A Way to Confirm Your Husband’s True Feelings - Chapter 43

But Caesar’s expression was so serious that Beatrice silently laid her head down on the pillow.

Now that she thought about it, in the year since their marriage, this was actually the first time they had seen each other’s bare bodies in full. Perhaps this was what it truly meant to become a real married couple.

Embarrassed yet awash in this new sentiment, Beatrice heard Caesar whisper softly.

“Beatrice, I want to see all of you, too.”

At his words, a question mark popped into her mind.

See all of me? Isn’t he already looking?

She was already completely undressed—what more was there to show? As Beatrice puzzled over the meaning, she realized what he truly meant a moment later.

“Caesar!”

She had prepared herself through her intense study the night before, convinced she could now handle even more explicit acts without hesitation. But the shame she had only imagined and the real shame she now felt were as different as heaven and earth.

Caesar slipped his hand behind her knees and gently pushed, careful not to hurt her. Her legs naturally bent, lifting her hips and waist off the bed. Folded nearly in half like a baby having its diaper changed, the hidden place she herself had never fully seen was completely exposed to her husband’s gaze.

No matter how much she had braced herself, this was a level of shame far beyond anything she could accept.

“Caesar, let go. This is… ugh, don’t look, it’s ugly…”

She didn’t even know exactly what that part of her looked like—but just the position she was in felt horribly undignified. Beatrice struggled to pry Caesar’s fingers from her knees, but he didn’t move at all, his gaze fixed unflinchingly on her most intimate area.

“You are beautiful everywhere. I thought I would be fine never seeing it… but I’ve changed my mind.”

Caesar’s eyes, filled with a predatory wildness reminiscent of their very first meeting, examined in detail the glistening pink flesh damp from her earlier climax, and the entrance of her body now leaking clear nectar. Like a raptor just before its strike, his eyes were sharp and focused solely on her.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to try something new?”

Of course she had. But what she had meant was that she wanted to do something for him.

“Yes, but this is… ah, Caesar!”

Before she could even resist, Caesar’s lips descended onto her most private place. Beatrice trembled violently like an animal caught in a trap, helpless as his mouth devoured her.

“Hah, no, ah—Caesar…”

The act, completely new to her, felt unfamiliar and strange. Her voice, at first filled with rejection, gradually softened into a nasal whimper as time passed.

His hot tongue slithered like a snake, parting her tender folds in long strokes. It felt so odd that she instinctively kicked her feet into the air, but soon, a faint pleasure bloomed at the edge of the sensation.

It was ticklish, a little electric—a strange feeling, still faint. She wanted to explore what it was… and now that she thought of it, she vaguely recalled a few of the illustrations depicting this scene.

“Ah, mnngh…”

Flattening his tongue wide, Caesar licked up the wet entrance and the tightly closed folds like a dog, finally brushing over the swollen bud now engorged with desire. Beatrice felt herself becoming immersed in the sensation he gave her.

Realizing she had stopped resisting, Caesar now leisurely tasted her in full. Chup, slurp—obscene sounds echoed, but it seemed Beatrice was the only one on this bed who felt embarrassed by them.

Gripping her soft, plump b******s with both hands, Caesar used his tongue to lift and lick apart each layered petal of her s*x. The nectar seeping out was as sweet as honey, and the tender inner flesh, hot and yielding, felt like overripe fruit.

The more blatant Caesar’s tongue became, the more vivid Beatrice’s senses became in response. It felt strange… yet, at the same time, welcome. It gave her a sense of danger, like something she shouldn’t be doing, but it felt too good to stop.

“Hnn… nn, ah…!”

Overwhelmed by this dazzling, unfamiliar pleasure—beyond anything she could handle—Beatrice bit her hand to stifle her moans.

But Caesar showed no regard for her trembling state. He continued to lick her obsessively.

Just as he had earlier with her b*****s, his tongue now fixated on a single spot. His pointed tip pushed, rubbed, and pressed down repeatedly as if stamping a seal. Each time, Beatrice’s mind went blank, her breath catching from the waves of dizzying pleasure.