Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 134
In a place where only the two of them remained, their passion continued endlessly.
Several times, Irene, unable to withstand the intensity, felt herself on the verge of fainting.
Each time, Michael, as if sensing her condition like a phantom, would stop his movements.
Irene couldnât tell if it was consideration or stubbornness on his part.
If only she could lose consciousness, she wouldnât have to feel this overwhelming pleasure.
It was as though Michael wanted her to remember every moment with him, driving her only to the brink of fainting but not beyond.
She lost count of how many times they had continued. She had counted up to the fifth time but soon gave up, realizing it was meaningless to keep track.
What felt like an eternity finally came to an end, with Irene teetering on the edge of passing out.
She wanted to wash her body, which was now covered with traces of both of them, but she couldnât even move a finger.
Michael, who must have also been somewhat exhausted after their exertion, didnât show any signs of it as he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the lake.
As the cool water enveloped her, Irene shivered and instinctively clung to Michael.
Apparently pleased by this, he took his time, washing her thoroughly and carefully, even more leisurely than usual.
After they finished bathing, Michael rummaged through his bag, taking out dry clothes and using them to pat her body dry in place of a towel. Then, still undressed, he embraced her tightly.
After their intense encounter, the cool water washed away their heat, and drowsiness soon overtook her.
With no reason to resist, Irene drifted into deep slumber in his arms.
Michael watched Irene, fast asleep, using his arm as her pillow.
Her body, which he had left his marks on time and time again, was covered with red marks and bruises.
It should have made him feel sorry for her, but instead, Michaelâs face was filled with a satisfied smile as he looked at her.
âIrene.â
He called her name as if it was the sweetest thing in the world.
âIrene.â
Michael called her name once more.
A name he could call without any hesitation or awkwardness.
Even after calling her name twice, Irene only sank deeper into sleep, breathing softly.
Thankfully, his voice hadnât disturbed her rest.
Confirming that his voice didnât reach her, he gathered a bit more courage.
âMy wife.â
Michael uttered those words with great difficulty.
A person he thought he could never have as long as he lived as Michael.
His eyes slowly began to take on a deep, shadowy hue.
âEven in this life, you accept me until the very end, despite the hardship.â
Michael was indescribably grateful for that fact.
He recalled the moments he had shared with Irene just a while ago.
With every movement he made, she gasped for breath, caught between the peak of pleasure and struggle.
Though he knew better than anyone that his movements pushed her to her limits, Michael continued to thrust with all his strength.
Each time, her tear-filled eyes would look at him, calling his name.
It was more addictive than the most potent of drugs in the world.
He reached out, gently brushing back the strands of hair from the sleeping womanâs face. Her long, silvery hair fell to her waist.
From the first moment he saw it, he thought it resembled the moon in the night sky.
Perhaps that was why he thought of it even more vividly at night.
As he continued to arrange her damp hair, he let out a bittersweet smile and murmured to himself.
âThis must be your second life.â
His somber gaze began to take on a hint of red.
âPlease⌠let it be so.â
A thick aura of miasma began to surround him.
âI pray youâll never know the countless hells Iâve been through.â
Michael tried to recall the memories of his first life, so distant now that he couldnât even count how many years had passed since then.
