— Ah… Your Grace…!
Eileen's brilliant blonde hair spread across the white sheets as she pressed the lily against her chest. Lifting her head, she met Cesare's gaze. He hovered over her like a dangerous predator, his red irises gleaming even in the dim light. The intensity of that moment sent a shiver down her spine.
The man's hands descended firmly, resting on either side of her head, trapping it. His gaze held her motionless, as if he had bewitched her. The prolonged eye contact made Eileen's heart race erratically. Unable to bear the intensity any longer, she began to turn her head away, trying to escape that magnetic force.
Look at me.
A gentle command, intertwined with an underground current of power, echoed from the man.
Accustomed to giving orders, Cesare knew exactly how to assert himself. Reluctantly, Eileen slowly turned her face, meeting those intense eyes once more.
Supported by one arm, Cesare used his other hand to trace the outline of her lips with the tips of his gloved fingers. The cold touch of the leather sent an involuntary shiver through Eileen. The softly lit room seemed to envelop them in an intimate and stuffy atmosphere. Each glide of the man's hand over her mouth made her breathing more irregular, until, breathless, she managed to speak:
— You… came back…
It was a belated greeting, a timid effort to ease the tension that gripped her. For some reason, Cesare seemed amused by this clumsy attempt.
- … Yes.
He pulled her into his arms with a gentle, careful movement. His body pressed against hers; Eileen could feel the firmness of his uniform against her own soft skin. When she tried to move her legs, she found that the man's thick thigh was already between them, preventing any movement. With their bodies intertwined, Cesare whispered in her ear.
— I'm back, Eileen.
A trace of alcohol lingered on her breath, proof that she had actively participated in the wedding toasts. As the center of attention at the celebration, she seemed to have participated generously. While enveloped in his embrace, Eileen discreetly inhaled his scent.
Unlike her father's strong, repulsive odor, which made her open all the windows in the house whenever he arrived drunk, the man's scent was strangely sweet, almost fruity, like sweet wine with a sour touch.
A shiver ran through her as she inhaled the intoxicating aroma. Cesare, in turn, took a deep breath before exhaling, his warm breath against the sensitive skin of her neck. Then, he slowly ran his tongue over that area, as if savoring a sweet treat, alternating between licking, sucking, and gently nibbling. Red marks began to appear, revealing the path he had taken, and to his surprise, Eileen felt no repulsion… she felt pleasure. When their lips met in a deep, ardent kiss, a sigh escaped her throat.
The man stepped back just enough to catch his breath, leaving behind a trail of hickeys on her neck. The instant his hand brushed the strap of her silk nightgown, a sound cut through the heavy silence. "Achoo!" Eileen sniffled softly, horrified.
"Forgive me, Your Grace… " she muttered, her cheeks burning more than the heat of the man's touch.
Cesare, with a glimpse of amusement dancing in his red irises, chuckled. Embarrassed in that almost nonexistent garment, she had just broken the mood with a sneeze. It was almost comical.
"Are you cold? " he asked, his fingers gliding through her tangled blonde hair, his voice thick with a suppressed laugh.
"Yes, just a little. " In truth, there wasn't much difference between what she had already removed and what remained on her body, she thought. "I believe the sudden sneeze was because her uniform might have brushed against me. The medals and buttons… they're cold and hard, " Eileen explained seriously.
His laughter deepened, a low, hoarse sound, and he moved away slightly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Eileen imitated him, her face still flushed.
No one has ever asked me to undress before.
She tried to retort, but realizing the connotation of her own words, she fell silent. An awkward silence formed, until, hesitantly, she whispered:
Well... y-you're going to do it anyway...
Her response was a murmur, lacking confidence. She had mentally prepared herself for the evening, but beyond that, she didn't know what to expect. All she had learned about sex was what Cesare had taught her.
Okay, then I should do it. My wife told me to take it off.
The man murmured, raising an eyebrow, his husky voice carrying a seductive tone. With slow, provocative movements, he began to unbutton his uniform. Eileen's eyes widened in surprise as the shirt buttons gushed open, revealing his collarbone, the firm skin of his robust chest, and his ripped abs.
Eileen, redder than ever, in a shade that rivaled the crimson of her eyes, watched, mesmerized, a whirlwind of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her. Her breath caught as a strand of hair escaped, revealing her delicately flushed ears. A seductive smile lingered on the man's lips as he reached for the last button of his shirt; noticing her reaction, he leaned in slightly and asked in a bold tone:
Do you want to play?
Eileen's eyes widened at the audacious suggestion. Her face turned even redder, and she trembled uncontrollably.
"M-Me? " she stammered, surprised, her voice almost inaudible. "Exchange it, Your Grace... I mean... Cesare?"
"You don't want to? " he teased, a suggestive smile curving his lips.
- It's not that…
Heat flooded his face, and a tremor ran through his hand before he could stop it. But before any further protest could be formulated, Cesare seized her hand. Her touch was cold and firm against the man's feverish skin. He pressed it decisively against his own chest, and the heat of his bare skin sent an electric shock through it.
Cesare's touch was a slow, almost calculated exploration. His fingers slid over hers, guiding her along the defined contours of his chest, the taut muscles trembling beneath Eileen's fingertips. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips as he gently guided her over a nipple, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
The descent continued slowly, his hand guiding hers down her sculpted torso, the firm bulges of her abdominal muscles contrasting sharply with the smooth surface of her warm skin.
Eileen's fingers, hesitant at first, began to trace their own path across Cesare's chest. Each touch was a shock, both exciting and frightening. A small, nervous sound escaped, almost a plea, almost a protest:
— N-No—
But the word died in her mouth as she swallowed hard.
Those muscles weren't just for admiration, they were forged in battle. Yet, beneath her fingertips, they seemed like a work of art. Every curve, every contour was a silent testament to her strength and history, a quiet echo of her past. The texture was unlike anything she had ever felt, a contrast between the muscle's rigidity and the skin's softness; this combination sent shivers down her spine with every exploratory movement.
'This man's body is stunningly beautiful.'
When Eileen reached the area she wanted to touch, her fingers hesitated. She felt a texture different from the smooth skin she had encountered before.
The moment he confirmed that strangeness, it was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. Instinctively, his hand grabbed the man's uniform shirt, opening it with a firm movement to both sides.
— Ah… — the sound escaped, almost a lament.
Cesare's body was a mosaic of scars, etched lines that told stories of battles fought, each a brutal poem carved in crimson on his skin. Eileen's fingertips traced his chest carefully, finding the first of these stories. It was an irregular line, a silent testament to the brutality he had faced. Her touch lingered there, like a question she dared not speak aloud.
Suddenly, a burning sensation in her nose threatened to break the heavy silence that enveloped them. Biting her lip, Eileen struggled to stifle a sob, while the tears welling in her eyes revealed a confused mix of emotions.
Cesare watched her in silence, without interrupting the gentle touch that glided across her skin. When he noticed the glint of tears in her eyes, he frowned slightly.
I didn't mean to make you cry.
Feeling a pang of unease in his chest, the man, the one responsible, seemed to try to downplay the seriousness of the situation. He finished taking off his shirt and then pulled Eileen into a comforting hug. Gently kissing her tear-stained cheek, he hugged her tightly, as if consoling a distressed child.
"Don't cry, Eileen, " he murmured softly, his voice comforting and reassuring.
She hugged him tightly, her emotions swirling in turmoil. Despite her efforts to hold back tears, a fleeting thought crossed her mind, causing her to lift her head and meet his gaze.
"Please, show me the bottom part too, " Eileen asked, her voice soft but determined. She feared his lower half might contain even more scars. Her mind raced with thoughts about whether there was any way to stop the Imperial Commander-in-Chief from going to war, and this prompted her to insist, urging the man to open up.
Cesare arched his eyebrows in surprise, smiled awkwardly, but obediently followed Eileen's order. He gently sat her on the bed and began to loosen her belt. Click – the metallic sound echoed softly in the silent room.
He moved closer to Eileen, hesitantly, and asked:
Are you sure? Do you really want to see it?
Yes! Quickly.
It was a little embarrassing to have her hip height right in front of her face, but Eileen still answered firmly. However, as soon as the words escaped her lips, she regretted them.
— …?
With a slow, deliberate movement, the man removed the last layers of clothing. Eileen's eyes widened as what was slowly being revealed became clear, and she instinctively covered her eyes with her hand.
Suddenly, tears welled up in Eileen's eyes. Memories of what had happened in the brick house flooded her mind like an overwhelming tide. That day, Cesare had tormented her terribly, but deep down, he himself hadn't done anything. He probably had said something similar on that occasion.
"I don't want to scare you."
Cesare laughed in a way that was laden with meaning, as if he were someone who needed to escape something before the wedding, when he said those words…
Her face pale, she stared at the writhing monster before her. Though she dared not touch it, it seemed to grow and move its head on its own, as if responding to Eileen's fixed gaze.
"Didn't you like it now that you've seen it? " Cesare chuckled lazily, letting out a soft groan. "You said you wanted to see it, Eileen, " he reminded her, his hoarse voice carrying a hint of amusement.
To be continued…