Chapter 12

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Imprinted with the Male Lead, Even Though I'm the Villainess: Chapter 20

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"Haa, why isn't she coming?"

I didn't realize I was someone with so little patience.

His lower abdomen tingled, knotted with scorching heat. Richt frowned in agony as he stared at the bedroom, which remained silent despite his repeated signals.

'Is she planning to ignore it?'

It was entirely possible, now that he thought about it. The moment he'd mentioned her rut, she'd shown clear signs of rejection.

'This is driving me mad. I told her it wasn't something she could just avoid.'

He knew all too well the irresistible force of a rut, and he'd warned her himself. But from her perspective, it might not feel real yet.

"Urgh."

The mere thought of Luciana made his core throb anew.

Feeling his body grow hotter by the second, Richt gripped the magic artifact once more and sent another signal.

One second, two seconds... soon thirty.

As he waited in the darkness for Luciana, his instincts gradually clouded his vision.

His noisy mind, thickening with intense longing, filled entirely with thoughts of his mate.

Luciana, Lucy...

The moment Richt gripped the sheets unsteadily and drew in a ragged breath—

Fwaah!

"...!"

A brilliant white light burst at the coordinates he'd set in the center of the room, and Luciana appeared, clutching the magic artifact—the one he'd been desperately awaiting.

"Luciana."

"...!"

The moment he called her name, a small figure flinched in the darkness.

The instant he caught that faint presence, the last fragile thread of his restraint snapped.

"Why'd you take so long?"

Richt rose from his seat, his eyes bloodshot from holding back, and strode straight to her, pulling her into a deep embrace.

"...!"

His voice carried relief and urgency.

It sounded almost like a lover's petulant complaint to a late partner, making Luciana forget to push him away as she gasped involuntarily.

"Luciana."

Richt called her name again.

It was a far cry from the voice she'd heard before.

'Is this really the male lead I know?'

It was so disarming, she nearly mistook him for someone else. Richt was endlessly tender and soft, like custard cream melting sweetly on a gloomy day.

"Um, Your Grace...?"

At least he didn't seem poised to pounce like a beast—thank goodness for that.

Flustered by Richt's unexpected reaction, Luciana stammered his name repeatedly, unable to compose herself.

Even as she'd infused mana into the magic artifact, fear had gripped her—what if he lost control and lunged at her, just like in that dream of the duke?

She'd kept her promise, knowing ignoring the rut could lead to unknown consequences later, but her heart had pounded like it might burst right up until she arrived in the bedroom.

Her shawl, clutched like a shield over her shoulders, had done little to ease her. The moment her eyes met his red ones, she felt devoured to the bone, even though nothing had happened yet.

But contrary to her fears, Richt didn't drag her straight to the bed or strip her clothes off.

He'd approached the instant their eyes met and pulled her into an embrace, but it was far more polite and restrained than she'd imagined.

'Of course, that doesn't mean the male lead is in his right mind...'

A sudden hug, out of nowhere.

What was Richt like right now? Clearly driven mad by the rut, yet his madness felt oddly gentle somehow.

"Haa."

"...!"

Her thoughts wandered for just a moment.

But as his heated breath brushed her nape while she let her guard down, a chill raced down her spine, and her breath caught automatically.

"Ah! Wait...!"

Smack.

In an instant, lips like molten iron sucked hard at the lobe of her ear.

The sound of flesh rubbing against flesh pierced her eardrums, and Luciana's eyes flew wide open to their limit.

Richt nibbled at the delicate skin before pressing his lips to her flushed cheek like a stamp.

"Eek!"

It was impossibly soft for lips belonging to a man covered in muscle. As they trailed across her cheek, faint breaths escaped between them, tickling her taut downy hairs.

'My heart's going to explode.'

How could a mere kiss feel like this?

It was a bizarre sensation, too strange to capture with just "ticklish," crawling alive across her skin to the crown of her head.

Her shoulders twitched with each wave, her toes curling, her temperature spiking as if with fever.

"Don't pull away."

"...!"

As Luciana instinctively recoiled, Richt seized her traitorous hand trying to escape him and pressed his lips down again, imprinting his mark.

Its touch was endlessly warm and yielding, utterly unlike the icy man she knew.

"Ah..."

This wasn't right.

Luciana let out an unwitting sigh, biting softly at the tender flesh inside her mouth in a daze.

The current Richt wasn't a beast ensnared by rut—he was a man wholeheartedly offering his heart to a woman.

His red eyes, fixed solely on her as he kissed her palm, burned with such intensity even in the darkness.

All the more so, Luciana's heart thrashed without respite.

No matter how she tried to draw a line, viewing him as another woman's man, his handsome face—deliberately tempting her—kept drawing her gaze whenever she looked away.

And as if that weren't enough, the dim night and the intimacy of the bedroom lent the air a strange tension, twisting the mood ever more peculiar.

Richt sensed it too.

His gaze deepened as he cupped her fevered cheek, ripe as sun-ripened fruit, and gently stroked near her eyes in seduction.

"Luciana."

"..."

"Lucy."

"That's...!"

She'd never allowed anyone outside her family to call her "Lucy."

To hear that special pet name slip so casually from his lips.

Luciana flushed crimson at the duke whispering her name so sweetly and jumped back.

"Why? Can't I call you that?"

"Well..."

"Hm?"

The crackle of the fireplace grew nearer, along with Richt's face.

'This is bad. He looks fine on the surface, but he's not in a state to reason with.'

Peering closely into those gently curving red eyes, so coaxing like they were luring an innocent lamb, she saw they were silently submerged in a dark, viscous abyss.

"!"

The moment she met them, she felt swallowed whole into an endless pit.

Terrified, Luciana clutched the magic artifact in her hand, but Richt was a step faster.

"You don't need this anymore."

"Wait...!"

Her posture, as if ready to flee at any moment, only fueled his anxiety.

Like a trap snapping on prey's hind leg, Richt snatched the artifact from her and immediately lowered his head.

'Ah...!'

No time to dodge—their lips met.

A slick tongue invaded through the parted seam, slithering like a snake over wet soil.

As it coiled around her, brushing mucous membranes with every lick, goosebumps prickled her like she'd been pulled from water.

Richt drenched and swallowed ceaselessly, like parched earth drinking the first rain after drought.

Craving more, he pulled Luciana tighter, crushing her soft form—veiled only by thin chemisette—against him. The moment seared vividly into his mind, wrenching a distant sigh from him.

The more they tangled like knotted threads, the thicker and more intoxicating her scent flooded his lungs.

Amid the onslaught, saliva he couldn't swallow dribbled from the corners of her mouth. Luciana felt overtaken by the invading heat, forgetting even to breathe.

Why did she feel the urge to flee, when he clearly wasn't trying to kill her?

Struggling feebly in his muscled embrace against some unknown fear she couldn't name.

'Eek. Please...'

Her eyes, flushed from the heat, were stained red as if with ink.

Who knew her body held so many sensations.

Each time his large hand caressed her, leaving traces, a whirlwind of feeling coursed through her fine nerves.

"Haa!"

The sudden kiss broke only when Luciana, breathless, pounded on his rock-hard chest.

"Your lips are a mess."

His half-lidded red eyes drifted to her glistening lips.

Already swollen from just a little nibbling.

A fleeting mix of sigh and satisfaction. Then, his stiff neck—which had never bowed to anyone—bent naturally downward.