Try Begging

Chapter 93

“Slowly.”

The woman paid no heed to his words. Nonetheless, she skillfully managed to keep her balance, advanced towards the door and seized hold of the doorknob.

Click, click.

Leon burst into laughter, hearing the doorknob turning urgently. How long was she going to fight the locked door? It was quite fun to watch so he said nothing. The woman grumbled at the innocent door and returned drunkenly with a sullen face.

“Darling, did the door not let you out? That’s so mean. Shall I scold it?”

He held out his hand, and the woman plopped down on his thigh as her cheeks puffed out.

“Ah—”

The woman opened her mouth, pointing at the bottle with her eyes.

She was not a baby bird…

Baby birds were mouth-fed by their mothers. Leon filled his mouth with rum and put his lips on the woman’s lips. The woman took a sweet gulp of the strong liquor that he poured into her mouth in small gulps. She was so drunk that she didn’t even recognize her enemy.

“My little drunk Miss.”

“Uung?”

Feeling dizzy, the woman leaned her forehead against Leon’s. Her body was hot.

“Isn’t it better to be locked up here?”

The woman stared at him through half-closed eyelids.

“You don’t have to work or earn money. Just like a doll.”

She was literally as cute as a doll. Her cheeks that were as smooth as porcelain, grew flush. Her lips, which were exhaling hot breaths, were red like ripe cherries. Yes. Half of the rum, which quickly disappeared from the bottle, was pickling on Leon’s brain.

“That…”

Unlike him, who was full of annoying people around him.

“No one will bother you.”

The woman giggled and poked his cheek with her index finger.

“The one… who bothers…”

Amidst the muffled and incomprehensible words, it was clear that she was going to say the one who bothers her was him.

He rotated his head and nipped at her finger, prompting the woman to narrow her eyes and voice her discontent. As he released his grip, she made an attempt to retract her finger, which he promptly caught in his mouth. His tongue coiled around it as the woman repositioned her legs and crossed them tightly.

“Uung… perverted…”

“I’m not as perverted as a person who feels this.”

Peering at him through the veil of her hair, which cascaded like a curtain over her face, she exuded a not-so-intimidating yet rather just cute. Extending his hand, he attempted to tidy up her unruly locks. However, she averted her gaze and snatched his tie, hanging casually over the chair arm.

With deft fingers, she neatly gathered her long brown tresses, then relinquished the tie, winding it around her head.

Deducing her intent, it seemed she aimed to employ his tie as a makeshift headband.

As she struggled to knot it atop her head, her fingers continually slipped on the smooth silk fabric due to her inebriation. When her initial efforts went awry, the woman lifted her eyes and stuck out the tip of her tongue, a comical sight to behold.

Leon, who had been watching the drunken woman fool around, reached out his hand as irritation leaked out from between her swollen red lips.

“I’ll do it. There. Do you like it?”

The woman sported a sizable black ribbon in her hair, and her smile was enough to turn Leon into a fool.

Despite his inclination to witness her cry over him, he also yearned to see her smile, fully aware that a sincere smile from him was a rarity. Hence, he indulged her until her self-identity faded and her recognition of the man before her blurred in the haze of intoxication.

Only then could he glimpse a smile that radiated pure delight, as he did now.

Leon reached for the bottle. However, before he could tilt it, the woman dipped her head and pressed her lips to the bottle’s mouth. She even opened her round eyes, encouraging him to pour. It was the first time he wanted to have this woman because of how cute she was.

He asked, his hand carefully pouring the liquid into her mouth.

“Have you ever been so drunk in front of him?”

“Yes.”

The woman answered unknowingly. She looked into his eyes and added hastily.

“It wasn’t just Jimmy…”

She continued her excuses with twisted tongue and slurred pronunciation.

“My older brother and my friends in town…”

“Town?”

When the woman stopped her words and stared at him, Leon raised his lips and tilted his head.

‘Is the base in a town?’

In response to the silent question, the woman made a silly sound and chuckled once more, though this time, her smile held a less innocent quality.

Soon, she stumbled into his embrace.

Her lips, infused with the taste of rum, pressed against his, and her supple form slipped through the narrow opening between his lips.

Her intention was clear—to mask her inebriated blunders with her physical closeness.

Foolish yet cunning.

Leon reciprocated with fervent kisses and clasped the resisting woman tightly. He opted not to delve into her errors. After all, the stipulation of their agreement was to refrain from questioning the location of the base.

“Hey, Grand Duke’s puppet.”

Needless to say, as soon as their lips parted, the woman tried to change her subject.

“How is that coming along?”

“Don’t ask.”

Leon undid a couple of buttons that had been meticulously fastened up to the woman’s collarbone. He drew aside a portion of his shirt, unveiling her pristine breasts nestled beneath the imprints of his biting shoulders.

The prominence of her n*pples was unmistakable, perhaps a result of the friction caused by the clothes she hadn’t worn in a considerable time.

As he collected a droplet of rum from the rim of the bottle using his fingertips and delicately applied it onto her ample skin, the pink flesh absorbed the potent liquor, glistening with its sheen. Just as a sensation of thirst overcame him, he lifted up the portion of flesh that seemed almost too weighty for her slender frame and sank his teeth into the yielding surface.

“Ahht…”

Once again, the smell of the woman’s flesh melted into the taste of the rum. No matter how much he sucked, nothing would come out of this place, but the more he tried, the more he felt like he swallowed the alcohol again and again.

“Don’t push me when I’m trying hard to give you a chance to regain your title.”

Suddenly, an unpleasant voice rang in his head.

‘You start by asking me if I want a title.’

Honor, wealth and power. It was true that titles helped with all of this. Therefore, a successor to the Winstons was what one had to want.

But lately he had been thinking more and more of himself, not as the Winstons’ successor. Regardless of how hard he thought about it, all the human named Leon Winston wanted was this woman who was holding his head and moaning.

Whether that desire stems from love, hatred, or both.

Honor, wealth, and power, which had been his life’s purpose, now seemed only as means… a means to hold this woman within his grasp.

‘A fool who is blinded by his obsession with women.’

A part of himself that had lived his whole life as the successor to the Winston family, a part that had once been everything was blaming him.

‘…Tell me something I don’t know.’

Despite Leon’s attempt to cling to the woman’s body, she persistently addressed the Sinclair issue with her words, repelling him as if it were an irritation. While he could empathize with her criticism of the royal family, his mood remained far from jubilant.

Venturing into the basement with the intention of momentarily escaping such matters, he found himself increasingly agitated by the woman’s continuous provocations.

“Is there anyone helping the Sinclair family?”

“None.”

Who would want to turn the royal family into an enemy?

“So you’re just going to sit on the sidelines?”

Leon spat out the nipple he was biting on and let out a long sigh.

“What do you think I am? A God? A martyr? A philanthropist?”

Leon Winston was far from all of that.

“I don’t think so… That was stupid of me to ask.”

“It was the most stupid thing you ever said.”

Leon gave a warning, holding the woman’s cheeks with one hand as she pouted her lips.

“Don’t even think about meddling like that.”

Don’t even think about manipulating him by stimulating a conscience he doesn’t even have.

“You just have to make me feel good like a prostitute.”

The woman clenched her teeth and grabbed the bottle. Seeing that, he quickly subdued her, who was about to pour alcohol on his head and laid her on the table.

“Uung…”

The woman moaned as she rubbed her wrist, feeling hurt at the spot he had clutched while taking the bottle away.

“It hurts…”

“I want you to be hurt.”

Releasing his grip on her, his hand abruptly withdrew. Grace rose to her feet, fixing a stern gaze upon the man who was digging through his jacket hung on a nearby chair. As the man’s hand emerged from his pocket, her narrow eyes expanded with surprise.

What Winston extended was a box of candy before him. The box triggered a memory in Grace — she couldn’t possibly forget the cherry candy he had forcefully fed her during their previous bathtub confrontation.

“What other crazy things are you trying to do today?”

“You’re quick-witted now.”

To realize that he didn’t buy it to eat normally. Leon opened the box with a smirk

“Today you are the woman who sells candy in the cabaret.”

The red candy held between his elongated thumb and forefinger, and his eyes gently curled beyond them.

Grace let out a long sigh.

“Ha-uht! Really, a madman like you, haa, should be locked up in a mental hospital for the sake of society.”

Despite the fact that she was not wrong in predicting that the man would do something nasty, the level of vulgarity always exceeded her imagination.