My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 283

The mint only has an alluring meaning to the two of us.

 

—If showing your face to another woman is a honey trap, then getting a mint from another man is a come-on.

—…I’ll carry it.

 

Only then did Edwin’s rigid face soften, revealing a smile.

 

—By the way, we shouldn’t underestimate the Constanz forces. They clearly have a psychic unit.

—…Pardon? Psychics?

—They can see the future.

 

If that were true, Giselle would have been long since discovered. Where had this man gotten such information?

 

—What happened?

—They called you the Duchess.

—Ha….

 

It was just nonsense.

 

—Didn’t you hear me earlier? I said it was out of the question.

 

Edwin narrowed his eyes sharply and cast a look of reproach but said nothing. This made her feel as though her joke had been taken seriously.

She glanced at the man driving along the dark street, and it was when the light changed and they stopped that he moved. Edwin placed his interlocked hands on the steering wheel and leaned his forehead against them. The way his eyes were tightly squeezed shut was unusual.

Is he sick somewhere?

The moment she grabbed his shoulder in surprise, a tattle-tale masquerading as a prayer began.

 

—God, I swore to you that I would keep my purity for my future wife. But the woman who took the purity I so carefully guarded says she won’t take responsibility.

—My God, demanding I take responsibility by marrying you just because I took your purity is so old-fashioned and provincial. I thought I’d traveled back in time about 300 years.

—And where did you learn that line about playing with and then abandoning some innocent lady, and why are you repeating it?

 

Both of them were equally cliché. The car started moving again, and the man, who was fiddling with Giselle’s cheeks—protruding from her trying to hold back her laughter with her lips tightly pressed—made a sudden, unexpected claim.

 

—You already admitted you’re the Duchess.

—When did I say that?

 

Had this man stolen not only Lorenz’s lust but also his habit of making false accusations?

 

—You said it clearly with your own mouth. The Duchess doesn’t cook.

—Ah, that was….

 

She had only repeated what Edwin had said, and now it was counted as an admission! She hadn’t realized until now that she had been tricked by a foxy tactician.

 

—…You’re sly.

 

Having nothing to say, she pretended to be indignant at having been outsmarted, crossed her legs, turned her body away, and looked out the window, when a large hand covered her thigh. He stroked it up and down, then squeezed. If she hadn’t been wearing a skirt, his five outstretched fingers would have dug deep into her inner thigh.

The seductive atmosphere he was creating made her think he had shifted his goal from marriage—which they couldn’t pursue immediately—to sex. That was until the car stopped in front of Magnolia Terrace.

 

—Giselle, why don’t you want to get married?

 

It seemed this wasn’t a topic he had brought up to end with a joke.

 

—It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that I haven’t seriously considered marriage yet. It’s not the time.

 

The country is at war, and they are both tied to an operation that carries the burden of expectation to end that war. Thus, Edwin also believes it isn’t the time to marry.

However, Giselle might have reasons other than the political situation. To an ambitious woman, one who chose political science and law as her major, marriage might feel like shackles. But Edwin would be wings, not shackles.

 

—I can wait until you want to. But you will accept the proposal, right?

—No.

 

In that moment, Edwin truly felt as if he had been played with and then abandoned.

 

—I have expectations for a proposal, too, you know.

—If that’s the case, you won’t be disappointed.

—We’ll see. I haven’t decided yet when, where, with what kind of ring, and how I want to receive it.

 

Now what kind of ridiculous nonsense was this?

 

—Giselle, that’s something you leave up to the man.

—And then I end up getting it on the sofa in my own house, without a ring.

—…Is it fun to tease me?

—Immensely.

 

The beautiful woman in the passenger seat winked and smiled. Though the expression was meant to be irritating, his chest tingled as if electrocuted.

 

—Fine, tease me as much as you want.

 

He was fine with her playing with him for as long as she liked, as long as she accepted his proposal someday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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—What are you going to do now?

 

Edwin Eccleston asked this again today, and as a matter of course, followed her into the house and even the dressing room. She couldn’t shoot him a glare for not being a gentleman and barging into a lady’s space. His spot was in the closet, too.

 

—I need to shower and write the letters I’ve put off. And I’ll listen to the radio theatre at 10:00 and go straight to bed when it’s over.

 

Giselle rattled off her schedule, which was more tightly packed than her work hours.

 

—Your mission is?

—My mission?

 

Why would he say that? I clocked out because there’s nothing that demands me to stay late.

The moment she hung up her officer jacket and turned back, the man, who was sitting on the vanity and undressing, grabbed the knot of Giselle’s tie.

 

—There’s the mission given by the enemy, isn’t there?

 

He looped a finger around the knot and pulled. As the knot slowly slid down, Giselle’s body was pulled towards his broad chest. In the man’s eyes, who pulled her into an embrace so tight the rustling of her wrinkled shirt was explicit, a primal male instinct flashed.

 

—You have to seduce me, Duchess.

 

You’re the one doing the seducing, aren’t you?

Even that raw desire encroaching upon the elegant gentleman’s face was enough to make her wet between the legs, but….

 

—I judged it an impossible mission and discontinued it.

 

I’m not doing it today.

 

—…However, one hour later.

—Ah, there, harder, harder, Haaagh!

—Shh, keep your voice down.

 

An unfortunate spy, who fell for the operation target’s honey trap, was helplessly subdued and penetrated.

 

—Haa, haa….

 

When Giselle reached her climax, his hip movements gradually subsided. Edwin pecked at her lips—which were panting, intoxicated by the lingering feeling—and then fondled her neck. The skin, sensitive beyond measure, pulsed with a jolt.

When he pressed against her chest, right at the peak, her whole body convulsed. His breathing grew rough, pouring onto the skin where the fine hairs stood on end from her fierce reaction. The more intense Giselle’s response, the more excited the man locked with her body became. The deeply buried penis inside her stomach surged, and Giselle was sent into spasms once again.

Edwin, too, became breathless and lifted his head. His sticky gaze slid down her milky white skin. The cream he had applied after her shower melted from his body heat, giving Giselle’s skin a moist sheen. Seeing the white, gleaming, tempting female body, something came to his mind.

 

—Do you remember the nymph at the Naiad Pavilion?

 

Giselle tilted her hazy face, not understanding why he was talking about a statue during sex.

 

—The first time you saw it, you said it. That it looked like it was alive and moving. That if you touched the skin, you’d feel warmth. Your body is like that.

 

She was hearing praise that she was as beautiful as a marble sculpture meticulously refined by an artist, delivered from a masterful creation himself. Giselle, too, followed him, sinking into a fresh sense of appreciation. To think I possess a man this perfect. It was beyond her station, but even if she were to be pointed at one day, she wouldn’t dream of yielding him to another.

 

—And I feel warmth….

 

The path of his hand, slowly stroking down her flat stomach, was hot.

 

—And if I touch it, it comes alive and moves.

 

His thumb tapped the pulsating clitoris, which was exposed.

 

—Ah!

—Ugh….

 

As Giselle writhed inside and out, Edwin stiffened his entire body and groaned. Focus disappeared from his eyes, which had been tightly shut and were now open again.

The people of the world would know Edwin Eccleston as a man with a cool, sharp gaze at any moment. No one would have seen those eyes that had lost all reason and chased only pleasure.

Only I will ever know this.

She subtly swayed her hips to physically show that she was ready to come again—no, ready to admire the sight of this man coming. Blue passion surged in his eyes. The gaze that touched her convulsing body was unbearably hot.

 

—Eung….

 

The man silently watched the woman who was turning her waist in ecstasy, getting herself aroused while trying to excite him, but his heart inside his chest was pounding wildly. Then, in the instant she convulsively gripped his body with that vulnerable inner flesh as if to break him apart, he finally broke.

 

—You, where did you learn this….

 

Edwin suddenly pulled Giselle close and thrust his hips like a dog in heat.

 

—Ah, ah, up….

 

He sealed her mouth with his lips to stifle her cries. But before long, he, too, was groaning too hard to possibly block them.

Sweat-drenched skin slid with the fierce rocking. He desperately clamped onto the body trying to escape his embrace, burying rough breaths into her delicate neck. He was no different from a beast driven mad by the urge to breed.

 

—Ah, what do I do….

 

The one who drove him crazy was this woman, who was beside herself with pleasure after just a few thrusts of his hips.

 

—Hwaaaa….

 

He should have made her hold back her cries today, but how utterly sweet she was. This time, as she reached her peak, she cried out like an estrous female cat. Giselle Bishop was a woman who could be both erotic and adorable.

 

—Uht….

 

The stimulation was excessive. The hot current deep in his belly was also becoming a fierce storm. He didn’t want to be swept away and drift to the end by this current just yet, so he forced his muscles to cramp, his buttocks deeply convulsing, to hold back the surging sense of climax. It was tolerable when her inner flesh repeatedly contracted and relaxed.

But after a certain point, she gripped him and wouldn’t let go. Her strength was so immense that when he tried to pull his penis out, Giselle would pull the retracted foreskin back up. Could he possibly win when two layers of flesh were grinding against the very tip of pleasure?

 

—Ah….

 

It was a glorious defeat.

 

—Giselle… I love you….

 

As always when he came, Edwin whispered his love and held Giselle close. His rapid breathing didn’t calm down easily.

It must have felt so good it left him breathless.

However, in the moment his chest quickly heaved, what erupted from deep within his heart was not a gasp, but a sob. Moisture spread across the cheek pressed against hers.

 

—…Lorenz?