Next Time We Meet, I’ll Let You Kill Me - Chapter 7

Even though the tender flesh had split and begun to bleed, the pain itself felt distant. Liselotte lifted her dazed eyes and looked up at Hugo.

Strange. She’d never felt anything like this while working.

Wanting another taste of that brief flick of his tongue, wanting to suck him properly just once. In other words, forgetting the mission and simply… finding him unbearably erotic.

Was I really this weak to a man’s outer shell?

Thinking back, that wasn’t exactly the case. If it were only about a handsome face and nice body, hadn’t she once had a target who lured women with his good looks and trafficked them?

He had only given her a light kiss on the cheek, yet she’d been so repulsed she snapped his neck on the spot. But Hugo Schwartz… why was he….

‘You want to touch me, don’t you?’

She didn’t know whether it was because he’d groped her butt or because she’d kissed him one‑sidedly, but her panties had gotten a little wet. Comparing that to Hugo’s utterly calm lower body made her feel like she had been defeated completely.

No. That wasn’t the real issue right now.

If he truly had no interest in women, she’d have to switch the chef’s gender. How should she ask? Liselotte cautiously opened her mouth.

“Hugo, by any chance….”

“You need ointment. Where’s the first-aid kit?”

Hugo glanced around the living room once, then casually headed to the bathroom. While Liselotte sat there absentmindedly touching her lips, Hugo quickly found the kit on a shelf and came out holding a blue tube of ointment.

‘Did I even own something like that?’

Since she kept bruise ointments of every kind, she didn’t think much of it.

Hugo plopped down heavily on the green sofa and beckoned with one finger. Even his gesture to come closer was unbearably arrogant.

“I’ll put it on. Sit.”

He jerked his chin toward his thigh. Pretending she had no choice, Liselotte slipped between his spread legs and sat down on one side. She had to adjust her position because the firm surface felt unfamiliar.

His chest and thighs, too, unexpectedly; Hugo’s body was unexpectedly good. It wasn’t just that he was tall with broad shoulders; he actually had a fair amount of muscle.

Judging from his lifestyle, there was no way he should be in good shape. Did he work out at home or something?

Sitting on Hugo’s lap, she was thinking that when he lifted his index finger. He must’ve squeezed the ointment onto it already; a rounded blob of cloudy ointment clung to the tip of his glove.

The way he dabbed it on her split lips was unexpectedly careful. It didn’t suit his nickname as a madman at all.

“Does it sting?”

“…No.”

For some reason, she felt flustered and was just about to tell him that was enough when, without warning, his finger pushed straight into her mouth.

“Suck it.”

“….”

Of course. This must’ve been his goal.

His tone was as calm as when he’d asked her for water. Wondering if he was playing around, she stared at him in disbelief, but Hugo wasn’t smiling at all.

“Come on.”

His long finger, which had invaded her mouth without hesitation, pressed firmly down on her tongue as if urging her to move. Liselotte grabbed his wrist and scowled hard.

“Uh, it’s… ugh….”

She wanted to say it tasted bitter from the ointment, but the mangled sounds were no different from a babbling infant’s.

The medicinal taste mixed with the oily scent of his leather glove made a faint nausea rise. She twisted her head to pull away, but his hand followed every movement.

“The bet isn’t over yet. You failed the kiss, so we’re moving on to the next part. Isn’t that right?”

Then take the glove off at least!

Her silent scream turned into a furious expression, but he ignored it completely and kept moving his finger. He flipped his hand and gently scratched her palate, then tapped against her teeth.

“Mm, mmh.”

Liselotte gripped Hugo’s wrist tightly to signal him to stop. But his iron‑hard arm didn’t budge, and the hand around her waist tightened enough to press into her stomach.

She didn’t want to drool all over with her mouth open, so she had no choice but to gather her lips and swallow with a small gulp. As the bitter taste slid down her throat, her insides churned.

She couldn’t exactly bite it clean off either. The bastard should be grateful this wasn’t an assassination mission.

Even while glaring daggers at him, Liselotte diligently moved her tongue. She dragged her tongue along the full length of his finger and sucked hard enough to hollow her cheeks. She just wanted to finish quickly.

“….”

Throughout the entire act of licking his finger until the glove turned slick, Hugo stared straight at her. Just like when they kissed, she couldn’t understand why he looked at people with such unblinking intensity.

The way his gaze collided with hers head‑on snared her like a noose. When she looked deeply into those dark eyes, the calm she’d barely regained wavered helplessly.

Yes. Those eyes. That chilling gaze that faintly reminded her of a snake. That was the real cause of the inexplicable rise of lust.

“You’re good.”

The praise, spoken in a deeper tone, brushed against her ear. Hugo’s expression had sunk into something unreadable.

“You must’ve sucked a lot.”

He didn’t name what, but she knew exactly what he meant.

Watching Hugo pull his finger away without hesitation, Liselotte pressed her swollen lips together. Maybe she shouldn’t have done so well.

“That’s not… ah!”

Her body suddenly lifted into the air, and startled, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Hugo carried her with no strain at all and began walking toward the bedroom.

Passing the guest room and dressing room, he went straight to the bedroom door. Holding her in both arms, he looked at her as if telling her to open it.

Liselotte blinked rapidly in surprise.

“How did you know the layout…?”

“Apartment layouts are all the same.”

At his quiet command, ‘Open,’ she had no choice but to reach out and pull the door open. Why did he suddenly look annoyed?

Soon, Liselotte was tossed onto the white bedding. She covered her mouth with both hands. From eye level, Hugo’s pants were pulled tight.

She’d thought he was big even before he was hard, but once blood filled that thick flesh, its massive presence showed itself without restraint. Even through the pants, the clear outline of his erect cock knocked the breath out of her.

“It was just a finger, but fine, let’s count it somewhere else.”

He yanked off his jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. The cufflinks he’d removed rolled across the rug right after.

“Felatio got me hard.”

Hugo climbed onto the bed on his knees. The bed, meeting a guest for the first time besides its owner, let out a creaking scream.

“Who else have you done this with, Lottie?”

Liselotte blinked blankly again.

What the hell was this bastard saying now?

A man covered in filthy rumors, someone who even visited brothels. He thought he had the right to say that?

A laugh of disbelief slipped from her parted lips. But she couldn’t point a finger and snap at him. Scraping together every last bit of her drained patience, Liselotte barely managed to answer.

“I-I’m not really used to it.”

“Oh. Y-you’re not really used to it?”

Hugo scoffed as he began unbuckling his pants. The metallic click at his waist made her heartbeat pick up. No, it was pounding strangely hard.

At some point, her breathing had turned uneven, spilling softly past her lips. Her head felt hazy.

Her blinking slowed noticeably, and Hugo curved a lazy smile at the corner of his lips. His voice asking, “Sleepy?” was suspiciously gentle.

Right. Why was she sleepy?

Maybe because the mattress beneath her back felt so warm. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Liselotte forced them open repeatedly.

Hugo lowered his zipper halfway, then tilted his head back and slowly rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Haa….”

He didn’t seem to plan on taking everything off from the start. After relieving only a bit of the pressure, he leaned his upper body down slowly. In those pitch‑black eyes staring directly at her, the blurred reflection of the languid woman appeared.

Something was wrong. She couldn’t shake the creeping certainty that something was going very, very wrong.

His weighted gaze slid down to the smooth legs exposed between the hem of her short skirt. More precisely, to the inner thighs where shadows formed a triangular shape.

“Let’s see how fast you get wet.”

At that low voice drilling into her, Liselotte’s blue eyes snapped wide open. Instinctively, she pushed up on her elbows.

“Why am I suddenly…?”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to bet on how fast you can get me hard. Then we need something to compare it with, don’t we?”

Just as she tried to pull away, her ankle was caught. His merciless tug dragged her straight back.