The Duke of Hermont’s Male Mistress
Chapter 14
A flood of heat, his scent, and unfamiliar breath poured over her, separated only by a thumb.
Roy could only clutch Vitor's clothes, crumpling the fabric in her fist.
Whether startled by the sudden turn of events or overwhelmed by extreme tension, her heart pounded violently.
She grew anxious that even Vitor, pressed flush against her, might hear it.
‘He won’t notice the bandages wrapped around my chest, right?’
She was certain no one could tell unless her clothes were removed.
Yet every time she felt the firm, supple muscle of Vitor's chest, the distinct difference between her body and a real man's struck her with absolute clarity, sending every nerve in her body on high alert.
“You need to breathe.”
Vitor whispered with apparent concern for Roy, who had stiffened like a stone statue without realizing it. Only then noticing she had been holding her breath, Roy hurriedly inhaled.
Her tangled rhythm, however, did not recover so easily. Like a broken machine, she could manage only shallow, short gasps.
Vitor, who had been watching her in silence, parted his lips slightly. He then slid the hand resting on her waist upward, sweeping smoothly down along her spine.
“Nngh….”
A small sound leaked through her teeth. That unguarded murmur, almost like a wet whimper, dampened the thumb still resting over her lips.
Vitor's gaze gradually darkened. It was hard to tell whether it was because he stood with his back to the light, or because his face had gone nearly expressionless.
He pressed his thumb firmly against Roy's lips, as though stamping a seal. Naturally, the surface area in contact expanded until it covered his thumb entirely.
He brought his lips back down. Over his thumb, his lips brushed and parted against hers repeatedly. Every time they touched, Roy flinched, clutching his clothes as if struck by an electric spark.
She pursed her lips, doing everything she could to avoid contact.
The raw breath of a man spreading so close and the hand stroking her waist set her alight.
A tingle shot through her lower abdomen, and heat flared across her face. Breathing erratically through her nose in clumsy gasps, Roy slowly opened her closed eyes.
Shock froze her entire body. Vitor was utterly absorbed, his gaze burning with an eerie intensity.
He rubbed his lips against hers so ardently that the finger dividing them was rendered meaningless, leaving slick saliva behind.
A ticklish sensation deep inside her chest made her squirm.
‘For some reason, I….’
Felt like I wanted to touch him a little more….
“Duke of Hermont?”
The woman's voice snapped Roy's languid, drifting senses back to reality. Over Vitor's shoulder, she saw Marquis Russel's daughter.
The young lady stood with a bewildered expression. Her gaze was still fixed upon the two clinging closely together.
“Who is that person….”
“Hah….”
Her eyes darted between the two of them, hesitating. Vitor knitted his brows deeply, as if irritated at having an important moment interrupted.
The lips touching lightly beyond his finger pulled away. Roy's heart began to race like mad after the fact. Her lips burned.
Composing his expression, Vitor turned around, wrapping an arm around Roy's shoulder to pull her toward him as he spoke.
“This is my lover.”
“Y-Your lover?”
“Yes.”
Chuu—.
A short, distinct sound.
He punctuated all doubt with a light kiss.
The complexion of Marquis Russel's daughter turned pale in an instant.
“I can bring my lover to the performance, right?”
* * *
Golden chandeliers cast a soft glow. Refined cigar smoke slowly drifted beneath the high ceiling.
A luxurious gambling house frequented only by the capital's upper crust.
Raul rolled a chip across the velvet-covered table, silently staring at his hand.
Three jacks and a pair of queens.
In most cases, it was a hand strong enough that anyone would see no reason to fold.
Yet the moment the dealer slowly turned the cards over, his spirits plummeted.
“Four of a kind.”
The match ended in a single stroke.
“Good grief. Four of a kind here?”
Beside him, his friend Ollie let out a laugh disguised as astonishment.
“Tough luck, Raul.”
“Well, nothing I can do. Guess it wasn't meant to be.”
Raul downed his whiskey and slammed the empty glass down with a clatter.
“How many chips do you have left? That mountain of chips is starting to run dry, isn't it?”
“Losing chips is half the fun. What are you doing, dealer? Aren't you dealing the cards?”
“Will you be continuing the round?”
“Of course.”
“Understood.”
The dealer began shuffling the deck with practiced hands. The cards sliced through the air with soft swooshes as they drifted across the table.
Checking his hand, Ollie smiled loosely and spoke in a light tone.
“By the way, what's Vitor up to these days?”
Raul's brow twitched faintly.
“…He's probably slacking off on his leave.”
“Is he staying at that villa? The imperial summer villa. That Swan Palace he got as a reward for the victory, I mean.”
“Swan Palace, my foot. It's just a fancy name given by the imperial family because they love putting on airs. I went there myself, and it was just a run-down mansion. Looks nice on the outside, but it's barren inside.”
“Anyway, our family has some thoughts on the shipping business this time, so put in a good word with Vitor for us.”
Raul's gaze quietly lifted from his cards toward Ollie. Sensing the chilling glare, Ollie spoke with slight awkwardness.
“What? Honestly, isn't it true that any business investment succeeds if his name is attached to it? Last time, during the Baileirn family's sea route development project, investors lined up just from the rumor that Vitor invested, didn't they? Well, he's the empire's hero, so it makes sense.”
“What does a soldier know about investing? Everyone's a fool.”
“Come on, it's all in the name value. Just mention it to him. If his name is attached, we're halfway there.”
As the conversation stretched on, other young nobles began showing interest one by one.
“If Vitor's investing, should we join in too?”
“If Vitor shows interest, it's worth doing.”
The atmosphere above the table drifted in an uncomfortably familiar direction. The snap of Raul's patience took only a single moment.
“If Vitor decides to do it, you'll let us know too, right? Got that, Raul?”
Crash!
The glass Raul hurled against the wall shattered with a sharp burst. The atmosphere inside the gambling house instantly froze solid.
“What am I, a carrier pigeon to deliver your messages to Vitor?!”
“N-No, that's not it, it's just because you're Vitor's older brother….”
“Older brother? Never mind being an older brother, do you bastards even consider me part of the Hermont family? In the past, none of you would have dared sit at the same table as me!”
Raul kicked back his chair and stood up, fuming.
Hermont was no ordinary noble family. Even among the empire's nobility, it was an overwhelming symbol of power.
Their roots ran deeper than the Imperial Family's, and they had reigned at the center of imperial politics to the extent that people used to say, ‘It is not the imperial house that chooses the Emperor, but Hermont.’
Whenever power changed hands, Hermont stood behind it.
Bloodline, renown, tradition, political power—everything about them was overwhelming.
The only family more noble than the Imperial Family itself.
They were like the Black Eagle atop the crown, a presence with whom no noble could stand side by side.
“I let it slide once or twice, and now this half-breed noble really thinks he can throw his weight around?”
Provoked, Ollie shot back with a sneer.
“Is there anyone here who doesn't know your mother was from Lumiere? She was a whore who sold her body! If you hadn't gotten lucky and caught the eye of a high noble, you wouldn't have dared lift your eyes to look at us. If by some miracle you ended up on a noble register, you ought to live with gratitude instead of running your mouth!”
“What? You son of a bitch…! Are you done talking?!”
Raul lunged to grab Ollie by the collar. He looked ready to throw a punch at any second.
“Hey, hey! Calm down! Raul, stop it! If you cause trouble again, you won't be able to handle it this time!”
Evern Laval, hailing from a long-standing vassal family of the Hermont Duchy, quickly wedged himself between the two men.
“Did you forget you barely got out on bail last time? They said they wouldn't let it slide if you get caught again.”
“Argh!”
Raul kicked a chair leg in frustration and turned away.
“What's his problem?”
“What else? His inferiority complex exploded again. Moron. This is why you shouldn't mingle with lowborn trash.”
Mocking whispers spread across the tables. Raul gritted his teeth and stormed out of the gambling house.
When Raul appeared earlier than expected, the servant standing at the entrance bowed hurriedly in surprise and approached.
“Bring the carriage right now. Right, now!”
“Yes! I'll bring it around right away!”
Venting his temper, Raul pulled a cigar from his pocket and put it between his lips. He flicked his silver-plated lighter several times, but it only produced clicking sounds without catching flame.
“Damn it all!”
The Duke of Hermont's male paramour
