Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads

Chapter 399 --399

Hearing that, Heena smiled sweetly, offering a perfectly innocent bow of her head as the old matriarch stepped past the threshold and made her way down the corridor.

The absolute second the grandmother’s silhouette disappeared from view, the atmosphere in the study violently snapped.

Samuel didn’t even wait for Heena to give the order. He moved with desperate, frantic speed, his heavy leather boots thudding against the floorboards as he slammed the heavy sliding doors shut. The solid, wooden ’clack’ echoed loudly in the quiet room, followed immediately by the sharp sound of the lock clicking into place.

Heena turned around slowly, the sweet granddaughter persona melting away to reveal that same wicked, entirely dominant smirk. She crossed her arms loosely over her chest, tilting her head.

"Oh my," Heena cooed, her voice dripping with dark, mocking amusement. "How incredibly rude. Shutting the door so violently right after the Grand Madam leaves? Is this what passes for manners in the provinces? Is this how you were taught to behave, guard?"

Samuel didn’t engage with the banter. He couldn’t. His rigid discipline had completely shattered the moment the lock engaged.

Ignoring her taunts entirely, he crossed the room in two massive strides. He reached out, his large, trembling hand grasping her arm—not tight enough to bruise, but with the desperate, clinging grip of a drowning man grasping a lifeline. He practically collapsed forward, dropping to his knees right in front of her.

With his free hand, he frantically yanked the wooden cat mask off his face, tossing it carelessly onto the pristine bamboo mat.

His face was an absolute mess of flushed skin and sheer, unbearable need. Sweat beaded at his temples, plastering his dark hair to his forehead. His dark eyes, completely blown wide with a feral, starved intensity, looked up at her pleadingly. The neat collar of his navy blue robes was slightly askew, revealing the dark, blooming bruises she had left on his neck earlier.

His broad chest heaved violently, his lungs fighting for air as if he had just run a hundred miles.

"Enough..." Samuel gasped out, his deep voice cracking into a broken, ragged rasp. He pressed his forehead against her stomach, his entire muscular frame shuddering against the silk of her gown. "Please, wife... sto... stop... it."

Heena looked down at the brilliant, towering scholar who was currently reduced to a trembling, breathless wreck at her feet. She didn’t push him away. Instead, she let out a soft, dark hum of satisfaction, her fingers slowly threading into his messy, damp hair.

"Stop what, Samuel?" she whispered cruelly, giving his hair a light, warning tug. "I haven’t even done anything yet."

Samuel looked up at her perfectly composed expression, his dark eyes brimming with desperate, agonizing pleading. He bit his lower lip so hard it almost drew blood.

"Please, wife," he rasped out, his voice a breathless, broken whisper. "Please... take it out."

Heena blinked, tilting her head to the side with an expression of flawless, wide-eyed confusion. "Take it out?" she echoed, her voice soft and airy. "Take what out, Samuel?"

She let her gaze slowly trail down the broad line of his chest, past the thick woven sash of his uniform, until her eyes landed pointedly on his lap. The heavy fabric of his navy trousers was doing an absolutely miserable job of hiding his current, highly agonizing predicament.

Understanding seemed to suddenly dawn on her face. She brought her delicate hand up, lightly covering her mouth in a picture-perfect display of aristocratic shock.

"Ah! ’That!’" she gasped softly.

Her innocent act lasted for exactly one second before a thoroughly wicked, merciless smile broke through. She let her hand drop from her mouth, elegantly raising her fingers to casually inspect her manicured nails, completely ignoring the fact that a massive, lethal man was currently begging on his knees at her feet.

"Well, it is certainly a tragic situation for you, my dear guard," Heena sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "But what can we possibly do?"

Samuel stared up at her, his breathing ragged, a look of pure, horrified disbelief crossing his flushed face as he realized she was actually going to leave him hanging.

"I simply cannot go around touching a strange man," Heena continued smoothly, her tone dripping with fake righteousness. "After all, I am a good, proper noblewoman now. I have a very delicate reputation and a strict moral standing to maintain in this household. If anyone were to find out I laid hands on a lowly guard, my purity would be ruined."

"But then again..." Heena murmured, letting a soft, dramatic sigh escape her glossed lips. She looked down at him, her dark eyes melting into a beautifully deceptive look of pity. "I simply cannot bear to watch you suffer like this."

A sudden, desperate light flashed in Samuel’s dark eyes. The unbearable tension in his broad shoulders eased just a fraction, a ragged breath of pure relief tearing from his throat. He looked up at her like a dying man looking at a saint, entirely convinced she was finally going to grant him mercy.

But Heena wasn’t finished.

"How about this..." she added, her voice dropping into a silken, dangerous purr that sent a fresh shiver straight down his spine. "I absolutely cannot break the strict rules of etiquette and touch a strange guard with my hands. But... I suppose I can still find a way to help you."

Samuel paused. His heavy, frantic breathing stalled in his chest. For a second, his brilliant, scholarly mind completely short-circuited, entirely failing to understand her hidden meaning. ’Help him without touching him?’

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

Slowly, with agonizingly deliberate grace, Heena lifted the hem of her midnight-blue gown just enough to free her leg. Before Samuel could even process the movement, she raised her foot and pressed the hard, arched sole of her embroidered silk shoe directly against the heavy, agonizingly tight fabric at his crotch.

Samuel’s entire body went absolutely rigid.

A choked, muffled sound—halfway between a gasp and a whimper—tore violently from his throat. His head snapped back, the muscles in his thick neck straining as a violent jolt of electricity shot straight to his core.

Heena didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her shoe rest right there, applying a slow, torturous pressure. She leaned forward, her dark eyes entirely predatory as she watched the brilliant scholar completely fall apart at her feet.

"There," Heena whispered, her lips curving into a ruthless, breathtaking smile. "No hands involved. I am still a perfectly pure noblewoman, wouldn’t you agree, my dear guard?"

Samuel let out a deep, guttural groan, his head falling back as Heena deliberately increased the weight of her heel.

The hard, embroidered sole of her silk shoe dug ruthlessly into the heavy fabric of his trousers. The pressure was intense, crossing the razor-thin line between agonizing pleasure and genuine, terrifying pain.

For a wild, frantic second, Samuel’s brilliant mind completely blanked out, entirely consumed by the very real fear that his ruthless wife might actually crush him and make him a eunuch right here on the grandmother’s pristine bamboo floor.

His large hands flew forward, his fingers hovering frantically over her ankle, wanting to pull her foot away to save himself, but completely paralyzed by her earlier command not to touch her.

Seeing his panicked, pained reaction, the wicked amusement on Heena’s face vanished.