Chapter 46
Even in the midst of it all, Beatrice’s kind nature made her pause to consider Caesar’s condition.
“If you’re tired, then…”
According to the new books, a man with strong vitality could e*******e multiple times in one night, but it also said that many men couldn’t. It explained in detail that, generally, it could take quite a while to get e***t again after release.
For some reason, Beatrice had just assumed her husband was obviously the former type. But even a healthy man, if exhausted or unwell…
“No, I‑I don’t think that’s it.”
To check, she reached back with her hand—and caught something hard and menacing, still at full size.
She’d only looked at it earlier, never touched it properly. As she wrapped her hand around it and slowly stroked up and down, a rough sound escaped from Caesar’s throat.
“Beatrice, if you keep going like this… ngh…”
From the look of his body, it was more than possible, and he was clearly still aroused. So why was he rejecting her?
Could it be that having fulfilled his marital obligation once, he was now done—tired of s*x with a bothersome wife?
Beatrice’s misunderstanding once again began to spiral.
“D‑Do you really hate doing it with me that much? Was it boring? Unpleasant?”
But if that were true, he’d looked like he was enjoying it too much for that to make sense.
“What in the world are you talking about? Ngh, Beatrice, please stop…”
“If you didn’t hate it, then let’s do it again. Please?”
As she continued stroking the now slightly slickened shaft, Beatrice pleaded with him.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Beatrice nodded eagerly, ignoring the warning tone creeping into his voice.
“You’ll regret it.”
“We’ll see about that.”
With that bold declaration, she moved with renewed confidence.
Her body, already thoroughly softened and soaked from earlier, was more than ready. It was time to put what she’d learned into practice.
Beatrice raised herself to guide her husband’s member into her. Because it was so long and thick, she had to fully lift her thighs to position herself, but nothing mattered to her now except fulfilling her goal.
“Beatrice, your clothes—what are you…”
Startled by the sudden pressure on the head of his c**k without any warning, Caesar half-rose from the bed.
Even then, Beatrice focused solely on pushing his massive length inside her. Thanks to her loosened state, she managed to take in about half, and let out a heavy breath.
But then, something felt strange.
This feeling…
The part halfway inside felt exactly like what she had grown used to during the past six months—her husband’s manhood, just as she knew it. The weight, the girth, the way it wedged tightly into her walls like a wedge.
But when she reached down to feel for herself, she realized that nearly half still remained outside.
There’s no more space to take it…
No matter how she adjusted her position, there was no room to accept the rest. Her body already felt so full it seemed dangerous to try and take in more.
But shouldn’t it all go in?
At that moment, another voice echoed in her mind—an instinct, a hunch whispered to her.
There were no pictures in the book where anything was left outside.
In the e****c illustrations she had studied with red eyes, the man and woman had always been joined with no gaps at all.
Suddenly, a realization flashed through her.
Her husband had never inserted himself fully. He had been holding back, always, for her sake.
Her first feeling was admiration for his thoughtfulness, but what followed was discomfort.
That was how Caesar always was after they married. He cared for things she never even considered, paid attention to things she wouldn’t have imagined.
If only he had told her. If he’d just said something, she wouldn’t have been this shocked.
She couldn’t help feeling hurt and resentful toward her husband, who closed off his feelings, kept everything hidden from her, as if sealing away her eyes and ears.
And what had that led to? Bottled-up dissatisfaction that finally exploded into complaints to his close aides.
He should have just been honest from the start.
Swept up in a storm of emotion and overstimulation, Beatrice’s thoughts spiraled further… into the belief that everything might have been her fault.
Yes. If she were in his place—with a wife he had married for stability, who could do nothing but sit prettily like a hothouse flower, too fragile to even satisfy him in bed—she’d be sick of it too.
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