After the humiliating process ended, Dieyi still seemed far from satisfied.
She performed even more actions.
The sensation of that moment—Ella had no idea how to describe it.
It felt almost like plunging a red-hot sword into a block of ice.
And she was that block of ice. Dieyi’s finger was that sword.
The back of her index finger slid across the corner of her mouth, wiping away the last traces of moisture, then stayed there.
It lingered right at her lips.
The pad of the finger rested gently against her lower lip, as if it could slip inside at any second, or as if it were waiting for something.
“Ah… ah…”
Ella opened her mouth.
She wanted to struggle.
She wanted to say something—even to curse.
Get away.
Don’t touch me, you Failure— These words surged through her mind, fighting to burst out of her throat.
But in the end, all of them dissolved into vague, broken gasps.
They were like shapeless fragments crushed deep in her throat, scattering in the moonlight.
Even she couldn’t make out what she was saying.
She pressed her lips tightly together.
Because she knew that if she left even the smallest gap, she would cry out.
Her entire body was burning hot.
From her face to her neck, from her neck to her chest, from her chest to her abdomen, from her abdomen all the way down her thighs.
The heat wasn’t coming from outside.
It was blazing up from deep within her body, like a volcano that had slept for ten years suddenly awakening at this moment.
“You see, Your Majesty?”
Dieyi’s voice drifted down from above her head, laced with intoxicated satisfaction.
“I told you. You’re very excited.”
Ella’s pupils trembled violently.
Impossible…
She denied it frantically in her heart, using every ounce of strength and all her reason to reject it.
How could this be possible…
Why was she excited?
For what reason?
Being treated like this by Dieyi—there was no reason to be excited.
It was impossible.
Instead, she should hate her.
She should loathe her.
She should be plotting every possible way to take revenge on her.
That was how it should be.
But—
But…
Her body was saying something completely different.
Her body was trembling.
Not from fear, not from cold, but from a strange, unfamiliar excitement she had never experienced before—one that made her want to scream.
Her heartbeat pounded like war drums.
Blood surged wildly through her veins.
Every inch of her skin had become hypersensitive; even the touch of moonlight made goosebumps rise.
Her toes curled tightly. Her breathing came in short gasps. Her lips trembled faintly.
“You’ve finally come back, Your Majesty.”
Dieyi’s finger moved away from her lips and onto her cheek.
The pad gently and slowly traced circles over her cheekbone, as if caressing a precious, fragile piece of porcelain.
“You’re no longer that damned Insect Mother—”
Her voice was soft, almost a sigh.
“That cold, heartless thing.”
Ella’s eyelashes quivered.
“You’re excited. You’re aroused.”
Dieyi’s finger slid from her cheek to behind her ear, then down the side of her neck.
The pad paused over her carotid artery, feeling the wild pulse throbbing beneath her fingertip.
“As for the reason—”
Her lips drew close to Ella’s ear. Her breath brushed against her earlobe.
“It’s very simple.”
Her voice was as light as a feather landing on the tip of Ella’s heart.
“You… got wet.”
These three words stabbed into Ella’s temples like needles.
What?
Me?
Me?
Really me?
No! Impossible!
Her reason screamed and roared, using its last strength to try and drive those words out of her consciousness.
I am the Insect Mother! How could I possibly feel such a lowly emotion!
Reproduction is only my action! It is merely a means to achieve my goal! How could it—how could it become the goal itself!
But her body refused to obey.
Her body was responding.
It wasn’t her controlling her body anymore—her body was controlling her.
She wanted to push Dieyi away.
Her hands should have been planted on Dieyi’s shoulders, shoving her away forcefully, resolutely, without mercy.
But she couldn’t.
Her hands rose and landed on Dieyi’s shoulders—yet instead of pushing, they grabbed.
Her fingers clutched the fabric of Dieyi’s pajamas, knuckles turning white, as if clinging to a lifeline.
Her entire body was subconsciously yielding.
Her head tilted back slightly, exposing her neck. Her lips parted.
Her breathing grew even more urgent.
Her body leaned forward, pressing against Dieyi’s. Through the two thin layers of pajamas, she could feel the other girl’s body heat, her breathing, her heartbeat.
The two heartbeats intertwined—one fast, one slower—like a chaotic duet.
“You see,”
Dieyi’s voice floated down, carrying a doting smile.
“You clearly like it very much.”
Ella wanted to refute her. Her lips parted. A syllable forced its way out—“You—” —and then got stuck there.
Because she didn’t know what to say next.
Say that Dieyi was talking nonsense? But her body was proving Dieyi right.
Say that she was a pervert?
But right now, the one pressing closer was Ella herself. Say “get away”? But her fingers were gripping the other girl’s clothes tighter than ever.
Moonlight streamed in through the porthole, bathing the two of them.
Pink hair and silver hair intertwined, impossible to tell whose strands belonged to whom.
Their shadows stretched across the dusty floor, overlapping into one blurry, indistinct shape.
***
In the morning, Ella woke up.
In Dieyi’s bed.