A Way to Confirm Your Husband’s True Feelings - Chapter 42

Watching him, Beatrice saw her husband look at her for a moment, then begin undressing without hesitation. He seemed like a marionette moving solely by her command.

His fingers, somewhat impatient, popped open the buttons of his shirt, and as she watched, she suddenly reached out to stop him.

“Ah, no. I’ll do it. I want to.”

Raising her body halfway, Beatrice began to slowly remove Caesar’s clothing. Honestly, she was afraid that if she left it to his hands, everything would proceed far too quickly—she wanted to slow it down.

Even without trying to be deliberately slow, unbuttoning his shirt under his devouring gaze was no easy task.

Caesar, seemingly frustrated by her slow movements, let out a low sigh, almost like a groan. Though it was something she’d initiated herself, tonight Caesar felt unfamiliar to her in many ways. Because of that, it wasn’t even their wedding night, and yet her heart pounded harder than it had back then.

“Ah…”

Finally, after undoing all the buttons and pulling the loosened shirt down his arms, Caesar’s bare torso was revealed. Beatrice became freshly aware of her husband’s intimidating physique.

She had already known he had a good body even with his clothes on. The outline visible through the thin shirt, the feel when he embraced her—she could tell it was a thoroughly trained body. But seeing it with her own eyes was something else entirely.

“Your body looks… very firm.”

Feeling she had to say something, anything, she mumbled the words that came to her. Unconsciously, she ran her hand down his well-developed chest and the beautifully sculpted abs, sighing softly.

It was a form as battle-hardened as it was severe. His thick arms, muscular and defined, his broad, tree-like waist—there wasn’t a single part that looked easy or soft.

There was a vitality to a body trained to its limits. Though he was just sitting quietly, he seemed like a racehorse waiting for the signal to launch, his body overflowing with compressed power.

How much training, how many trials had he endured to become like this? The old scars scattered across his upper body made Beatrice pause. But only for a moment.

“I’ll let you admire it as much as you want later.”

Unable to endure any longer, Caesar—who had only been breathing heavily at her touch—grabbed her small hand.

Following his lead, Beatrice reached for the buckle of his trousers. With her face burning red, she hesitated for a moment, then finally unfastened it.

But when she tried to pull down both trousers and undergarments at once with her eyes tightly shut, her attempt failed.

“Why…?”

Opening her eyes with a question on her face, Beatrice realized the cause. It was her husband’s manhood, frighteningly engorged.

At this point, shouldn’t her face have exploded? Feeling the intense heat radiating from it, she cautiously tugged the fabric caught on the obstacle.

“Ugh.”

Caesar, who had been watching her every move without missing a beat, grimaced and bent slightly at the waist at that moment.

With a bounce, the thick and heavy shaft, dragged along by the cloth, sprang up toward his navel. The sight was not quite what she had expected, and Beatrice was flustered—but more than that, Caesar’s reaction caught her attention.

“S‑Sorry. Did it hurt a lot?”

His short groan lingered in her mind. It wasn’t just a s****l organ—it was a vital, vulnerable part of the body. She worried she might’ve handled such a delicate area too carelessly.

“No. I’m fine.”

Assured by Caesar that he was truly alright, Beatrice’s gaze was drawn downward again, as if pulled by a magnet. Come to think of it, despite how many times he had entered her, this was the first time she had seen his p***s directly.

“…It’s big.”

No other words came to mind. What Beatrice said was a simple, honest observation. If Caesar’s bare torso was aesthetically beautiful and worthy of admiration, this was… just big. Completely different from the many illustrations of manhoods she’d seen in last night’s books.

‘The color… it’s pink…’

It was clean and clear in hue, but that didn’t mean it was pretty. E***t between his rock-like thighs, it was more fearsome than anything else. The shaft, flushed red with blood and bulging veins, gave it an almost menacing appearance.

A question arose in Beatrice’s mind: How had I been able to take this inside me all this time? The old saying “ignorance is bliss” must have been made for moments like this.

Maybe it really would have been better not to know. Should she just ask to turn off the light after all…? But more than that—how uncomfortable must it be for Caesar to live carrying around something like that?

As countless thoughts spun through her mind, Caesar, now having fully removed the trousers Beatrice had half-undone, gently pushed her down. Only then did she blink back to awareness.

She hadn’t even gotten the chance to touch it yet…!