Chapter 151: Make Love To Me [I / R18] Edna sighed as she wrapped up with training, sweat clinging to her brow as she lowered the new staff. A gift from her mother-in-law. The sun had already dipped low into the horizon, painting the courtyard in a dim amber glow. Evening had fallen. She rotated her stiff shoulders and exhaled long, chest rising and falling with exhaustion. "I’m tired~" she yawned, stretching her arms high, her muscles protesting. It had been another grueling session under her mother-in-law’s sharp eyes, and though Edna had once struggled to even grasp mana, she now wielded magic with a confidence she never thought possible. She even learned runes as of late. Despite the late start, she was advancing faster than anyone could have imagined. She was certain now — her mastery was approaching that of the Empire’s recognized mages like Sir Lucius Arotvale. Of course, she knew the truth of why. ’It’s all thanks to Azel,’ she admitted inwardly, her lips twitching into a faint smile. He had given her everything: guidance, patience, and sometimes even bribing her to keep on absorbing mana cores for kisses. He was her savior. Her lover and her reason to dream bigger. She bit her lip. The image of his smile, his broad shoulders, and the casual way he moved through life without arrogance made her heart pound. She was still as perverted as ever. Though if there was one thing she hated, it would be the swarm of women that seemed to circle him like moths to a flame. Well except Medusa. But they all wanted him. Of course they did. Still, even surrounded, he always treated her kindly, always looked at her like she mattered. That was enough to burn a hole in her chest unlike the Emperor who barely treated her like anything. ’I just wonder when we’re going to do it,’ Edna thought, cheeks heating. Her imagination wasn’t exactly saintly these days. Her desires had only worsened. You couldn’t watch Azel train shirtless and expect to remain pure. Not when his body looked like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves. Okay, maybe she was overexaggarating it but it was true especially now that they were in Winter. More than once, she had fought the absurd urge to grab him, to drag him into a quiet room and have him take her from behind. When it grew unbearable, she resorted to silly indulgences — pressing her nose against his clothes when he was asleep and . Just holding the fabric, pressing it against her nose, was sometimes enough to calm the pounding of her heart. Sometimes. She shook her head, chuckling at her own weakness, as she made her way down the long hall that connected the training grounds to the residential wing. The mansion was quiet at this hour, lit by sconces casting wavering shadows along the polished walls. She padded barefoot, enjoying the cool stone against her soles, already half-thinking of collapsing into Azel’s bed. He would be probably sleeping by now. But as she passed by one of the many guest rooms, the sound of a latch clicking startled her. The door opened abruptly, and before she could react, strong arms slipped around her waist. "Ah—!" Her voice caught in her throat as she stiffened. For a heartbeat panic shot through her, but then she recognized the warmth. The familiarity of that grip. Azel. Her pulse spiked. He drew her inside with effortless strength, the door shutting behind them with a muffled thud. Her back pressed lightly against the wood as she turned her head, confusion warring in her chest. The room was dim, a single lantern glowing near the bedside. A large bed dominated the center, its sheets freshly laid. It wasn’t his room, just another unused chamber but why were they here? Finally, his arms released her waist. She stumbled forward a step, breath shaky, and turned toward him. "Hey, darling, what are we—" Her words were stolen. Azel’s lips crashed against hers, sudden and hungry. Her eyes widened as her back was pushed against the closed door. A startled gasp left her throat, but then her body betrayed her. Her lips moved instinctively, pressing back against his, heat flaring in her chest. The taste of him sent shivers down her spine. When his hands moved upward and cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her singlet, her body gave way completely. "Ahn~" The moan escaped before she could suppress it, muffled against his mouth. Her singlet offered no defense, and the sensation of his fingers kneading her softness nearly melted her legs. She clung to him desperately, nails lightly scraping at his back, as if to anchor herself. And then his tongue slid past her parted lips, demanding entry. Her thoughts scattered into static. She had read about kisses like this in romance novels, where the heroine would be ravished against her will but secretly love it but experiencing one like this firsthand was overwhelming. Sure the Emperor had gotten some light kisses in with her but she hadn’t enjoyed anything as rough as this. Her pupils rolled back, her thighs pressed together as she whimpered into the kiss. It was too much. Too good. Her body trembled, unable to match the ferocity of his advance. When he finally pulled back, her lips felt raw, swollen, and a single strand of saliva connected them. She blinked hazily, meeting his gaze. His eyes held a mischievous gleam. "You liked it?" Azel asked, smirking. Her chest heaved, her breath shallow. His cocky tone should have annoyed her, but instead it sent another shiver through her. She bit her lower lip, trying to compose herself, and nodded slowly. "A-Amazing..." If only he knew how close she was to collapsing from nothing more than his mouth. What she didn’t see was the flicker of nervousness in his eyes. He wasn’t as composed as he looked. But if she didn’t notice, he wouldn’t let her. He took her hand gently, threading his fingers with hers. Without another word, he guided her backward. Her knees hit the edge of the bed, and she toppled softly onto the mattress. She looked up at him, cheeks red, heart hammering in anticipation. "There’s a whole lot more where that came from, love," he murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed her ear. The intimate whisper sent her into a frenzy, her face burning hotter than fire. He was feeding her temptations one by one, embodying the very heroes of her forbidden novels — dominant, fearless, and utterly irresistible. She wanted him to continue. No, she needed him to. His hand trailed down, skimming her side, then hooking at the hem of her singlet. Her breath caught. Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t resist. In one smooth motion, he lifted it upward, fabric slipping past her stomach, her chest, her arms until it was gone. The garment landed carelessly on the floor. Leaving her revealed before him.