The Hungry Tyrant’s Bedroom

“If I shove mine in here again today, will my wife break?”

Floria, the unloved princess, was married off like a mere commodity to the ruthless tyrant, Aidan.

As the rumors said, the man was rough and unyielding.

The wedding night.

With a brute force, he grabbed her delicate waist and mercilessly thrust inside. His muscles, which smacked against her hips, were as hard as stone. Soft flesh was pressed and crushed, birthing both pleasure and pain in tandem.

“I never knew women were such fragile creatures.”

In the hands that had been stained with the blood of countless people, anything would easily crumble.

“And I never knew you would drive me this insane.”

Every time he moved his hips, her entire body felt as if it were shattering. A clear liquid trickled down between her pale thighs. Overwhelmed by the pleasure she never even knew she possessed, Floria dug her nails into Aidan’s rock-hard body and pleaded.

“Please… Spare me, Aidan.”

“I don’t intend to break you.”

At her pleasure-tinged plea, the man let out a low laugh.

“After all, I worked too hard to have you—how could I possibly kill you?”