The upper body that went under the sofa and the waist didnât come out. Surprised Damia reached back trying to figure out what went wrong.
âOh, my. The ruffle······.â
The ruffle, which was lying calmly when she had crawled in, flipped in the opposite direction and swelled so that her body was tightly stuck under the sofa.
âGood heavens.â
She rubbed her forehead. The carpet on the floor was so soft that her knees and elbows didnât hurt but instead, she was in mental anguish.
What a disgrace that a grown-up lady stuck under the coach in the reception room of someone elseâs house? She couldnât even guess what Akkard would think if he saw this scene.
Desperate, Damia puffed out with effort to pull her ruffle and get out to the point she looked like a red dragon. But it was in vain. She was stuck under the sofa and couldnât get out.
Creakâ
[t1v: oh god, *dies in secondhand embarrassment*]
To make matters worse, she heard the door opening of the drawing room. Damia closed her eyes tightly.
ââ¦â¦ â
The person who came in didnât say anything, as if they were shocked by the scene in front of them. Damia couldnât stand the silence. The short stillness seemed to hit her like a rock.
âSebastian······?â
asked Damia, her voice trembling and her eyes closed. But, there was no answer to her pathetic question.
âItâs not Sebastian.â
Damia realized by intuition. If it was Sebastian who came in, he would have come running and asked if she was okay, faithful to his duty as a butler.
âHow utterly embarrassing.â
Damia, who roughly guessed the identity of the newcomer, buried her face in both hands. Sure enough, the voice that broke the heavy silence was very familiar.
âI came down because a guest arrived.â
At the same time, the sound of heavy footsteps approached. The footsteps halted right behind Damia, who was lying down. And Akkardâs voice noting the absurdity fell from overhead,
âI didnât expect to see this.â
ââ¦â¦â¦Iâm sorry. There were circumstancesâcan you help me?â
There was nothing more to be ashamed of. Damia asked, full of the desire to die. Akkard bent down and examined her.
The large manâs hand covered her sides and swept down her waist over the thin cloth. It was stimulating and made her strangely nervous. When Damia twisted her body, Akkard spat out, annoyed:
âStay still. Itâs because I canât see under there.â
Along with the command, Akkardâs hand gently pressed down on her waist. Damia, who couldnât move, felt an unknown heat spreading on her cheeks and waited patiently.
âTsk.â
Soon after, the sound of tongue clicking against the back of his teeth fell sharply over her head. Damia flinched. A voice with a rich resonant explained the situation.
âThe bottom of the sofa doesnât seem to be properly finished. The ruffle is tightly entangled with the wood grain. If you donât tear or cut the fabric, I wonât fall out.â
Damia sighed at his words. And she said in a resigned tone,
âItâs okay if the dress gets ruined. Justâ¦..please get me out of here.â
âBefore that, first tell me why this happened.â
For the first time, Akkardâs sober voice held a smile. In case there was any doubt, he was having a lot of fun with this situation, and was a mean man. He seemed not willing to help until he heard Damiaâs answer.
Very bitter and resentful, Damia knew she was at a disadvantage. Reluctantly she answered Akkardâs question.
âMy earring fell off, so I tried to pick it upâ¦â¦.â
âI see,â
he answered briefly.
He grabbed Damiaâs waist with both hands. Maybe he was trying to pull her out?
His large hands that remained even after wrapping all over the thin waist were strong and reassuring. Damia waited for a while, but Akkard did not help her. Instead·····.
âHey!â
A small exclamation came out of Damiaâs mouth. It was because his hand that was caressing her waist came down and unexpectedly grabbed her butt.
âUh, whatâWhat are you doing?â
âDo you want me to take you out of there?ââ
Akkard smirked and asked her.
In the meantime, his hand was still gently squeezing Damiaâs ass, letting it go, and stroking it.
Damia pulled herself out to avoid his ticklish yet obscene hand play. But instead she felt like she was shaking her hips with a cage tightly wrapped around her waist.
Damia, who was very ashamed of herself, shouted and pleaded.
âStop playing around and get me out of here!â
âIf you want me to take it out, Damia.â
His voice, which had been playful so far, suddenly gained an erotic aura.
âBeg more politely.â