14 The Carefree Serpent

Feeling pain, Hana instantly sobered up.

Dazed, she realized a fluffy tail was coiled tightly around her neck—not life-threatening, but enough to bring a demon back to reason.

The touch beneath her hands was strange.

Warm and springy.

Her head hung stiffly.

She saw a pair of beastly, murderous eyes and... a disheveled, unbuttoned shirt.

What a gorgeous chest—this fleeting thought flashed through her mind.

Good, what happened? Where am I?

Her head spun dizzily.

Like a blackout after a hangover, Hana racked her brain and whispered helplessly, "...I'm done for. Could it be that my mind is broken too?"

One broken demon brain was already enough in this household; there was no need for a pair in such matters!

Seeing the figure seated on him unwilling to move, even telling herself it might be his mating season, an inexplicable irritation rose within Sesshomaru.

He was Sesshomaru—never forced into anything!

Not even his wife!

Suppressing the urge to say “Get lost,” Sesshomaru’s expression darkened.

Hana stiffly glanced at him as he snapped back to himself. His icy gaze was as if he might whip her mercilessly in the next instant—a “loving thrashing.”

Startled, she shuddered and quickly used her demon power to dissipate the remaining alcohol fumes.

Once her vision cleared of double images and she understood what she had done, Hana’s dizziness vanished instantly. Her sinuous waist stopped twisting, her entire body tensed tightly.

His handsome face, faintly flushed with anger, came into view. Even then, her mind wandered to a loud lyric: “You carry her scent on you~ Is my nose mistaken~”

Damn it! Why were lyrics flooding her mind at such a moment?

Seeing her motionless, Sesshomaru’s dark eyes narrowed. His hands rested on his open shirt, veins bulging on his forehead as he commanded coldly, “Get down.”

“Get down?” Hana blinked, eyes falling on his wide-open shirt.

Judging by the posture, she had just been quite practiced at unbuttoning.

Indeed, unbuttoning.

His shirt was wildly undone on both sides, the inner garment a mess too. Hana could think of no other word but “unbutton.”

Swallowing hard, she took in the defined, muscular chest, the smooth, jade-like quality of his muscles.

...I want to kiss it.

Honestly, Sesshomaru’s figure was that rare type: slim when clothed, yet muscular when bare.

Her mind continued to wander.

“Not done looking?” For some reason, as his anger peaked, Sesshomaru calmed. He pressed his brow, a smile curling on his lips—one that could only be described as stunning.

Hana stared without blinking, a phrase surfacing in her mind: a smile born of extreme anger.

Not afraid of Sesshomaru’s cold face, but terrified when he smiled.

---

A cold face might mean a whip to death, but a smile... just think of Naraku’s fate!

The consequences of offending the stubborn White Dog were clearly demonstrated by Naraku!

Panicking, she wore an obedient expression and quietly slid away, her serpent tail shifting and inching.

As she left, the tail brushed against a notable bulge.

A bulge?

A soft, springy bulge.

Hana fell into an odd silence and sped up, almost teleporting.

Though pinned beneath him, Sesshomaru’s posture remained elegant and unhurried, making him seem the dominant one in control.

In a blink, Hana abruptly darted aside, performing a perfect prostration: “I was wrong! I really was wrong! I shouldn’t have groped you.”

Her blood surged; recalling that strange sensation, a heat relentlessly flushed her face. After calming, she raised her head and said earnestly, “Anywhere but the face, okay?”

The golden beastly eyes were deep and unfathomable.

Hana’s demon power surged, a metallic sweetness rising in her throat. With Sesshomaru’s ruthless nature, she cautiously added, “Hitting the face would be hard to explain if anyone saw.”

“And could be mistaken for domestic abuse, ruining your majestic image,” she whispered.

Mainly, hitting not on the face!

Sesshomaru lay on the fluffy tail, lifting a hand to twirl her scattered hair through his fingers, licking it once before uttering three words: “Not continuing?”

Yet his eyes clearly said: Continue, and I’ll kill you.

Indeed, demons had fewer rules about pleasure than humans, acting more freely.

As long as one was strong enough, one could enjoy the privilege of choosing mates first. This was true in any era, though the definition of “strong” might vary.

Sesshomaru considered himself strong. Being pinned beneath someone was a grave humiliation!

He, bearer of twelve demon markings and among the White Dog’s mightiest, was beneath someone else!

The demon power in the air thickened visibly, and sneaking a glance, Hana noticed his tail bristling, hairs standing on end.

“...” She was done for; Sesshomaru indeed wanted to kill her.

Another glance confirmed it.

Even through his loose lantern pants and clothes, it was obvious.

She no longer doubted Sesshomaru’s coldness.

Now she suspected he was a hermit monk.

If he could endure all this, what couldn’t he endure?

Hana bowed her head tremblingly, tightly lowered, as if saying: I was wrong, I won’t do it again.

In her heart, she muttered: He promised to be a husband, but got mad just from touching his chest muscles—men really can’t be trusted.

After a moment of silence,

“Come here—” the indifferent voice rang again, low and suppressed.

Terrified, Hana looked up to see a flush between his brows, swallowing helplessly.

Sunlight streamed through the window above, shining unobstructed on Sesshomaru, his handsome face bathed in golden light, his disheveled shirt revealing glimpses of chest muscles.

---

A strange emotion swept over her. Hana felt like she had eaten mint leaves in the dead of winter—an all-encompassing coolness, goosebumps rising densely along her back.

If she really approached now, wouldn’t she truly become a dead snake?

Indeed, that was her thought, but—

She went up.

Beauty was objective, aesthetics had mainstream standards, but Sesshomaru, inside and out, perfectly matched Hana’s tastes and fetishes, so even terrified, she carried a trace of savoring.

Damn it!

She had been too dizzy before and forgotten what his chest muscles felt like.

Hana reluctantly inched closer to Sesshomaru.

Suddenly, he leaned forward, close to her. She could clearly feel his breath, and she felt dizzy—dizzy from his allure.

Had Sesshomaru finally decided to solve his physiological problem?

With guilty intent but no courage, Hana was too scared to move, even the slightest touch would make him bristle. If he did it now, her death would be near.

Love is precious, but for life, she’d throw it all away.

She racked her brains, thinking how to decline politely.

His beautiful lips seemed to brush near her neck, breath lightly caressing her nape.

“The goblin’s scent.”

“I’m not such a casual snake!”

Two voices sounded simultaneously.

Sesshomaru lifted his eyelids, meeting her stiff upper body desperately leaning back, a look of “I won’t comply” and pure reluctance.

“...” He hadn’t originally planned anything, but seeing her expression now, his mood soured sharply.

Hana closed her eyes, posing as if preferring death to submission, thinking that if Sesshomaru forced himself on her, she’d feign agreement and then escape at the first chance—

Eh?

What did he just say?

“Goblin?” Coming to her senses, Hana looked at him blankly and repeated the word.

“What did you just say?” Sesshomaru’s smile grew more dazzling and seductive as he pinched her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his beastly eyes.

Hana: ...Oh no.

“Not such a casual snake?” His tone held a rare gentle softness, yet it sounded like a siren’s call from hell—more like a cold, creeping serpent than anything else.

Sesshomaru looked down on her.

The fluffy tail pressed firmly on her restless serpent tail.

At this life-or-death moment, Hana’s mind raced faster than ever. With all sincerity, she uttered in a sycophantic, devoted tone: “I can be casual with you.”

Sesshomaru lowered his brow, staring at her for a moment before emitting a faint sound from his throat: “...Hmph.”

Hana: ...Damn, what does that mean?