OMS Chapter 20

“…So, what is it that you want?”

His words, spoken as he stroked my back, made me freeze and catch my breath.

What I want… it’s already clear to me.

I want to remove these bothersome clothes and love him completely, touching every inch of his body. I want to lick him, bite him, leave marks all over him, and claim every part of him as mine. I want to love even the parts that are already responding—the stiffened member and the hidden place between his cheeks—and ravish him entirely, pouring my filthy desires into him.

I can’t even pinpoint when I first began to harbor such unspeakable desires.

The first time I met him, my chest was filled with the joy and relief of finally finding the true Saint-sama.

But during the journey to the capital, I began to feel deep reverence for him. I can’t count how many times I’ve thanked my luck for being able to serve someone like him.

He always seemed uncomfortable being treated as a Saint, yet he never hesitated to extend his hand to those in need.

Even though he wasn’t wealthy, he shared his food, brewed herbs for the sick even though he couldn’t yet use healing magic, and helped with labor even when he was exhausted… He acted as though it was nothing, but those actions were precious beyond words.

How kind could someone possibly be?

The first time I touched him was when he was formally recognized as the Saint-sama. After the previous Saint placed her hand on his, his body collapsed, and I caught him—his lightness was shocking.

I knew his village was poor. Although he was roughly average height for a man, his clothes seemed to swallow him, hanging loosely off his thin frame.

But still, his dignified presence and the calm maturity in his expression made him appear larger than he was.

I was expecting him to be heavy, as most unconscious men are, but when I lifted him, he was so light that I stumbled a little, and it frightened me.

I had finally found someone I wanted to dedicate my life to, and yet, he seemed so fragile, as though he might disappear at any moment.

That feeling I had when I held him for the first time—fear that he might slip away—only grew stronger over time.

He pushed his body to the limit performing purification rituals and collapsed again. When he finally woke up, he would immediately overexert himself, pushing himself to the brink once more.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him for even a second.

I stayed by his side, but when the unveiling happened, I couldn’t even protect him.

How many times have I watched him pass out with a pale face?

Even though he is the most precious person in this kingdom, he wears himself down every day.

With each purification ritual, he pours out both his blood and holy power, gritting his teeth in pain. His forehead is drenched in sweat, and he bites his lip until it bleeds.

And that wasn’t enough—he even threw himself in harm’s way to protect the substitute Saint Emilia, was gravely injured, and, as soon as he woke up, healed my worthless wounds, exhausting all of his holy power, only to collapse again.

—I couldn’t bear to lose him. I’d rather…

That was the moment I realized my feelings.

If being a Saint was costing him his life, I thought, maybe I should just take him away somewhere. Fortunately, Emilia was acting as the public Saint, and only a select few knew about him. That group couldn’t openly search for him either.

I knew I had a good chance of succeeding.

It was when those thoughts started creeping in that I realized… I wasn’t just serving the Saint, I was devoted to him.

This man, who never complains despite the pain, who doesn’t hesitate for a moment to sacrifice himself.

He’d say things like, “If me trying my best means everyone can live in peace, then it’s a small price to pay,” without a second thought. He was just too kind for his own good.

Once I realized my feelings, it was like I was tumbling downhill. Every touch made my heart race, and I began harboring desires I couldn’t share with anyone.

Dreaming of defiling someone so pure and noble, I was horrified by my own sinful thoughts—yet my heart continued to waver, and my feelings deepened.

I tried to suppress my emotions, but the moment he allowed me to kiss him, everything burst forth.

Every three days, I greedily tasted his soft lips in exchange for his holy power.

His fragile body trembled with pleasure, showing reactions that were so obviously inexperienced. His eyes fluttered with every small touch, and he’d let out heated breaths as he awkwardly tried to entwine his tongue with mine.

Seeing him so bashful yet sensual made me want to push him down countless times.

How could I kiss him like this, in a dim room, on a bed, and not imagine going further?

He said that the deeper we connected, the stronger the blessing would become.

If I used that as an excuse and asked, maybe… maybe he would allow it.

Maybe I could touch his skin, hidden under that strict uniform, skin that’s probably never seen sunlight. Maybe I could touch places no one else has ever seen.

Whenever I touched his neck or back during our kisses, he never clearly rejected me.

So maybe, just maybe, I could go further…

That shallow desire grew stronger every time I touched him.

—And now, here I am.

After confessing my feelings, he’s asking me what I want.

“…I want you.”

I thought about lying, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

Zeph blinked, wide-eyed, clearly surprised, and furrowed his brows as if deep in thought. His hand, still resting on my back, gently stroked me.

Surely, he’ll reject me. But if he does, that’s fine. At least it will stop me from holding on to false hope, and I can come to terms with my feelings.

I’ll never be able to let go of these feelings, but I never expected them to be fulfilled in the first place.

I’ve always intended to carry this burden silently while serving him for the rest of my life.

So, whatever his answer is…

If it comes from him, I will accept it.

“Uh, so, does that mean… you want to have sex?”

“!! W-Well, if you put it so bluntly, yes… but it’s not just about the physical aspect. I want all of you—your body and your heart.”

“Do you want to be the one on top? Or… the one being taken?”

“……I want to be the one… on top.”

The unexpected directness of his question made the blood rush to my face.

My face was burning. My ears were burning. My neck was probably flushed too.

But who could stay calm when being asked something like this by the person they love?

My heart was pounding painfully in my chest, and I was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Every nerve in my body was focused on where we touched, and all my senses were vibrating with the presence of this man.

“Haha, your face is bright red.”

…Please, don’t tease me.

I’m barely holding back from pinning him down on the bed, tearing off his clothes, and devouring every inch of him.

Even now that he knows my desire, why doesn’t he pull away?

The arms that were tightly holding him have long since relaxed their grip. I’ve got a loose hold around his waist—he could easily slip away if he wanted to.

And yet, he remains in my embrace, gently stroking my back.

Why does he smile so softly at me?

The answer came in a way I never could have imagined.

The hand that was resting on my back moved to my cheek as if to confirm the heat in my face. He gazed at me with narrowed eyes, a mischievous glint in his deep brown irises, and slowly leaned in until our lips met.

I felt the soft, familiar touch of his lips—a sensation I longed for—only this time, he was the one kissing me.

“…I’m not ready to go all the way yet, but… maybe, if we take it slow…”

As he spoke, he looked away, embarrassed. The faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were tinged with a slight blush.

—This can’t be real…

No, he’s not the type to lie about something like this. I know that well enough.

And his slightly reddened eyes, visible even in the darkness, tell me he’s not lying.

Even so, I couldn’t believe it, and I reached out with trembling fingers.

As I slid them from his cheek to the corner of his eye, he squinted, as if ticklish. There was no trace of rejection.

I couldn’t help but pull him into a tight embrace, and he didn’t resist, simply allowing himself to rest in my arms.

Not only that, he even hesitantly grabbed onto my shirt, quietly leaning into me.

—Can I really… touch him?

The one I love more than anyone, the one I’ve longed for with all my heart.

Even though I knew my feelings wouldn’t be returned, I didn’t care if it was out of pity or mercy. I just wanted to be allowed to touch him.

I had dared to hope for it, burning with anticipation, while also wishing to have that hope crushed to pieces.

My throat tightened, and I couldn’t speak.

I was afraid that if I said anything, this dream would end, and I’d lose him forever.

Desperately clinging to him, I held him close, unwilling to let go.

He quietly accepted it, and after a while, he gently stroked my back, as if encouraging me.

Not to pull away, not to take back what he’d said earlier.

But with a soft whisper, “Let’s sit down for now,” filled with incredible kindness.

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