The Male Lead's Fake Sister

Chapter 49

If there was a line in a relationship, he already had crossed it irrevocably.

Relationships that could no longer be concealed with silence and an indecency that couldn't be revealed.

Obviously, this wasn't my initial plan.

No, did I even plan it? But I swear I didn't mean to cause such an obscene result.

In the first place, he was already satisfied just by sitting at Ravia's feet.

If only she didn't hate his request this much. If only she hadn't hurt him every single time, this wouldn't have happened.

However, their established relationship crumbled away. The crack finally emerged.

The evil butler finally stole his owner's daughter.

In a sleepless mansion, with tender lips and soft breaths.

Contrary to Tidwell's assumption that he would be slapped immediately, Ravia did not push him away.

Perhaps due to the shock after getting caught secretly doing something, or perhaps she just realized the raging desire erupting from his hungry eyes since they locked gazes a while ago.

She looked at Tidwell, dazed, and soon lowered her eyelids.

Reluctantly, as people usually do when they bury a truth.

Ravia didn't push Tidwell away.

That fact alone seemed to melt his mind. He felt a desperate need to bite her soft flesh and force his tongue between her wet lips.

The desire was as rough as how much he held it in.

However, compared to how much he held in, he treated her gently. He changed the angle a few times. Their saliva entangled, gasping in a fit of passion.

Whenever her tightly shut lips opened slightly, obscene noises filled the air as the wet flesh entangled.

Tidwell wrapped an arm around Ravia's waist, and the hand that had grabbed her chin crept up to her soft cheeks.

Perhaps because she was feeling suffocated, nonetheless blood rushed to the cheeks he was caressing.

She opened her mouth with her eyes closed and flushed cheeks as if she just sprinted here.

Just imagining it made him feel blood rush to his stomach, but now the actual scene played out right before him.

In his arms. In his grasp.

The overwhelming pleasure of tearing off her fancy attire devoured his mind.

Because of that, his kiss was more like an assault.

He pushed himself on her until Ravia's flushed cheeks turned bright red.

When the gap between their nose bridges began to widen and his opponent was about to resist, he swiftly stopped her with a gentle stroke before pulling her back to his embrace.

Ravia heaved her chest strenuously as such action was repeated, and the saliva flowing down her jaw was lewd.

He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. When he exposed her red ears, Ravia's shoulders shuddered heavily as if she was hit by a cold wind.