Quietly Hiding that I am a Man chapter 151- Fake Peace (Mature)

* * *

Jeanne’s body was lifted, and in a panic, he clung to Jerome’s neck with trembling arms.

It wasn’t just the sensation of something deeply invading inside him—it was the fear of falling that stole his breath away.

Seeing Jeanne like this, Jerome let out a heated sigh.

Jeanne, desperately clinging to him like a child who had lost their mother, seemed utterly endearing.

His dark, shadowed eyes curved in gentle amusement.

Pressing his lips firmly against Jeanne’s cheek, Jerome left an unrelenting kiss.

“Do you like me that much? So much that you can’t bear it unless you hold onto me?”

“Scared… I’m scared. Stay away.”

“That’s why you need to hold your husband even tighter. Like I’m the only one in the world you can rely on. Kiss me, now.”

“I said I’m scared! I’m terrified! Put me down!”

Jerome, who had been silently watching Jeanne with a faint smile as he rejected him with a face that seemed on the verge of tears, suddenly let out a chuckle.

Then, he thrust his hips upward with force.

Startled by the violent intrusion that felt as though it pushed his insides upward, Jeanne let out a choked sound.

Each time Jerome drove himself into him, as if treating him like nothing more than a living tool, the pinkish inner walls were dragged outward along with the movement.

Jeanne bit down on his tongue, arching his back roughly and throwing his head back.

“Aah… it hurts…” he whimpered, his voice trembling with pain and emotion.

The fear of possibly falling and the extreme situation of having no choice but to entrust his body to Jerome brought an odd sense of pleasure instead.

The pressure from gravity bore down on his bladder, bringing a wave of urgency.

It felt like he might lose control.

Jeanne, who had been letting out occasional whimpers as his body flinched, whispered in a trembling voice:

“I-I need to use the bathroom. Please, just let me go to the bathroom. I’m begging you. I don’t want to do it here.”

“……”

“You, you said you love me, didn’t you? If you love me, you should do what I want at least once. Please, let me down… let me down…”

Jeanne’s large eyes brimmed with tears, but Jerome just let out a nonchalant hum, pretending to be distracted.

Then, he answered in a bright tone.

Hearing Jerome’s response, Jeanne’s face turned pale.

“Do it on me.”

“……”

“Come on, think of me as your personal toilet and let it out.”

Jeanne stared blankly at Jerome.

It was then that Jeanne finally recognized the monster lurking behind those ashen eyes.

The thing that had been pretending to be human all along was nothing more than a monster, skillfully mimicking the voice of a man.

A pitiful creature that derived pleasure from dominating and exploiting others, incapable of reaching its climax through any expression of common love.

It was the most grotesque and beautiful monster he had ever created.

“Ah, ugh…”

Overwhelmed by the suffocating feeling, as if confronted by an enormous unknown entity in the depths of the ocean, Jeanne panted heavily until, at last, he wet himself.

The trickling sound of urine soaking the ground reached Jerome’s ears, and he teased him with a wicked smile.

“A grown lady wetting herself—how embarrassing.”

Jeanne was too shaken to even register his words.

The humiliation of losing control in front of someone was staggering, but what made it unbearable was that the someone was Jerome.

He had put in so much effort to win his affection, only to end up showing him this disgraceful side of herself.

The realization devastated her.

And Jerome, as if he could see right through her turmoil, spoke again.

“What should I do? Maybe I’ll need to put you in diapers next time.”

“……”

“If you’ve wet yourself, you should at least admit it was wrong.”

Jerome, who had been smiling faintly, suddenly smacked Jeanne hard on the buttocks.

Smack!

The sharp sound echoed as Jeanne’s body trembled violently, and in the end, tears began to fall, dripping one by one.

With a scrunched-up face, he sobbed like a child.

“Ugh, sob, ahhh…!”

Jerome’s slap on his rear stung, the shame of wetting himself burned him, and the hardness buried deep inside showed no signs of letting him release.

Due to the late-arriving hangover, he was incredibly sleepy, and in the end, Jeanne cried out loud.

Jerome, who had been drinking Jeanne’s tears as if they were holy water, drove his hips forward with force.

The sound of clattering grew louder and louder.

Jerome, feeling a sense of climax, pushed his member all the way to the tip of Jeanne’s short abdomen.

“Haah…”

The veins standing out on Jerome’s taut stomach throbbed faintly.

His member, which had been relentlessly pounding inside, withdrew, frothing with bubbling semen.

Jeanne’s swollen, gaping hole expelled white fluid.

Holding the now limp Jeanne, Jerome headed back to the sofa, finally feeling a sense of conclusion.

Jeanne, laid down onto the sofa by Jerome, cast him a resentful glance before slowly closing his eyes.

“Still, it should be over now. I should be able to sleep now…”

His whole body was covered in sweat and bodily fluids, making him feel uncomfortable, but Jeanne was too exhausted to even think about washing up.

However, that feeling lasted only for a moment, as he suddenly opened his eyes at a strange sensation.

Jerome, who had positioned himself at the foot of the bed, was slipping his tongue between his toes and sucking on them.

“Ugh, what… What’s happening? Is it over now…?”

“Over? It’s just the beginning.”

Jeanne’s gaze slowly drifted downward.

Despite having just finished, Jerome’s arousal caught my attention again, showing no signs of tiring.

I realized this is what it feels like when your blood runs cold.

Without a word, Jerome flipped Jeanne’s body and, with his weight, forcefully inserted his member once again.

Without any preamble, the massive shaft pushed deep inside, making Jeanne’s long, pale calves twitch helplessly. Jerome, holding Jeanne’s body tightly in his arms, whispered softly.

“I love you, Jeanne.”

Jeanne, whose eyes were already half-rolled back, answered not with words but by clenching down below.

The raw, primal sound of flesh meeting flesh continued unabated.

✽ ✽ ✽

“This is rape.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, as I stared at the bruises densely covering my body in the mirror.

Right then, Jerome stepped out of the bathroom, freshly shaved, and naturally draped himself over me.

I half-expected some form of apology, assuming he had at least a shred of decency.

But that expectation was swiftly crushed when he shamelessly responded with a smirk.

“You should be grateful I let you walk.”

Oh, sure. Thanks so much.

Buttoning up my shirt in silence, I mentally debated where to rent an excavator to demolish the “Best Husband” statue in my mind.

Jerome, watching my sullen expression, chuckled softly before casually grabbing my chest from behind.

Swatting his hand away half-heartedly, I caught his gaze in the mirror. His eyes had landed on a particular spot.

“You’ll need some ointment for that.”

Jerome reached out to touch the small cut on my eyelid.

It had happened when my face hit the armrest of the sofa during one of his more “enthusiastic” episodes.

The bruises he’d caused didn’t seem to bother him, but a minor scratch apparently did.

His fingers lingered on the wound before he spoke in a calm tone.

“Perfect. Let’s talk while I treat this.”

“Talk about what?”

“My limited time.”

I turned my head sharply, locking eyes with him.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Exactly what I said. Half of my body has already been consumed by Mephisto.”

The gravity of his statement clashed violently with the tranquil atmosphere.

My expression hardened as the realization hit me.

Jerome had left me in the suite earlier, only to return moments later with a small green bottle.

He sat across from me, preparing to treat my wound, but I grabbed his wrist, my mind spinning as puzzle pieces fell into place.

“So that’s why you were coughing up blood every time you used your aura… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was planning to die.”

“…”

“I was going to teach you just enough to stand on your own. Then, I’d quietly kill myself. It seemed like the easier option.”

Images of Jerome deliberately backing me into corners flashed through my mind.

I glared at him, my anger barely contained, but he simply shrugged with a laugh.

“Don’t look at me like that. I changed my mind a while ago.”

“Don’t you ever think like that again. This is the last time I’ll tolerate hearing it.”

“Got it.”

“So, is there any way out of this?”

Jerome dabbed the pungent liquid onto my wound, humming thoughtfully.

The thought that there might be no solution made my chest tighten more than usual.

Watching me anxiously, Jerome gave a faint smile, set the green bottle aside, and calmly explained.

“I’m going to use half of my mana to separate Mephisto from myself. Once that happens, you’ll need to use Maya’s Bow to perform a miracle and shoot him.”

“Separating Mephisto from you is even possible?”

“Not for long. Just briefly. Using half my mana for that sliver of time is a gamble. Honestly, I didn’t trust you enough to tell you before.”

Arms crossed, I mulled it over.

At first glance, it sounded simple, but if it were that easy, Jerome would have resolved it long ago.

The plan was a complex collaborative effort: first, Jerome had to successfully separate Mephisto from his body, and then I had to invoke a miracle and land a precise hit.

“What if the separation fails?”

The anxiety in my voice was unmistakable.

The mere thought of Jerome dying made my mind reel. He looked at me steadily before continuing in his composed tone.

“If it fails, you must shoot me instead of Mephisto. Until now, I’ve been controlling him with my mana, but if half of it disappears, I won’t be able to hold him back. I’ll be fully consumed.”

“You’re telling me to kill you?”

“That won’t happen. But if the worst comes to pass, yes, you have to.”

I stared at him, disbelief etched on my face.

I could forgive him for hiding his suicidal intentions, now that he’d confessed.

But this—this was something else entirely.

Avoiding my gaze, I remained silent.

Sensing my hesitation, Jerome spoke firmly.

“Jeanne, look at me. What matters is that I’ve decided to live.”

“…”

“Human life is stubborn, you know. Most people who want to die can’t even succeed. But I’ve decided not to die. That alone means this fight is already half-won.”

Jerome remained unshakably calm.

Judging by his expression, you’d think I was the one who’d received a death sentence.

He snapped his fingers, urging me to pay attention, and I asked quietly.

“Why did you decide not to die?”

Jerome reached out as if to touch my face, but his hand froze mid-air.

For the first time, his ever-calm eyes faltered.

The tense atmosphere lingered until the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted us.

Without so much as a knock, the door burst open, revealing a red-haired navigator with a beaming face.

“Jeanne, Jerome, great news!”

Layla strode over confidently and handed me a tightly rolled scroll.

As soon as I unrolled it and scanned its contents, my eyes widened.

* * *