Chapter 12: No More Chances (NC-17)

La-Orchan’s heart surrendered completely. She had never been able to resist Phiengwad’s sweet pleading. Slowly, her grip on Phiengwad’s wrist loosened, giving in. Phiengwad pressed her soft lips to La-Orchan’s smooth, delicate skin, starting at her graceful neck and trailing up to her small ear.

A soft moan escaped La-Orchan’s lips, carried by the waves of her rising desire. She surrendered herself completely to Phiengwad, allowing her lover to indulge in her every whim.

Phiengwad slowly untied the cloth wrapped around La-Orchan’s chest, revealing her bare, flawless form beneath. Her smooth, fair skin, radiant and untouched, captivated Phiengwad entirely, igniting a burning fire within her.

“I adore this—seeing you like this, without anything on. You’re breathtaking,” Phiengwad whispered sweetly, her voice laced with satisfaction as she leaned in closer.

Her lips met La-Orchan’s skin, gentle yet brimming with fiery passion, far more intense than ever before. La-Orchan felt the heat radiating from Phiengwad’s touch as her lips began to trail across her body. Her own body writhed in response, moving in time with the rhythm Phiengwad orchestrated.

Phiengwad’s hands glided lower, resting on La-Orchan’s hips, her touch firm and deliberate, increasing the intensity of their shared longing. Her lips continued to explore, teasingly moving lower but stopping just short of the place La-Orchan yearned to be touched.

“P’Phiengwad, please stop teasing me,” La-Orchan murmured, her voice a delicate mix of frustration and desire. Her body writhed beneath the tantalizing trail of Phiengwad’s lips, which never ventured where she most craved them to be.

“In that case, my La-Orchan,” Phiengwad murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, “you’ll have to tell me exactly what you desire me to do.”

“P’Phiengwad, are you toying with me?” La-Orchan asked softly, her breath catching with each word.

Phiengwad chuckled. “Then why don’t you tease me back, my love?”

La-Orchan pouted slightly, the swirl of emotions within her leaving her both flustered and yearning. She wanted more, needed Phiengwad to touch her in the way that would bring her the purest bliss.

Phiengwad said nothing, but the desire burning in her eyes spoke volumes, far more powerful than any words could. She leaned down, her lips pressing passionately against La-Orchan’s neck before trailing down to her collarbone and the smooth expanse of her chest. The sound of fervent kisses and the heated rhythm of their breaths filled the room, creating an atmosphere charged with undeniable intensity.

La-Orchan shuddered as Phiengwad’s tongue brushed against her sensitive peak, a sweet moan spilling from her lips and echoing through the space. Her body writhed instinctively, responding to the rhythm Phiengwad skillfully set.

“P’Phiengwad... I need you so much…” La-Orchan called out, her voice trembling with raw longing, each touch from her lover igniting her desires further.

Phiengwad raised her head slightly, her voice husky as she whispered, “I need you just as much, my love.”

Her slender hand slid down to La-Orchan’s hidden warmth, her fingers moving with deliberate slowness yet firm intent. Feeling the damp heat beneath her touch, a small smile curled on Phiengwad’s lips as she began to increase the rhythm.

La-Orchan gasped sharply, her body arching into the touch, surrendering completely to the sensations. Her moans grew louder as she clung to Phiengwad’s shoulders, her nails digging into her lover’s back in an effort to release the overwhelming feelings surging through her.

“P’Phiengwad… ah…” La-Orchan tried to speak, but her words dissolved into soft, breathy moans.

Phiengwad didn’t stop, her fingers moving with deeper intent and a quicker pace, drawing La-Orchan closer to the peak of her ecstasy. La-Orchan’s body trembled, writhing under Phiengwad’s touch, as the wave of bliss threatened to consume her entirely.

“Do you like it... La-Orchan?” Phiengwad whispered, her lips pressing a kiss to her lover’s neck as she quickened the movement of her fingers, delving deeper with each motion.

La-Orchan shuddered, her body tensing as she reached her release. A loud moan echoed through the room as her hands clawed at Phiengwad’s back, leaving red marks as evidence of the passion they shared.

Phiengwad paused for a moment, watching La-Orchan as she lay breathless, her body glistening with sweat that caught the faint flicker of candlelight in the room.

La-Orchan’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her flushed face glowing with warmth. Her eyes, soft and full of desire, met Phiengwad’s gaze as her lover caressed her face gently. Despite her exhaustion, a deep yearning stirred within La-Orchan—she wanted more, craved more of Phiengwad’s love.

“P'Phiengwad...” La-Orchan whispered, her voice low but filled with urgency.

Phiengwad paused briefly, her gaze meeting La-Orchan’s. The determination and longing in La-Orchan’s eyes were unmistakable. “Do you want me to continue?” Phiengwad asked, her voice husky.

A small smile curved La-Orchan’s lips as she reached out to touch Phiengwad’s face. “I want you to consume me completely, to take all of me as much as you can.”

La-Orchan’s bold, straightforward words drew a soft laugh from Phiengwad. She stared at her lover, who was both daring and alluring all at once. “My La-Orchan, you’re utterly adorable... This time, you’re asking for it yourself? You must really want it,” Phiengwad teased, her tone playful yet charged with affection.

La-Orchan smiled sweetly. “Will you do it for me, P'Phiengwad?”

“If you ask for it, I’ll devour my wife completely,”

Phiengwad whispered before leaning down. Her hands gently parted La-Orchan’s legs, and her lips descended onto the most sensitive part of her lover’s body. With deliberate movements, she began to ignite a fire that was impossible to resist.

La-Orchan’s body writhed beneath her touch, a moan escaping her lips, unrestrained. “Ah… P'Phiengwad… faster…”

Phiengwad responded immediately, her actions quickening in pace. The sound of La-Orchan’s sweet moans filled the room as Phiengwad didn’t falter, her tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to bring her lover immense pleasure.

“P'Phiengwad… I… I can’t take it anymore!” La-Orchan cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her body tensed and shuddered as she reached her peak, overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure that consumed her. Her fingers dug into Phiengwad’s shoulders, grasping tightly.

Phiengwad collapsed beside La-Orchan, wrapping her arms around her lover in a tight embrace. She leaned in, whispering softly into her ear,

“I’m utterly captivated by my wife.”

And so, another night passed where La-Orchan broke her vow, all for one reason: she loved Phiengwad.

.

.

In another part of the house, while Phiengwad and La-Orchan were entwined in a passionate embrace upon the bed, La-Orduen sat quietly before her dressing table. She gazed at her reflection in the large mirror, her expression clouded with thought. The rhythmic motion of her hand combing through her long, silky hair abruptly ceased as the wooden comb snapped in half, its pieces clattering onto the surface of the vanity.

La-Orduen's eyes fixed on the broken comb, her vision blurring as thoughts consumed her. This comb had been a gift from their mother, presented to her and La-Orchan as a matching set. Now, one half of the pair lay fractured—symbolizing the growing rift in their bond as twin sisters.

Images of Phiengwad looking tenderly at La-Orchan while presenting the silk and fabric gifts earlier that day replayed vividly in her mind. A storm of conflicting emotions churned within her—confusion, pain, and a heartbeat racing with unexplainable feelings.

She knew well that the two shared affection for one another. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at her soul. Was her determination to hinder the love between her twin sister and Phiengwad truly justified?

The turmoil in her heart grew unbearable. Slowly, La-Orduen closed her eyes, tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. In a voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking to an unseen presence, she murmured,

"Mother... did I do the right thing in forcing La-Orchan to make that vow?"

Her voice trembled with doubt and fear, heavy with sorrow and guilt. The pain in her heart and the fire of her remorse burned ceaselessly, like a flame that refused to be extinguished.

As guilt weighed heavily on her heart, a vivid image of La-Orchan swearing her vow before the sacred Buddha resurfaced in La-Orduen’s mind. It was as though a whispered reminder echoed within her, recalling the solemn promise her twin sister had once made to her.

La-Orduen’s eyes hardened with resolve.

“La-Orchan, when I made you vow before the Buddha, why didn’t you have the courage to admit that you loved P’Phiengwad as well?”

she murmured to herself.

“You had the chance to speak the truth, but you didn’t. So if I take P’Phiengwad from you, it can’t be helped, can it?”

Yet, one question remained unanswered in La-Orduen’s own heart—a question she had never dared to confront. If La-Orchan had been brave enough to confess her love for Phiengwad that night, would La-Orduen have stepped aside?

Or would her own love for Phiengwad have driven her to do whatever it took to claim her for herself, no matter the cost?

Even if it meant sacrificing the bond she shared with her twin sister.

...

The following morning, at the Ayutthaya-style Thai house of Lord Krai, a delicious breakfast was meticulously prepared by the skilled household cooks. Lord Krai, Lady Dao-Rueang, Sir Det-Wijit, and Phiengwad sat around the table enjoying the meal. The warm atmosphere was punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Lord Krai glanced at his youngest daughter with a look of affection before speaking in a gentle tone.

“I heard from Gulab that yesterday the sons of Lord Kaew and Lord Pichai delivered a bounty of fine silk and fabric to you. With so many suitors bringing gifts to our home, is there not one who catches your eye?”

Phiengwad gave her father a sweet smile. How could he possibly know that all the fabrics had already been sent to her beloved, Lady La-Orchan?

“No one has caught my eye yet, Father,” she replied sweetly.

Sir Det-Wijit, her eldest brother, seized the opportunity to tease his sister.

“I pity those poor young men who keep courting you, unaware that you show no interest in marriage.”

Phiengwad maintained her gentle smile as she responded to her brother.

“If I don’t wish to marry, but no one here wants me to stay in this house, why not give me the land at the back? I’ll build my own home there.”

“You always jest, Phiengwad. Sooner or later, you must marry,”

Lady Dao-Rueang interjected, her voice tinged with concern. Both her husband and son indulged Phiengwad so much that she refused to consider marriage seriously.

“Understood, Mother,” Phiengwad responded softly, carefully serving her mother’s favorite dish to her plate as a gesture of affection. “But I’m not ready to marry any man just yet.”

“I heard you’ve grown close to the twin daughters of Lord Noradit. Since when did this friendship begin?”

Lord Krai asked unexpectedly. Phiengwad froze momentarily, a flicker of concern passing through her eyes, though she quickly regained her composure. She offered a sweet smile as if nothing was amiss.

“I happened to meet the twins at the temple during a merit-making ceremony. We got along well and became friends rather quickly.”

Lord Krai nodded in approval, his expression reflecting satisfaction.

“That’s good. Building connections is always wise. Their father is one of the wealthiest nobles in the city. If their family had a son, I’d be eager to see you become their daughter-in-law. It’s a pity they’re all daughters. And as for Sir Det-Wijit, he already has a lover.”

Phiengwad maintained her polite smile, refraining from making any further comment.

“I heard Sir Ramdecha has been courting La-Orchan, the younger twin, isn’t that right?”

Sir Det-Wijit chimed in.

Phiengwad nodded in acknowledgment, carefully concealing her displeasure behind an expression of calm composure at the mention of the man she secretly considered her greatest rival.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“They seem like a fitting match—both are well-born and good-looking,” her brother remarked.

Phiengwad fell silent, choosing not to voice her thoughts. However, her heart burned with jealousy at the thought of Sir Ramdecha pursuing her beloved. From the day she had encountered him at the market, she had taken an instant dislike to him, and the news of his persistent courtship only fueled her resentment further.

She met her brother’s gaze and replied firmly, “La-Orchan already has someone she favors.”

Sir Det-Wijit paused, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, intrigued.

“Is that so? Who might that be, Phiengwad?”

Phiengwad didn’t answer directly but instead spoke in an even tone, her words laced with subtle defiance.

“If you happen to meet Sir Ramdecha, kindly hint to him that he should set his sights on someone else.”

…