Chapter 43: Side Story 15: Claiming the Past and the Storm of Passion

In the end, Ihan excused his own cruelty by blaming it on how excessively erotic Yeon Hwaun was. Gripping Hwaun’s belly firmly, he began to rapidly thrust his fingers into the opening, mimicking the motion of actual intercourse.

“Nng…! Ah, ah! Ugh!”

The unexpected and intense stimulation caused Hwaun’s posture to collapse instantly. However, because Ihan held his stomach so tightly, his hips remained tilted upward toward Ihan. The wet sounds of sliding friction filled the room as Ihan’s fingers relentlessly breached Hwaun’s center.

Though small compared to Ihan’s actual member, his fingers provided a sharp, fast-paced stimulation. Pleads of “I don’t like it, stop, please,” began to spill from Hwaun’s lips—words that usually only surfaced after the full act had begun.

“Aah…! Haah… hng… heeu….”

Only when Hwaun was on the verge of losing consciousness did Ihan finally withdraw his fingers. Hwaun panted heavily, his spine and shoulder blades protruding sharply from his lean back with every breath. Admiring the sight with rapt fascination, Ihan threw off his own cumbersome noble robes.

The priceless fabric tumbled onto the dirty floor, but neither of them cared.

Ihan pressed his formidable, pulsing length against Hwaun’s already swollen and reddened entrance and spoke:

“Una. Look closely. Even your past… every bit of it is mine.”

“Your… Your Majesty…….”

“It doesn’t matter if I didn’t see it or know it then. Just as your present belongs entirely to me, every day that has ever belonged to you is now mine alone.”

Hwaun groaned, his hips swaying instinctively as the Emperor’s heat rubbed against him. He was caught in a dual desire: wanting to flee from the overwhelming pleasure of anticipation, yet desperately wishing for Ihan to pierce him and fill him roughly.

It wasn’t just physical. The burning affection and possessiveness of his lover—who claimed even his insignificant past as his own—aroused Hwaun beyond measure.

Knowing it would only provoke Ihan further, Hwaun couldn’t help but voice the truth blooming in his heart:

“I am… Your Majesty… all my days… every single one belongs to you alone….”

“…….”

“Every day that I have breathed and lived… please… please take them all….”

Hearing those words, it was only natural that Ihan’s reason snapped completely. His massive member began to force its way inside, stretching Hwaun’s entrance as if to tear it.

“Uuugh……!”

As always, the beginning was marked by a pained groan. Hwaun buried his face in the pillow again, his fingers clawing at the bed. Even with the finest oils, it was a difficult fit; using only the messy remnants of his own release in this unfamiliar, cramped space was far from sufficient.

Ihan gripped Hwaun’s pelvis firmly with both hands to prevent him from instinctively retreating, forcing himself inside. He knew from experience that dragging out the insertion only made it more painful for Hwaun. The tightness was so extreme that it was a struggle for Ihan to endure the pressure as well.

“Hnguh…….”

Finally, with a sound that was half-sob, Ihan pushed all the way in until he was buried to the root. He leaned down, pressing his lips against Hwaun’s back as Hwaun caught his breath, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being filled.

“Nng…!”

Each time lips touched his back, it felt like a brand being burned into his skin. Strangely, though the sensation was close to pain, the knowledge that it was Ihan’s lips made it a source of comfort and strength. Hwaun focused on the marks being carved into his back to try and relax his body.

With every inhale, he felt the massive presence deep within his belly. Perhaps because of the air in this room—so different from the imperial bedchamber—his entire body felt hyper-sensitive. The smell of musty dust, the cold air, the dim walls, and the creaking of the old bed combined to awaken every nerve in his body.

It was ironic. He had spent much more time in this room than he had as an imperial concubine, yet the space felt both nostalgic and foreign. Already, his days as “Yeon Hwaun” had overwhelmed his previous memories. That was how much the Emperor meant to him.

“Una….”

“Ah, Your Majesty…! Nng!”

Ihan wrapped his arms around Hwaun’s torso, his palms caressing the skin from his distended belly upward before firmly gripping Hwaun’s taut chest. Then, he began to move his hips.

As the pillar of flesh withdrew and then slammed back in, Hwaun felt as if his internal organs were being pushed upward by the sheer force of the impact.

“Hauguh……! Nng, ah…!”

Hwaun gasped, his mouth hanging open, his hips moving instinctively to match the Emperor’s rapidly increasing pace. His buttocks and thighs, struck repeatedly by the friction, turned a burning, angry red. This, too, served as an explicit stimulant for Hwaun.

The Emperor, who usually treated Hwaun like a precious jade, was only ever this rough during their private hours. Hwaun finally had to admit to himself that he was easily aroused by this very violence.

Ihan, thrusting as if he intended to drive himself through the bed itself, suddenly stopped.

“Do you find my words amusing?”

“Nng… Your, Your Majesty……?”

“I have told you several times not to call me Your Majesty.”

“…….”

“Do you truly wish to be punished?”

Hwaun’s body stiffened reflexively at the Emperor’s feigned anger. He knew Ihan wasn’t truly furious, but experience had taught him that this tone always preceded a significant shift in the act.

“Ah, aakh! Ah, wait…!”

True to Hwaun’s prediction, Ihan suddenly flipped Hwaun over while still remaining joined to him. Hwaun cried out in shock, struggling briefly as his insides felt crushed by the rotation, but he could not escape the Emperor’s strength.

In an instant, his vision changed. Hwaun was now on his back, staring at the ceiling. The movement was a mere second, but the impact on his body was profound. He lay there trembling, legs spread wide. He felt as if his entire lower body and belly had been completely rearranged.

“Hah-ng…! Hng-eut!”

Without mercy, Ihan immediately thrust upward. Hwaun’s waist arched violently, and a high-pitched, melodic moan escaped his lips, no longer muffled by the pillow.

Ihan, looking satisfied, pressed his hips flush against Hwaun’s, moving with enough force to reach the very limit of the opening.

“Call for me again.”

“Your, Your Majesty… nng….”

“No. That is not it.”

Ihan withdrew nearly to the tip before plunging back in with all his might. Hwaun’s lower belly momentarily protruded then sank back down, as if something from the inside was trying to pierce through the skin. It was a form of corporal punishment, and the shared realization of this act brought a unique pleasure to both.

“Call me again,” Ihan commanded, his thumb tracing the taut, stretched edges of the opening. Terrified that a finger might join the fray, Hwaun shook his head.

“The hand, I don’t want the hand… ah! Your Majesty.”

“Call me again.”

“Aakh!”

But in a state where his reason was almost gone, it wasn’t easy to change a title that was ingrained in him like an instinct. Finally, Ihan began to carefully slide a finger in alongside himself. Hwaun twisted his waist, sobbing.

“Ah, no, I hate it… hng…!”

“…….”

“I, I don’t want that, Young Master…!”

At that moment, the title Ihan had been demanding finally spilled from Hwaun’s lips. Even though he had commanded it, hearing the title in this context caused Ihan to freeze. He stared down at Hwaun, his eyes unblinking.

But Hwaun, whose mind had crumbled under a mixture of pleasure and sorrow, didn’t even notice the shift in the air. He continued to sob:

“Young Master… hng… I don’t like that…, Young Master, please….”

“…….”

What did a name matter? Whether he was called Your Majesty or Young Master, the person remained the same.

Ihan truly couldn’t understand himself—why that one title sent a surge of heat to his head, making him want to completely ruin Hwaun. A curse word, too quiet to be heard, escaped the Emperor’s lips.

Ihan withdrew the finger that Hwaun had pleaded against. Hwaun let out a ragged breath of relief, his chest heaving, but it was merely the silence before the true storm.