ANMELDENOn the next drawing, the sketch shifted to show Isolde kneeling, inserting Azriel's large manhood into her wide-open mouth. And on the final sheet, which most made Isolde's chest heave in a crazy rhythm, there appeared the figure of Isolde in a high arching sitting position with both legs opened wide to the sides. Azriel's self was depicted as entering and exiting from inside Isolde's intercourse canal, complete with detailed strokes of fluid mixed with droplets of blood flowing around her inner thighs.The details of the shading were so real, so detailed, exposing every corner of their body anatomy with extreme precision."How is it?" Azriel asked in a tone of voice that suddenly turned very hoarse, his pale face now only a few centimeters away from Isolde's completely flushed ear. "Do you want to try doing it with me now or not? It seems... this will feel very fun."Isolde still stood frozen, her voluptuous body stiff on top of the mattress with a gaze still transfixed on the last s
Isolde was still wiping her lips, which felt slightly swollen and wet due to Evander's rough actions a few minutes ago. Her heart was beating fast, leaving a hot sensation that spread strangely along her blood vessels. Her passion, which had been ignited by the forced devouring earlier, was now held back at the threshold, making her feel restless on the hospital bed.The door to the inpatient room was pushed open softly again. By reflex, Isolde straightened her back, preparing to scold if the one who came was Evander again. However, the frown on her forehead slowly relaxed upon seeing a thin figure stepping inside while cradling a black leather-bound sketchbooks against his chest.Azriel walked closer with steps that were nearly soundless. "How is your condition?" Azriel asked in a flat and expressionless tone of voice, yet his pair of dark eyes stared intently toward Isolde's wrist, which was still pierced by an IV needle. "Aunt Hiyuni said your body temperature was very hot earlier.
Lucien was still standing motionless in the corner of the hospital room, watching how the silver spoon in Isolde’s left hand moved constantly without pause. The corner of the woman’s mouth was now even slightly smeared with the savory broth of the porridge.“So my guess wasn’t wrong after all. You really were starving, not sick,” Lucien sneered in a heavy voice, although his gray eyes no longer emitted a dense spark of anger.Isolde swallowed her last bite with difficulty before finally looking up boldly. “See? It’s true! I’ve been starving to death all this time!” Isolde retorted bluntly, using the back of her left hand to wipe the remaining soup at the corner of her lips without the slightest hint of embarrassment.Isolde’s eating style was casual, messy, and far from upper-class dining etiquette standards. She did not try at all to act sweet or graceful like the young ladies from elite families who usually surrounded Lucien’s life. However, that natural, non-hypocritical sight unex
The sharp scent of antiseptic and floor-cleaning solution immediately assaulted the senses as soon as the door to the VIP ward closed tightly. Isolde lay weakly on the hospital bed covered with a clean white sheet, with a bottle of clear liquid now hanging from the iron stand, dripping medicine drop by drop through an IV needle inserted into the back of her right hand.The middle-aged doctor in his white coat stepped back, slipping the stethoscope into his pocket while adjusting the position of his frameless glasses. His breath sounded relieved as he turned toward Lucien, who was standing upright near the large window.“How is her condition?” Lucien asked in a heavy voice, low and full of impatient pressure. His arms were tightly crossed in front of his broad chest.The doctor gave a thin smile, trying to soften the intimidating atmosphere emanating from the owner of the hospital foundation. “The young lady is only experiencing mild dehydration and symptoms of starvation, Sir Lucien,”
The morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains of the grand dining room of Blackthorne Mansion. The aroma of Arabica coffee and buttered toast filled the air. The three young masters of the Blackthorne family were already seated in their respective places around the long marble table, yet one chair at the end of the table remained conspicuously empty.Lucien cut the ham on his plate with elegant yet forceful movements of his knife. "That adopted girl still hasn't come down yet?" Lucien asked in an exceptionally cold tone, his gray eyes glancing sharply at the wall clock, which already showed seven o'clock in the morning.Evander, who was spreading chocolate jam on his toast, let out a quiet snort. "Maybe her legs still hurt too much for her to walk, Lucien," Evander replied as he casually leaned his upright back against the chair."Or she's doing it on purpose," Azriel added flatly, his pale fingers tapping lightly against the surface of his porcelain teacup. "She know
The roar of the black Rolls-Royce's engine finally died down as its wheels came to a complete stop at the main lobby of Blackthorne Mansion. The car door was immediately opened wide by Martin from the outside. Isolde remained motionless in the corner of her seat, hugging her trembling knees as the remnants of her sobbing gradually subsided, leaving salty streaks on her dirty cheeks."Come on, get out, Sweet Miss," Evander coaxed in a low voice that, for some reason, sounded a little gentler than usual.The well-built man extended his muscular arm into the car cabin. On the other side of the door, Azriel was already standing upright, offering his pale, cold hand to help Isolde out. With awkward and hesitant movements, Isolde placed both of her hands into the hands of the two men."Ow..." Isolde whimpered, her rosy lips hissing softly as her bare feet touched the cold marble floor of the lobby. An intense stinging pain instantly shot through her scraped wounds, piercing all the way to t







