The Amorous Mate

Chapter 12: I Burn For You

“H-How did you know?”

It is the only question that has slipped at Chelsea’s mouth. Bearing from the shock, her bank of words seemed at loss.

The moment when Lord Matthew revealed the cause of his raging, Chelsea was nothing but stunned. She could not believe this was happening to her—that as quick as the lightning bolt, someone would recognize her fraud.

“Y-You knew that I am actually not Princess Demeter?” Chelsea again asked, trying to clear things from their badly mussed conversation.

Once again, Lord Matthew’s sharp gazes contacted hers. She saw the flash of red colors forming on his eyes for a brief moment. It was the same blood-red color she once saw on him, back on the woods when he saved her from the bandits.

“L-Lord Matthew, I … I am begging for a clear explanation,” again, Chelsea said.

Lord Matthew’s face was an inch-close near her. From that, she could feel his raging, rapid rise and rest of his breath.

An inch close, and she was seeing his detailed, attractive features. Then, she noticed how the lord clenched his jaw.

“Damn it!” he yelled.

The lord has fully lost control over his own self.

He unprecedentedly punched the wall near and beside Chelsea’s head. She gasped from that, frozen from the echoed force of the punch.

Regretting what he did, he turn his back to the Princess. He then held his hair, and gravely pulled it merely because of the invading frustration.

Chelsea, on the other hand, was both shocked and terrified from what had happened. She looked at the spot where the lord furiously punched the wall. She saw a broken mark—a dent— flatly laying on the supposed to be strong surface made of concrete.

Is this how strong every man in this world is?

She could not believe how strong Lord Matthew was, to the point that he has the power to ruin a wall with the use of only a single punch.

She then wondered, what if that punch landed on her face, instead of the wall? Surely, it would only not cause her a dent on her face, rather a crashed, broken head. That was for sure. She would be dead by now, if only that happened.

“Damn it,” Matthew whispered again.

“L-Lord Matthew, I don’t know what was happening,” Chelsea said, planning to start her explanations.

Witnessing how terrifying the lord’s strength was, she realized how she has to consider being very careful in dealing with him. Or else she would surely suffer death for the second time around.

“I . . . I am from a place that no one in this world could imagine. Perhaps none of you, or even me, could visit it. It . . . it is a modern world, uhm, something more advanced and more complicated than this world that we have. And then . . . and then, I died from that world. Later I only realized that I woke up instead of dying. But . . . I am not in my body anymore. Instead, I woke up with this body . . . with the body of Princess Demeter.

Lord Matthew, I don’t—never—desire to be inside this body. I’d rather be in the purgatory than living the life of a whimsical princess. B-But then here I am, inside the body of a Princess without knowing what the purpose could be.”

In a blink of an eye, Lord Matthew was once again pinning Chelsea on the wall, all trying to control his raging anger.

“Then where is my princess?” he asked. Again, his raging breath was licking the skin near her collar and bosom.

Chelsea’s eyes watered in fear both from being pinned on the wall, and from his now terrifying gazes.

“I-I don’t know, Lord Matthew. I woke up in this body without knowing anything,” Chelsea replied.

“You should not lie in front of his lover.”

Seeing how the lord was gravely gritting his teeth because of anger, Chelsea panicked. She shook her head, desperate to tell that indeed, she has no idea what made her inhabiting the princess’ body.

“I … I am not lying, Lord Matthew! I am … I am telling nothing but the truth. I really don’t know where the real Princess Demeter was. If I know, then I must be the first one who will come and talk to her!” Chelsea’s voice broke.

Huge rapid trickles of tears started to reveal from her eyes. She tried to control it by wiping, but it did not help.

Seeing the pearl of tears falling from the princess’ eyes, Lord Matthew’s sharp gazes immediately soften.

“Damn it,” he again whispered—but this time, he is not mad, but softened.

Chelsea looked at him with her grieving eyes. “Please help and spare me, Lord Matthew,” she pleaded.

“Why?” Lord Matthew asked.

Confused, Chelsea’s forehead creased. She repeated his question so that she can clarify.

“Why?”

Lord Matthew’s soft gazes crawled from her eyes, then to her lips. She saw him swallowing a lump from his throat.

The way how his adam’s apple moved, it made her rouse something unexplainable from her curious soul.

Hard to admit, but it seemed . . . she was attracted to him.

“Why, even I know you’re not the one I love, I … I …” Lord Matthew stared straight to her eyes. “I am still burning for you?” he asked, whispering.

Brought by the sudden heat that their bodies unknowingly released, Chelsea and Lord Matthew’s lips collided.

Desiring each other for more, the lord’s lips slipped through her mouth. She willingly accepted it with a moan.

“Matthew, I … I … hmmm.”

With their burning desires, their hands started travelling on every corners of their bodies. Chelsea moaned again when the lord touched her breast, squeezing and caressing it with utmost desire and pleasure.

“Please, your highness, allow me to—’

Lord Matthew’s words wasn't completed when Chelsea once again claimed his lips. He then willingly gave back what she desired.

The two touched each other’s body, and caressed it with passion as they felt the heat and unexplainable sensation coming from each other’s skin contact.

How Chelsea could feel the bulge of his manhood under his pants was surely an unexplainable feeling. She does not want to break off from their contacts, instead, she want more of him—there was this weird feeling of wanting him more. Inside.

But the feeling of guilt protested inside her. “Matthew, I think this is—”

“Do you want me to stop?” Lord Matthew asked, pulling his lips from kissing her collar.

She bit her lip. Her mind was in the brink of chaos, for she was pressured to answer him. She does not want what he was doing, if she will let her guilt rule over her soul. But, she was craving for his touches and kisses if it was her desire she would let dominate her soul.

“N-No.” In the end, her unexplained desire wins over.

For Lord Matthew, it was more than enough an answer to continue what he was doing. As his lips touched her skin and his hand ventured on her body, she moaned. She bit her lower lip to lessen the sound of pleasure.

“Sister? Sister Demeter! Perhaps, are you here?”

Chelsea and Lord Matthew quickly broke away from each other when they heard someone calling. They quickly composed back their disarranged dress and suit which was ruined by their passionate . . . well, touching.

Sooner, it revealed that the one who has been calling Demeter, was her sister. Princess Cassiopeia.

Now when she saw both Princess Demeter and Lord Matthew lone at the back of the mausoleum, she was momentarily shocked. Then, her shocked expression was quickly changed with a meaningful, mocking smile. She realized something mischievous. Who would not, if the place she found with Matthew and Demeter was a perfect spot for secret talks (and more)? It is isolated. It is a spot beside the field of woods and grasses.

“Why, upon many places you could meet and ‘talk’, you chose such a dry, morbid place, sister?” she looked at the man, “Lord Matthew?” she asked with a creepy smile.

“W-We’re not doing anything, Cassiopeia. I and Lord Matthew was just . . . talking,” Chelsea quickly defended.

“Precisely, sister. Have you had not heard what I said? Talking in this place is cheap and sad.” She pouted and acted as if going to cry.

Chelsea awkwardly laughed. “I . . . guess so,” she agreed, nodding her head, and chuckling awkwardly.

“If you want some private talk, sister, your room in the palace is always available. Or if you do not wish to be seen by the royal family, or guards, or servants, a lover’s inn is a night and day open. That place is immaculate for love making—I mean, talking.”

“Sister!” Chelsea yelled with panic.

Hearing her sister’s reaction, Cassiopeia laughed. Then, she went towards her and grabbed her by her hand.

She gaped back at Lord Matthew.

“Forgive me my Lord, if I am to snatch my beloved sister from your lovemaking—I mean lovely ‘talk’. If you would let us, I have to bring my sister back inside the mausoleum because the Queen is looking for her.”

“I-Indeed. M-Much obliged,” Lord Matthew stammered.