I Received The First Time Of My Extraordinary Superior (9 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 6

Sydney had a low tolerance for alcohol.

She got drunk quickly—so much so that even a small amount dulled her senses and body.

So whenever she felt even slightly tipsy, she would drink water or listen to others talk, waiting for the alcohol to wear off. Once she felt somewhat better, she’d drink again. Sydney never let her guard down—not while she had to hide the fact that she was a woman.

But today was different.

She didn’t need to strain her voice to deepen it like usual, nor did she have to worry at all about her posture or gait.

Today, she intended to be herself—her true self as a woman—and meeting an old friend had made her drop her guard.

Yes. That single moment of carelessness, combined with her arrogance in thinking she could control her drinking,

had led to the current disaster.

No—perhaps she should blame her own ignorance.

She should’ve known that mixing alcohol with pleasure… leads to irreparable consequences.

If only she had known,

she would never, ever have followed Logan Redford all the way up to the penthouse.

When the storm-like kiss finally ended, she felt so intoxicated she could barely gather her wits.

“Haah… Logan…”

“Marien.”

Even at that moment, Logan’s hand was sliding down her shoulder strap.

She had to speak before it was too late. Sydney placed her hand over his and let out a shaky breath.

“I… I can’t…”

But he swallowed it all—her unfinished words, her breath, even her lips—Logan consumed everything.

Sydney’s eyelids fluttered and fell shut as she was once again swept away by him.

Her thoughts ceased entirely, every sense now chasing the touch of Logan’s hands gliding over her skin.

Unfamiliar sensations—ones she’d never consciously felt before—surged wildly in time with her heartbeat.

Kisses were more intoxicating than alcohol. The mingling heat and breath between their lips completely paralyzed her mind.

At the same time, Logan’s heated touch traced her collarbone, drifting ever lower and lower.

Each time Sydney squirmed in resistance, Logan gently swirled his tongue inside her mouth as if soothing a child.

Thus, Logan Redford slowly undid every one of Sydney’s locks,

even those hidden deep within her most secret places.

Yet, he never granted her release.

Not even when her hips lifted involuntarily or when she pleaded with him through desperate eyes.

He merely tormented her relentlessly, wearing an unreadable smile.

Damn it.

Sydney clenched the sheets in her fists and bit her lip, trying to forget the burning thirst and that nameless, aching desire.

Thanks to that, she barely regained her senses and pleaded in a trembling voice,

“…Stop.”

But his reply was…

“Marien… your body is truly beautiful.”

Logan murmured an irrelevant compliment. As their kiss continued, Sydney’s ragged breaths mingled with his.

Once again, a wave of pleasure surged over her.

Just a little more… a bit more… just a bit more.

Sydney wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck and gasped sharply.

“It’s… painful… so please…”

“You’re a virgin… not yet.”

Despite seeming just as tormented as she was, Logan firmly refused—always pushing her right to the edge of ecstasy but never letting her cross it.

After this cycle repeated endlessly, Sydney ground her teeth, swallowing back the moans threatening to escape her lips.

I can endure this. It’s nothing… absolutely nothing compared to that time I marched three full days without proper sleep or food in scorching heat…

But contrary to that resolve, it wasn’t long before Sydney found herself sinking into despair again.

No matter how tightly she clenched her jaw, her trembling waist refused to still.

Damn it! Why the hell!?

Any trace of sympathy Logan might have once felt had long vanished. Exhausted by unfulfilled desire, Sydney glared at him and choked out,

“I… hate you.”

“Marien?”

She hated how incompetent Logan Redford was—how utterly incapable he was of quenching the flames he himself had ignited.

“I hate you so much… I think I’m going mad.”

Her reproach, her eyes wide with unshed tears—Logan covered them all with his palm,

then whispered gently, just as he had that day long ago when she’d given up everything.

“Shh… don’t cry. Honestly… are you really ready to accept me?”

“…”

“It’ll hurt a lot. But… if you’re okay with that…”

How could he be so consistently like this? Just like back then, when he’d forced her to eat soup…

“It’ll hurt a lot. But… it’ll be okay… just eat it. That’s an order.”

Because Logan Redford had always been right,

perhaps even this maddening heat… Sydney’s lips parted slightly.

“…Give it to me.”

The bed creaked as he moved.

Sydney turned her head away and closed her eyes—a small consideration for his sake.

But Logan grasped her chin and turned her face toward him.

“You have to look properly.”

“…”

“At the man who will take your first… and your last.”

Was this how the eyes of a wild beast looked just before devouring its prey? His eyes gleamed with greedy hunger, like a predator about to tear into its hunt.

But his wish went unfulfilled.

The tearing pain, the feeling of her body splitting in two—stole Sydney’s vision entirely.

[A storm had raged and passed.]

After the tempest subsided, Logan licked away the tears gathered at the corners of Sydney’s eyes.

“Marien… are you all right?”

“How… could I be?”

Her voice was hoarse, rough like metal—from all the sobbing. Yet Logan chuckled softly, unfazed by her icy tone.

His eyes had grown tender, his smile dangerously charming—as if he’d deliberately set out to seduce her—and Sydney flinched.

“Haah, Marien… that was amazing.”

“…So was I.”

She chose politeness over honesty and turned onto her side.

Even that simple motion made every bone and muscle in her body scream in protest. A pained whimper slipped unbidden from her lips.

She cursed the novels Victoria had shown her.

She wanted to hunt down and kill every author who’d written that “it hurts at first, but quickly gets better.”

Of course, halfway through, she’d felt sharp thrills of pleasure—but the issue was that it hadn’t outweighed the pain.

“So… you weren’t impressed.”

Logan embraced her from behind and kissed her shoulder. Where his lips brushed, her skin tingled hot once more.

“…I should’ve taken better care of you. This time…”

“No, it’s not that…”

Sydney had lived among men for a long time. Inevitably—whether she wanted to or not—she’d seen things:

men changing clothes, swimming in rivers, bathing…

Compared to every man she’d ever seen, Logan was overwhelmingly… Her wandering gaze helplessly settled on her own wrist.

Unable to read her thoughts, Logan confidently declared,

“It’ll be even better next time.”

“…That’s not it.”

“Marien, trust me.”

Sydney was certain she’d lost her mind—after all, she’d once again fallen for his coaxing.

Fortunately, Logan Redford kept his word. The second time was bearable, the third even better, and by the fourth, she’d completely melted into the pleasure he gave her.

She’d become one with him—so utterly that she couldn’t even recall when she’d fallen asleep.

[Hoofbeats tapped rhythmically against the road.]

Sydney tapped her index finger against the armrest in time with the steady clop of hooves. Each jolt of the carriage drew soft, involuntary moans from her lips.

Brooding over yesterday’s events, Sydney slammed her fist against the armrest.

“Walter Asner… I was a fool to believe your words. ‘Useless,’ you said? Without even bothering to check properly…”

Murderous intent gleamed in Sydney’s eyes as she muttered to herself.

Logan Redford was perfectly fine—far too healthy, in fact, to the point of being unbearable.

And she’d actually felt sorry for him. Leaning her head against the carriage wall, Sydney sighed deeply.

“Still… I should’ve refused. Who was I to pity him?”

The carriage turned onto Mayfield Avenue. Sydney gazed at the sunlit trees lining the street and gathered her thoughts.

It’s done now. What good would blaming anyone or worrying do?

Thankfully, Logan didn’t know Marien was Sydney. If he had…

“You have to look properly. At the man who will take your first… and your last.”

“It was just empty words. Men will say anything to seduce a woman. It’s fine. He probably won’t even remember Marien’s face…”

Muttering to herself, Sydney fiddled with her earring, still shaped like a ring.

Moments later, the carriage jolted to a halt. The coachman’s voice rang out:

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

Stepping outside, Sydney saw snowflakes drifting softly from the sky.

It was the first snowfall. Watching a snowflake land and melt on her palm, she whispered,

“…We’ll never meet again.”

Her voice was lost beneath the sound of the departing carriage.

[Sydney double-checked the address—34—and looked up at the building. Its exterior appeared unchanged from yesterday, and the surroundings were quiet.]

“Why… is the door open? And where’s the doorman?”

Silencing her footsteps, Sydney slipped inside the apartment. As she walked down the hallway toward the elevator, she heard someone grumbling:

“What good’s being a noble if you just puke everywhere after drinking? Damn it! Doesn’t even clean up after himself.”

Sydney abandoned the elevator and headed for the nearby stairs.

But she hadn’t climbed more than a few steps before regret hit her—her entire body ached from last night’s events.

Still, she didn’t want to go back down and take the elevator. Since she’d decided to treat yesterday as if it never happened, she might as well endure this pain without complaint.

Anyway, driven by sheer stubbornness, Sydney dragged herself all the way to the fifth floor—legs trembling, drenched in cold sweat—but feeling strangely proud, as if she’d overcome something.

When she rang the doorbell, Sarah opened it, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Miss Sydney? At this hour…? Oh my, look at you sweating… Come in quickly.”

She hurried the exhausted-looking Sydney inside.

“Sarah, I’d like to wash up.”

“This way, please.”

As Sydney entered the bathroom, Sarah naturally moved to help her. Not wanting Sarah to see the marks left from last night, Sydney declined her assistance.

“I’ll do it myself. Sarah, could you bring me the uniform I wore here?”

“But the young lady will be disappointed…”

“I’ll explain myself. It’s an urgent matter.”

“Yes, understood.”

After Sarah left, Sydney sank into a hot bath. Seeing the scattered red marks blooming across her skin, memories of Logan’s touch and gaze resurfaced vividly.

“God, I’m losing it.”

Shuddering, Sydney quickly climbed out of the tub and dried herself off with a towel.

A soft knock sounded, and the door opened.

“Miss Sydney, here are your fresh clothes.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

Sydney checked her uniform and bandages as she thanked her, then—just as always—tightly wrapped her chest with fresh bandages.

Whether from pain or simply loathing the situation, curses occasionally slipped from her lips.

Only once fully dressed in her uniform did Sydney finally leave the bathroom.

“Sydney Warden?”

At the sound of a man’s voice, Sydney slowly turned around—hiding the red dress behind her back.