Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

Orgasms occurred here and there that the room brimmed with erotic noises, and the blood, sweat, and tears brimmed the thick stench of the room with their sensual release.

The heavy storm died out after several times they had reached the peak of their arousal.

Both inside and outside, the noise died out as only their now calm breathing took place along their beating hearts.

Nathalie leaned by the headboard; with the warm comforter covering her body, she pulled her knees close to her chest. 

Back then, she already knew, with all the love bites, nibbles, and bite marks that painted all over her body, there was no pain or discomfort on her part. 

It was as though they never existed.

With the silence prevalent between them, out of nothing to do, she ought to massage her wrists, one at a time, to keep herself busy.

"Are you still hurting?"

Meanwhile, Athan—with his body full of scratches and hickeys—propped his hand on his cheek, sideways, as he was right beside her. His face beamed with warmth as he had yet to avert his gaze away from her.

Yet her body flinched, from the skin to skin, when every inch of her sent electrifying sensations whenever he moved, worse when they were already close to one another with no layer of fabric between them. 

A sudden tingle came from her cheek as his warm breath brushed against her from such close contact.

Nathalie got deep-rooted, and if ever she turned to the side, she knew she would meet his lips.

She had to nip the bud.

Because it would bring the different side of her if she stared at it, let alone sealing them again—once and for all.

"Violette? Are you alright?" he mused once more, and every word made her heart flutter, but the deep contradiction in her mind was too strong that she was thrown in disarray. 

Never did she know her brain would malfunction for this silly reason, or so she thought.

But the stubborn man that Athan was, he went on and on, almost closed the gap to a hair's breadth.

"You're sitting here, frozen," with a husky voice rattled; aside from keeping up the straight face, her body gave up and leaned a tad bit on him. 

This caught him by surprise, but he pressed his lips thin as he pulled the blanket enough to cover them to her neck.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Nathalie ended up nodding; at last, a response, and a positive one at that. He breathed out with a smile before he stole a glance at her slender neck; from the alabaster skin revealed fresh dents surrounded with subtle bruise patches.

Seeing it had his jaws clenched, staring at it numerous times at how big and serious it was right now.

"I apologize if I went overboard—"

[Nope.] Suddenly, she mustered the courage to write, despite the trembling penmanship, in the air.

But Athan tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed into one line. "Nope?"

Outside, she might've kept a calm visage, but from within, she got freaked out as she broke out of character so suddenly. A word he didn't know, nonetheless. 

[I mean nothing, I'm fine.] Then, with quickness, she brushed it off with a dismissive wave of the hand as an attempt to scribble again.

"Ahh...." On the other hand, Athan nodded slowly, seemingly trying to believe her, even though his face screamed it all from a serious note. "I hope you'll do me the honor of treating all these marks of yours."

She looked at him the moment he pulled away from reaching out the pouch laid down on the nightstand; from there, he retrieved a bejeweled box with a strong yet alluring herbal smell gushing out of the rim.

[That's…]

"I know you know this so well," he chuckled, showing it close to her. Upon opening, her face got smothered with a blissful aroma that she could never get tired of using it.

Her lips parted the moment her eyes were on it; that item wasn't worth for all she had—an ultra-rare consumable—a jelly that worked wonders for most ailments, only the likes of the royalties could get a hand of it from foreign trades. Yet, he casually would use them for something that would heal over time when their time got spent together.

Plus, she was the type to have a high pain tolerance.

There was nothing Mystique Blackwell couldn't handle.

[I'd have to decline—]

"Violette," he said. 

Her ears perked up, snapping her eyes wide open, for her attention was on him. She still tried to put up a fight with him, for it wasn't worth it, in which he sighed after he scratched his head.

"If you still don't know how much you mean to me, then I'd say it all over again. I feel so alive again; so crystal clear I have a sound mind now."

The gaze of this prince was so piercing to her heart, so hot she almost had her face sear, and so tantalizing that she almost forgot what she was here for…

"I can't lose you. So please, allow me…."

Perhaps it wasn't a one-way street for Athan for just a contract and a business between them.

Her mind was still stubborn, but her body reacted so differently as she only looked away with a curt hum. Then, against her chest, the crazy beat turned out loud, and she was scared witless if it turned out enough for him to hear.

There was no way she could be so upfront about it.

Even so, Athan let out a hearty laugh. He went close and took his time to stroke a small amount of the herbal jelly onto her bruised neck.

The moment her neck had the swath of the medicine, it released a cool sensation that spread through and through, and it was another round of pleasure enough to let her guard down again.

It was like the sore and burden, as both bore in a good note, pulled out of her body, and dared her to react how she wanted more. "Yes—"

In a slip of the tongue, Athan grinned as he kept up the pace.

He was so devoted to taking care of her; it was a chore—for the first time, he loved doing it.