Battle Divorce! - Chapter 12
Maxim’s relentless stream of words was almost as easy as breathing—or more like a bombardment—and Daisy couldn’t let her guard down for even a second.
“And that’s not all. Every night, without fail, I met you in my dreams.”
“……”
“Oh, in case you’re curious. They were, of course, very filthy dreams.”
He said these outrageous things without so much as blinking. In fact, his expression was dead serious.
“Well, I know it’s all new for you. But you’ll get used to it soon enough. I’ll keep calling you Issy until you do.”
Maxim leaned in and murmured languidly at her ear,
“So relax, Issy. Let’s spend a little time getting to know each other better.”
He started to slip off her remaining shoulder strap, and Daisy frantically grabbed his hand.
“W-Wait…!”
“Hm? What is it now?”
A rush of hot breath tickled her ear. Why did he have to breathe right there?
His wicked little game made even the tips of her ears burn, and Daisy instinctively curled her shoulders to protect her neck.
Despite her defensive reaction, Maxim was undeterred. He started planting slow kisses down her neck.
“Ah, are you upset because I get to call you by a pet name and you don’t?”
“Huh? Oh, n-no…”
“Then you should call me by a nickname too. That’s only fair, right?”
“No, I mean, that’s not really—”
“Max? Or whatever you like. Just pick something and call me by it.”
Max? That sounded like a guard dog’s name.
“Yeah, Max is good. Anyway, if you call me, I’ll come running like a loyal dog.”
Actually, Maxim von Waldeck didn’t look like a guard dog… more like a mad dog. The kind that doesn’t even recognize its owner and just goes wild, snapping at anything in reach.
“Call me Max, okay? Max. Come on.”
This wasn’t a suggestion. It was basically an order.
“Ah, ah!”
Suddenly, Maxim hoisted Daisy up over his shoulder and strode to the bed.
Before she could catch her breath, he was on top of her, pinning both her wrists above her head.
“If you want to tame a beast, you start by using its name.”
“W-Wait—hold on…!”
“See? This mutt’s got no manners, trying to climb on top of his master. What do you think we should do about that?”
He called himself the mutt, but looked down at her with the haughty eyes of a master.
Daisy struggled, but his strength was overwhelming. She couldn’t move at all.
He buried his face in her neck, pressing teasing kisses along her skin, and playfully nipped at her shoulder strap with his teeth, tugging at it.
‘Crazy bastard!’
He was hot. Her lower stomach was already burning, making her feel faint.
He’s big. Too big. If that thing between his legs really went in, she was sure she’d split in two.
Nothing she did was working. What was she supposed to do now? Should she just kick him in the balls?
But even if she did, would that even stop him? That e******n looked unstoppable.
She had no idea what to do. She just wanted to cry.
‘…Wait. Should I just cry?’
Suddenly, Daisy remembered a little girl named Vicky at the orphanage, who always cried when things got tough.
“Vicky, why do you always cry?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Sister promise to keep it. Will you tell me?”
Trying to coax her, Daisy had asked for her secret, and Vicky had answered with a pout.
“Because when I cry… people listen to me, at least.”
Right. Back then, Daisy had just hugged her and patted her back until she stopped crying.
But now, Daisy realized Vicky had a point. Sister Sophia always said sometimes children were the most intuitive and wise.
Tears did make people pause, even just for a moment. Sometimes, crying was the simplest way out.
“M-Max…”
With voice shaking, Daisy called out the nickname. Maxim’s eyes widened just a little.
