The Unlucky Bride Is Loved by the Fortunate Desert King - Chapter 12 – Masturbation

What… what is happening here? I was sitting, completely bare, on top of Al’s strong, solid abdomen. At first, I had a towel covering myself—but at some point, it had slipped away.

(This is… completely exposed!) My face burned with embarrassment. There was nothing left to hide behind.

The heavy, misty air of the bath made me feel faint.

“What’s wrong? Try moving,” Al said. It went without saying—this position was beyond embarrassing.
And yet, Al, fully aware of that, spoke with a teasing calmness.

I tried to move away, but he held my wrists gently, stopping me from escaping. My body, weak and trembling, could barely respond.

“Don’t overthink it,” Al said softly. “I’m not forcing you. I haven’t hurt you, and I haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t need to feel guilty toward Asuad. Just calm down.”

“Th-that’s not…” I tried to protest, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Even as I understood that, my body reacted restlessly to every small movement. It was as if my senses had been turned up too high to bear.

The air in the bath felt too thick to breathe. (My head… it’s spinning…) My mouth hung open slightly, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. It was like my body wouldn’t obey my mind anymore.

“Let me show you,” Al said suddenly, his tone calm but commanding. Then his stomach muscles tensed, rippling slightly beneath me.

“Ah—! Al, don’t—!”

The movement made me flinch in surprise.

“Is that unpleasant?” he asked quietly. “Then move on your own.”

Al’s gaze fixed on me—deep and piercing, like polished amethyst. There was an authority in his eyes that made me freeze. He looked every bit the king he was born to be.

When he smiled, he seemed warm and approachable—but the moment that expression vanished, his seriousness carried an almost frightening strength.

As if drawn by his presence, I hesitantly placed my hands on his toned stomach. The warmth beneath my palms was firm, alive, and impossibly steady.

Al didn’t speak. He simply watched me, silently, his gaze steady and unwavering. That look alone sent a shiver down my spine.

And slowly—without even meaning to—I began to move. Not with intent, but because stillness felt impossible.

“Ah… nn…” Sweat slid down from my temple, falling onto his skin. Still, Al didn’t move. He just watched me quietly, as if reading every thought I couldn’t say.

I felt my body tremble, caught between too much feeling and too little control.

It was too much—too close to the edge of something I couldn’t understand. The tension built inside me like a storm that refused to break.

I tried to steady my breathing, but all I could do was whisper out in frustration, “I… I can’t… I can’t take it…”

And then, without realizing, tears welled up and spilled from my eyes.