Ethan's eyes scanned the status window, and the reality of what he saw made his body go cold.
"Is this really happening?" he thought, his mind swirling with confusion and dread.
The tir in the corner of the screen kept ticking down—1:47.
He glanced at the girl, still bound before him, her wide brown eyes filled with fear. Although her expression was full of terror, he knew he could overpower her in an instant. But doing so would an violating sothing deeply fundantal in him.
No, he thought firmly. That's sothing I could never do.
His hands trembled, pulling at his hair in frustration. What was he supposed to do?
The curse... the curse didn't give him a choice. But could he really trust the system? Was this all a lie?
His mind raced, torn between the intense pressure of the curse and his own morals. What if the system was playing tricks on him? What if there was another way out?
As his eyes flicked between the girl and the tir, he struggled to make a decision.
Suddenly, a new ssage flashed on the screen.
---
[Side Effect of the Curse]
The Host's mind will be affected by the curse, and the Host might act in ways they do not wish to. The Host will not realize what is happening during these monts.
---
Ethan's blood ran cold. What does that an? His mind was now racing with even more questions. What kind of curse was this?
He turned to the girl, his gaze locking with hers. Her eyes flickered—was it fear? Or sothing else? It was hard to tell. But the way she trembled beneath his stare made his thoughts grow foggy.
"No, I can't let this control ," he tried to remind himself, but his focus was slipping, the weight of the curse pressing in on him.
Ethan was caught between his will to resist and the overpowering force of the curse. Every inch of him scread to break free from the influence—but the ticking tir was relentless.
Ethan's gaze locked with the girl's, his breath catching as he noticed the subtle tremor in her eyelashes. His throat went dry as his heart raced, and his body moved closer to hers, though every instinct scread to stop. Despite the gag, her lips seed soft, and her skin—smooth, pale—seed to glow in the dim light.
The silence hung thick between them, and as he drew closer, he could sense the foreboding in her eyes. There was fear there, but not just for herself. It was a kind of resignation, as if she knew what was coming but couldn't escape it.
Ethan's thoughts blurred, drowned by the intoxicating scent of her, and a slip of sanity, like a last tether snapping, made him forget everything else but the mont. His lips brushed against her neck, and he felt her flinch beneath him, her whole body stiffening. Each kiss he placed, soft and hesitant, was t with a quiet tension that reminded him of her unwillingness.
The weight of what he was doing settled heavily on his conscience, but he couldn't pull away. Her vulnerability—her fear—was almost unbearable. It wasn't just about the kiss anymore; it was about what would happen after. Would he push her to a breaking point, or could he sohow find the courage to stop?
Ethan's thoughts whirled as his hand moved toward the back of her head, his fingers brushing the ropes of the gag before pulling it loose. For a split second, the girl's expression shifted to confusion, her lips parting as if she was about to speak. But before she could form a coherent thought, her voice broke through in a strained plea.
"Please... please stop."
The words hit Ethan like a punch, but they didn't stop him. He could see the panic in her eyes, hear the raw desperation in her voice, and yet sothing in him was paralyzed by his own conflicting feelings. His breath ca faster, shallow, as he leaned in, his face inching closer to hers. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, and for one long, agonizing mont, everything felt suspended.
Her voice scread in her head: Don't do this. Don't. Please don't.
But she couldn't move. Her mind was caught in a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and an unsettling sense of powerlessness. As she gazed into his eyes, she saw sothing she couldn't place: hesitation, reluctance, but also... desire. It was like looking into a mirror of her own emotions.
Her breath hitched, her body frozen in a conflict she couldn't resolve, and before she knew it, his lips brushed against hers. It wasn't the storm of feelings she had anticipated. It wasn't disgusting, as she feared. It was soft, tentative, as if both of them were waiting for sothing to shift. But nothing did. His kiss was gentle, and he pulled back imdiately, his eyes searching hers.
She didn't know what to feel. The thought of him, of this mont, should have been revolting, but the kiss itself—there was sothing different about it, sothing that didn't fit with the rage and fear she felt. It was... unexpected.
As Ethan's gaze locked with hers again, he hesitated. But then, driven by sothing deeper, his lips t hers once more. This ti, the kiss was more insistent, more urgent. Her body stiffened, but the kiss continued, relentless and overpowering.
Her mind scread for her to fight, to push him away, but her body... her body didn't listen to her.
Ethan's lips pressed against hers with a force that was both desperate and hesitant. His hands, though uncertain, moved with a strange urgency, pulling her closer. He could feel her body tense under his touch, her breath hitching as he kissed her. It wasn't like any kiss he had imagined. It was raw, full of conflicting emotions—her fear, his desire, both of them trapped in a mont they couldn't control.
As he pulled away, both of them gasped for air, their faces flushed, their hearts racing. He could feel her tremble beneath his touch, but there was sothing else there—sothing that made the room feel smaller, the air thicker. Her gaze flickered to his, and for a brief mont, neither of them spoke.
Her mind was in turmoil. What was she doing? Why wasn't she stopping him? But every instinct scread at her to remain still, to understand what was happening, even if she didn't want to. She had always been taught to be strong, to be in control, but here, now, with him, it felt like everything she had known was slipping away.
Her eyes dropped to his chest, his body bare before her. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be with soone else. But now, in the intensity of the mont, she couldn't deny the heat rising between them. No, she thought. This is wrong. I shouldn't be feeling this.
Ethan, too, was torn. His mind raced, and his hands hesitated, uncertain. He wanted more, but every kiss, every touch was a battle against his own fear and the guilt gnawing at him. He saw the hesitation in her eyes, the way her body stiffened in response to his movents, and yet, he couldn't stop himself. His desire was overwhelming, and yet, he felt her resistance, heard the voice in her head telling her to stop, to pull away.
Their faces drew closer again, the tension between them thickening. He kissed her gently this ti, his lips softer, as though trying to reassure her, trying to gauge whether she was still willing. Her eyes fluttered closed, and for a second, she let herself feel it—just the mont, just the connection.
But even as their bodies pressed closer, even as their breaths mingled and their hands explored the uncharted territories of each other, her mind was screaming to stop. What was this? Why was she letting this happen?
Ethan's heart pounded in his chest, his own inner conflict warring with his desires. He could feel the weight of her emotions, the way she tried to pull away, even as her body responded to him. But he couldn't shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was pushing her too far.
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