I Thought It Was the Monster Duke's Fake Sedative - Chapter 27

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 27
A hollow laugh escaped him at the thought of that small-handed woman touching herself, fidgeting with her own body.
If she liked him, she’d like his body too.
‘Then I suppose I should show her some generosity.’
Edward had become remarkably indulgent with this small creature, even having known her but a short while.
He’d initiated kisses he’d never imagined giving to anyone; he felt no displeasure when she scrubbed his armor carelessly with her dirty sleeves, nor when their bodies pressed together—in fact, such contact felt rather welcome.
More than that, each touch seemed to purify his taint, so it was nothing but gain for Edward.
‘At the very least, this much reward is fitting.’
Letting her wash his body would surely be a reward for Lucy.
How could she dislike touching the body of someone she loved?
Yet the woman had taken her time, dragging it out considerably.
“This is my first time bathing someone else, so I practiced alone for a bit, you see! Hehe!”
His sour mood lifted at those words.
Her first time.
Then she’d never done this for anyone else.
‘But she said she was practicing.’
Could she have been practicing on her own body? Rehearsing bathing him?
What unfolded next was the sight of a small, pale creature meticulously washing herself.
Trimming her whiskers, scrubbing diligently behind her ears, bustling about with tiny chirps.
Blinking her dark eyes and proudly displaying that she’d washed those too.
“…Hck.”
He’d fought to suppress his laughter at the sight—so utterly trivial, so achingly cute.
‘So that’s how she practices.’
To wash him, she’d undressed and done it herself directly….
…The problem arose precisely there.
In his mind’s eye, the small mouse washing herself transformed instantly into a small, soft woman.
The imagined woman was undressing to practice washing.
Her adorably cute face, her body softer and more voluptuous than expected, revealed in the gaps between falling clothes—that single moment.
“Haah.”
Edward clenched his fist, a bitter laugh slipping from him.
Their contact was meant to be for Purification alone, wasn’t it?
Yet once an image bloomed in his mind, it didn’t fade easily.
He remembered the feel of Lucy’s head cradled against him.
His perfect body had remembered even that sensation with perfect, unnecessary clarity.
The sensation of soft flesh—plump enough to half-cover his face, substantial despite her lean frame….
In the moment he bit his lower lip and struggled to reimpose the mouse mask onto the imagined woman,
the bathroom door squeaked open.
The woman stepped inside.
Small footsteps approached from behind him, tap by quiet tap.
How they’d crossed that threshold afterward, he couldn’t recall.
A low sound rumbled from his throat.
He stared rigidly ahead, teeth gritted.
The Sponge moved freely across his broad back, then stopped at his waist.
Over the place where old, hateful scars lay—deep wounds.
A scar he habitually pretended didn’t exist.
A scar even his most trusted adjutants had never seen.
In that instant of realization, his mind went cold.
‘What did I allow?’
Reason returned, and he was about to rise and send her out immediately.
“…Let me give you a little service!”
She moved suddenly, and reason shattered again.
An unbearable heat flowed through the contact of their skin.
The scar drank in vitality hungrily, setting his entire body ablaze.
Desire rose above the vanished reason.
The desire to sink his teeth into her neck.
“Mgh…!”
Hearing her impossibly adorable moan, Edward surrendered to the whispers of instinct.
He pulled the squirming woman into his embrace, indulging in the softness of her cheeks, thrusting his tongue into her small mouth.
“Mgh, mm….”
As he sucked her lips and bit without mercy at the shameless, coquettish tongue she played against him, a deep satisfaction bloomed.
When Edward realized the woman wasn’t pushing him away—that she was, in fact, pressing her tongue against his—something detonated in his mind.
“Haah.”
The woman was, as expected, impossibly small.
Her eyes wouldn’t close, her mouth wouldn’t stop babbling, that seductive tongue of hers—all of it….
‘So small.’
And soft. Exactly as soft as he’d imagined.
Perhaps even softer than imagination.
He wanted to touch her more.
A violent urge surged through him—to caress her, to swallow her whole—one so primal it made scales rise along his spine instead of down. The Dragon’s Instinct, pure and overwhelming.
Nothing could match its power.
‘I want to take her inside me.’
He wanted to grip the soft, swelling flesh gathering at his fingertips with both hands.
Edward’s lips descended further, pressing against her pulse-point at the throat.
“Ah…!”
The moment he bared his teeth slightly, her body trembled in his arms, and her grip on his neck tightened instinctively.
He couldn’t tell anymore whether he wanted to bite into this throat or mark her with his touch.
Moving his tongue slowly, tracing the vein that leapt beneath her skin, he felt the exquisite tingle bloom across his tongue’s edge.
That too, was deeply satisfying.
“Haah.”
Lucy was still completely lost to sensation.
She had no chance to understand what was happening.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
Her loosened tongue felt sweet and electric against the roof of her mouth for reasons she couldn’t fathom.
When Edward finally withdrew his lips from her neck with a long breath, she felt the sharp sting of disappointment.
‘Should I ask him to do it once more?’
As long as they didn’t go all the way, it would be fine, wouldn’t it?
It’s only a kiss, after all….
The instant that thought crossed her mind.
Edward’s hand—as if seized by sudden resolve—moved without hesitation to grip her thigh.
“Hngh!”
No, they couldn’t go that far….
But her hand, stretched out in protest, simply dissolved into weakness at the sensation of his palm against her thigh.
Each time his strong hand gripped the soft flesh, she felt it bulge between his fingers.
Even though he was merely squeezing and releasing, a tingling heat bloomed between her legs.
‘No, no, yes, yes….’
So this was how the “no-no-no-yes” from novels actually happened.
In that moment of revelation, as Edward lifted her skirt and hooked his fingers through her underwear—
“Hnngh!”
Lucy gasped aloud without meaning to.
Edward’s hand froze. His entire body went rigid, as if he’d just realized something.
His fingers stilled, suspended with the bewilderment of someone who didn’t understand what he’d just touched.
‘What is this?’
Lucy looked up at Edward and felt a flutter of confusion.
‘Why….’
Why did he suddenly look so disappointed?
But Edward’s question came before Lucy could pursue the thought.
“Why.”
“…….”
“Why are you wearing it?”
“I… what?”
As she stared at Edward’s serious face and tried to process what she’d just heard.
A sudden wave of scalding heat crashed through her—as if the hot bathwater itself had rushed backward into her body.
Drip.
“…….”
“…….”
A thin trickle of red ran from her small nose.
Lucy touched beneath her nose absently and mumbled through her half-slack tongue.
“What…? Why is….”
Pop.
And then she lost consciousness.
* * *
A few days later.
“Cough, hack, cough, cough!”
Patter-patter-patter.
Small feet struck the Training Ground with each cough, the sound slicing through the cold dawn air.
The voice trailing behind spoke with measured calm.
“You’re slowing down.”
“I’m… I’m going to die…”
“You won’t die from this.”
‘But I’m going to!’
Lucy ran across the Training Ground, grinding her teeth while swallowing back tears.
‘This wasn’t even in the contract…’
That day—right after she’d regained consciousness in the bathtub.
Lucy’s eyes had met Edward’s, who was looking down at her with an expression that suggested her body was utterly worthless.
“Exercise.”
“Pardon?”
“Do it.”
“Yes, of course.”
The moment she’d nodded, her mind blank, Edward had begun subjecting her to this extreme training the very next day.
‘I did think I needed to build my stamina, but…’
With the constitution of a newborn fawn, Extreme Training was nothing short of torture.
Still, Edward showed no mercy.
“You’re falling behind.”
“If you want to punish me, couldn’t you choose a different method?”
“Can you handle it?”
What exactly was she supposed to handle?
Seized by a chill, Lucy forced herself to run faster, moving like a fleeing mouse.
The laughter drifting from behind was anything but refreshing—it was terrifying. And as she grew terrified, a fresh wave of indignation swept over her.
While Lucy gasped and ran, Edward kept his eyes fixed on her small retreating figure.
‘She’s far too weak.’
And she’d caused him to have such a dream, no less.
* * *
That day in the bathroom.
In the midst of affectionately sucking at her slender neck, Edward had suddenly realized the woman was still wearing her clothes.
‘Surely not.’
Had she not come in with that intention?
The moment he understood, the woman—who had been growing drowsy—collapsed without warning.
The small body that went limp in his arms felt impossibly light.
At the same instant, Edward’s heart had sunk like a stone.
Lucy never knew it, but that day had been the busiest the physician of Duke of Teseron’s Estate had worked in years, driven by Edward’s relentless demands.
The man who usually collected wages for doing nothing—his master never fell ill—suddenly found himself burdened with a patient of devastating fragility.
“Your Grace. The examination is complete…”
“Is it a serious condition?”
“Well, the thing is…”
“Tell me it’s not incurable, or you’ll regret it.”
The physician shook his head before the veiled threat that wasn’t quite a threat.
Then he opened his mouth.
“It is quite serious…”
“Serious?”
Physical Stamina Deficiency.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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