force and heat were terrifying, but he wasn't allowed to say such things.
The sound of the brilliant light shattering, clinking, clinking, now began to shake the tropical afternoon like a nervous bell.
The ice in the glass melted.
Bjorn glanced at the sound. The light reflected from the crystal glass at the end of the table sparkled in the endlessly flowing afternoon.
Bjorn, who had been trying to refill his empty glass, turned back to the papers in his hand. The rhythmic, irritating clatter suddenly ceased for a moment.
Bjorn frowned unconsciously, staring at the glass lying in the sunlight. The rounded ice remained quietly within the glass, and once again, that clear sound tickled his ears.
The direction is different.
Bjorn suddenly noticed this and turned his head, and almost simultaneously, a shadow appeared beyond the translucent curtain drawn over the bed.
“Erna...?”
Still in disbelief, Bjorn whispered the name as if asking a question. The woman, lowering her eyes and smiling shyly, was undoubtedly his wife, Erna.
Erna, catching her breath, approached the bed. With each step, a clear, delicate sound echoed. Bjorn, who noticed a glittering piece of jewelry on her slender ankle, let out a laugh, his strength fading.
“Hello, Lady Lorca.”
He leaned back against the cushions, arms crossed loosely. Erna placed the cloak she was holding on the edge of the bed, took a few steps back, and stood up straight with her shoulders.
“How about me?”
“Are you sure you’re not going to meet the Queen wearing that?”
"Yes. It's a gift from the Queen herself. It's the customary custom here when inviting distinguished guests, and everyone was delighted that I did it. Of course, I also confirmed with Lord Bayer that it complies with Letzen's diplomatic protocol."
Despite her confident demeanor, Erna's voice was slightly trembling.
Bjorn reached out, brushing back the hair that tickled his forehead, and took hold of his glass. Only when he felt the glass against his lips did he remember that it was empty.
Bjorn let out a sigh that resembled the afternoon breeze warmed by the sun, tilting his empty glass and taking a sip of ice. Erna, who was staring at him intently, had grown a little more flushed.
Bjorn lazily rolled the ice on his tongue, admiring the gift bestowed by Queen Lorca. The women's clothing here was nothing new, but the fact that it was Erna who wore it aroused a refreshing interest. His wife certainly possessed a knack for surprising, bold actions.
Lorca's clothes, as dazzling as a peacock's feathers, surprisingly suited Erna perfectly. The jewelry, adorned with large jewels, and the veil, lavishly embroidered with gold thread. The blue of her clothes resembles Erna's eyes. Her skin seemed especially pale today, perhaps because of the dazzling colors she adorned.
Bjorn's gaze, filled with satisfaction, paused for a moment on her waist, visible beneath her short top. Then, slowly lowering, he finally reached her ankles, adorned with gold jewelry. It seemed the thin gold dangling from them was creating the clinking sound. While it was somewhat confusing, one thing was certain: Lorca was a true ally.
“Hey... Bjorn?”
Erna's tense voice was carried on the sweet breeze. Bjorn swallowed the melted ice and looked up again.
“Is it very strange?”
A soft sunlight shone over Erna, who was fidgeting nervously with her clasped hands.
“All the Lorca royals praised me, especially my ankles.”
"Ankle?"
"Yes. They said my ankles were really pretty. It's a little embarrassing to say that, but in Lorca, it's a compliment to a beautiful woman."
Erna, though embarrassed, continued to speak slowly. If you look closely, she was a woman with a rather shameless side.
Bjorn suddenly found the situation amusing and let out a chuckle. Erna, who smiled back, lifted the hem of her dress slightly and wiggled her pretty ankle. Her flushed cheeks and earlobes made the provocation seem even more daring.
Erna, now a little more daring, began to sway gently along the balcony railing. Bjorn, who had been staring at her anklet, jangling as she walked, let out a soft, empty laugh.
That clumsy gesture, what should I say? It was so blatant that it was almost embarrassing to even call it seduction. Perhaps it was a declaration of war, a threat, that she would absolutely seduce him. Well, some foolish kids get caught up in that, after all.
Bjorn sat up, crunching the ice that had been rolling on his tongue. With a small gesture, Erna, who had ceased her combative seduction, hurried over and stood before the bed. Her eyes, anticipating praise, sparkled like jewels.
To be helplessly entangled in a woman whose every thought is so transparently visible.
Bjorn let out a deep sigh, filled with a heat that even a shard of ice couldn't erase, and grabbed Erna's wrist, pulling her closer. Erna's small, startled scream shook the tranquility that had reigned over the languid afternoon.
Bjorn swallowed Erna's lips in one gulp as she sat on top of him. He removed her cumbersome veil and held tightly to the back of her hair, which had been meticulously styled by a skilled maid.
“Bjorn, wait, this is...”
The words Erna barely managed to utter vanished from Bjorn's lips before they could even finish. The sound of the ornaments swaying with each sway of her body only intensified his already fervent desire.
Bjorn, who momentarily released Erna's breathless, panting lips, grabbed her shoulder and tugged her trembling hand, guiding her down. He smiled slowly, looking at Erna, who flinched. He hoped this surrender would please the pretty deer with its beautiful ankles. Even as he moaned softly at the sensations her hesitant fingertips evoked, his gaze, fixed firmly on Erna, remained unwavering.
Erna, blushing with embarrassment, answered by gently placing her hand on his.
The gold bracelet on her slender wrist swayed gently.
***
It was like the sound of light.
Bjorn accepted the rather sentimental thought with resignation. He felt no other words could express the feeling he had at that moment.
The sound that had stopped for a moment began to resume with a groan filled with moisture.
Bjorn opened his eyes, which had been closed tightly, and gasped for breath. Erna, sitting on top of him, swayed, her expression now looking as if she were about to cry. The trembling lips called his name, her cries, and the clumsy movements of her body, accompanied by the clinking of ornaments, played like beautiful music.
Bjorn raised his eyes, clouded by heat, and gazed at Erna, who towered over him. The light of the jewels remaining on her naked body was dazzling.
As he thrust his hips upward, as if chasing the light, Erna groaned, shaking her head. He understood the meaning behind her pleading gaze, but unfortunately, it was difficult to grant her plea. Erna was particularly embarrassed about climbing on top of him, which was partly why Bjorn enjoyed such moments.
Erna let out a hot sigh and placed both hands on his shoulders, steadying her trembling body. "It's okay," Bjorn whispered sweet lies, guiding Erna along. Erna, draped over his waist, was beautiful. Her eyes, hazy with fever, her rims red, even the beads of sweat forming on her rippling chest, were all beautiful.
The late afternoon sunlight was now tinted with honey.
Erna, who had collapsed after letting out a scream, was laid on the bed by Bjorn, who immediately climbed on top of her. He kissed her ankle, which he held tightly, and Erna opened her eyes. Sunlight filtered through the swaying curtains, falling on the thin, trembling gold pieces.
Bjorn etched bite marks all over her ankles, where beautiful chains were wrapped. He paid no attention to Erna's pleas and begging.
A ridiculous urge surged through him, a desire to devour this woman from head to toe. No, it felt like a desire to worship her. The urge to dominate and the yearning to willingly submit were a jumbled mess, swirling around in his head.
As if to erase all that confusion, Bjorn dove into Erna, who was panting and slumped over. He completely entered her, embracing her small, trembling body. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He found it ludicrous how desperately he'd become for the woman he'd already embraced countless times, yet he loved Erna so much. With that one conclusion, Bjorn erased all reason.
“You’re selfish, my wife.”
“Stop,” Bjorn whispered softly, kissing Erna’s wet eyes as she sobbed.
“It’s my turn now.”
His voice was infinitely affectionate, but there was no longer any warmth left in his eyes.
Erna, unable to respond, simply swayed beneath Bjorn, who began to thrust his hips impatiently and fiercely. Unable to withstand the force, her body kept being pushed back, and he grabbed her tightly and pulled her toward him.
Obsessed with desire, he delved in too quickly. A sensation, somewhat like pain, burst from deep within her stomach and consumed Erna.
Erna wrenched the tassels of the cushion beneath her body and let out an uncontrollable scream. The anxiety of the space opening onto the garden only amplified the dizzying pleasure.
Erna's gaze, wandering over the white curtains draped over the canopy of the bed, stopped on the man who was shaking her whole being. Every time she unconsciously tightened her lower abdomen, Bjorn's brow furrowed, a stifled breath and a groan escaped his lips.
Erna stared blankly at the obscenely beautiful face staring down at her. She wished he'd tell her she did well, that she was beautiful, that he loved her. And now, Bjorn's eyes, fixated solely on Erna, spoke. All those wishes had come true.
I liked him, the way he was so distracted by his own desires. I also liked myself for making him desire me.
It was good.
Erna loved this moment of savage love so much that she even forgot her last shame.
"It hurts?"
Bjorn's eyes narrowed as he observed Erna, who was trembling and sobbing. Erna shook her head, reached out, placed the drink on the cushion, and cupped his sweat-soaked cheek.
Tell me, Erna.
Bjorn often said.
Or maybe not.
So, she doesn't want him to know this feeling...
“...Yes, good.”
Erna whispered, sobbing. Tears streamed down her cheeks and ears with every blink.
“I love you so much. Don’t stop.”
Erna hugged him without thinking, confessing with all the courage she had.
After a brief pause, Bjorn let out a harsh curse, making Erna flinch. A short, sigh-like laugh followed.
Is something wrong?
In that moment of sudden anxiety, her body floated up. Only when she saw Bjorn face-to-face did Erna realize he had lifted her up and embraced her. His eyes, breathing heavily, were strangely cold and sullen. That face made Erna feel intimidated.
“Can’t we do this?”
Erna asked, panting thinly.
“You don’t like this kind of thing?”
As the silence grew longer, she began to feel a little scared.
Perhaps a lady shouldn't utter indecent words in the bedroom? But that's so unfair.
Bjorn, who had been quietly watching Erna flounder, at a loss for what to do, let out a hot breath and laughed. Then, as if he were snatching prey, he grabbed Erna by the nape of her neck and entangled their tongues. The fierce force and heat were terrifying, but he wasn't allowed to say such things.
The sound of the brilliant light shattering, clinking, clinking, now began to shake the tropical afternoon like a nervous bell.
Comments
Post a Comment