Wicked Husband-Chapter 157 - 156

The moment Eileen heard those words, her heart sank as though it had fallen into an abyss. She had never imagined, even in her wildest dreams, that such words would come from Cesare’s mouth.

Cesare, who had likely never apologized to anyone in his life, had just spoken something resembling an admission of fault for the first time. Perhaps that was why her already racing heart pounded even harder.

To think she had made His Grace, the Archduke, say such a thing! Eileen felt she should kneel immediately, drop to the floor beside the bed, and beg for forgiveness, claiming she was the one at fault.

"P-please don’t say that to me."

"Why not?"

When Eileen stammered, trying to dissuade him, Cesare’s voice carried a hint of curiosity.

"B-because, of course, Your Grace is the Grand Duke and..."

"And you are the Grand Duchess."

Eileen’s attempt to explain why Cesare should never apologize was quickly silenced by his words. Nobles held it as a virtue to refrain from apologizing lightly, especially those of higher rank. Apologizing to someone of a lower station was seen as unbefitting and unnecessary.

But Cesare had said he and Eileen were the same. As the Archduke and Archduchess, they were equals—at least on the surface.

Caught off guard, Eileen couldn’t find the words to counter him. She could only open and close her mouth silently.

"I’d like it if my Grand Duchess gave me a kiss," Cesare said, tilting his chin slightly upward. The movement made his gaze sharpen, and his half-lidded eyes took on an alluring curve. His deep, velvety voice flowed out like a quiet ripple.

"Because I shouldn’t do it first."

Looking down at him, Eileen regretted her choices. She should have ignored him and left the room the moment he first started talking about flowers.

But the moment he mentioned rosemary and she corrected him with orange jasmine, it was already too late.

Staring into his crimson eyes, Eileen found it hard to refuse. He somehow seemed unsteady, though she knew that couldn’t possibly be true. It was a sentiment she couldn’t quite understand, nor could she ignore it.

Eventually, Eileen reached out, gently resting her hand on his chest as she leaned in. Her lips brushed his lightly before pulling away.

"..."

Though their lips parted, their gazes remained locked. She was close enough to count the streaks that ran through his crimson irises.

Cesare, who had been silently watching her, leaned in first this time. His tongue brushed teasingly against her closed lips, prompting Eileen to reluctantly open her mouth to accept him.

His kiss was much deeper and more lingering than her hesitant one. When their lips finally parted, Eileen instinctively bit her wet lips and tried to rise.

But a large hand pressed against her back, pinning her down. She fell against him, her chest pressed tightly to his firm torso.

Her sensitive n!pples, already stiff, brushed against his body. The faint friction sent tingles through her, making her blink rapidly.

It had been some time since they’d last been intimate—Eileen had been avoiding him. The heat of his body felt both unfamiliar and deeply ingrained.

Cesare lowered his lips to her neck, trailing a long, deliberate lick over her skin. Eileen trembled, swallowing a whimper. Yet when a small sound escaped her lips, Cesare’s brows furrowed.

His hand pressed more firmly on her back as he began to undo the buttons of her dress. His disregard for his injury showed in his actions.

Eileen caught his hand gently and straightened her posture. Sitting atop his abdomen, she began unfastening the buttons herself.

As each button came undone, the color in Cesare’s eyes grew darker, deeper. Eileen watched the shifting hue, her voice barely above a whisper. "Won’t you make that promise?"

Her quiet question made him frown, but he followed it with a soft chuckle. Eileen blinked, confused by his sudden laughter.

’Is he laughing because my question doesn’t fit the moment?’

But if not now, when? This moment—when they were closest—felt like the perfect time to broach such a difficult topic.

After a moment’s hesitation, she had asked, but something seemed off. Cesare reached for her, brushing his fingers lightly over the back of her hand.

"It’s not intentional, I’m sure."

His fingers caressed her skin, and she flinched slightly. Cesare noticed every subtle shift in her body, his gaze capturing every reaction.

"But that makes it all the more frightening."

"W-why?"

Her confusion deepened as warmth and firmness pressed against her from below. The sensation made her eyes widen in shock.

Cesare said nothing, only smiling as his fingers resumed their delicate touch. His silent urging coaxed her to continue unfastening her buttons, her words stumbling over themselves.

"If I don’t ask now... when will I ever? You wouldn’t answer me anyway..."

"I promise."

Her fumbling hands stilled at his sudden response. She looked at him in surprise, only for Cesare to lift her effortlessly. He leaned back against the headboard, settling Eileen atop his lap.

Her legs parted wide as she straddled him, their bodies pressed tightly together. The unmistakable sensation of his thick, aroused length pressed against her most sensitive spot.

The explicit contact froze her in place, and Cesare used the moment to tear her clothing apart. The buttons she had painstakingly undone were scattered everywhere as fabric gave way to his force.

"I won’t get hurt recklessly—not without your permission."

With that, he buried his face in her chest, his actions urgent and hungry.

His hands kneaded her breasts as his teeth pulled at her undergarments, baring her taut nipples. He immediately captured one in his mouth, sucking deeply.

Eileen had intended to proceed carefully and slowly, but Cesare’s unrelenting pace threw her off. She tried, in vain, to stop him.

"Ah! Don’t use that hand!" she exclaimed, worried about his injured shoulder. She caught his wrist, only for him to entwine their fingers, holding her firmly.

"You promised... not to overdo it..." she whispered, her fingers tightening slightly in his grip.

At her words, the strength in his hand lessened. Eileen hesitated, then gently ran her free hand through his hair.

"If you don’t keep your promise... then I’ll..." Her voice trembled as she trailed off.

"You’ll?" Cesare prompted, lifting his head slightly. His crimson eyes bore into hers, as if gauging the truth of her unspoken threat.

Eileen bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally blurting out, "...I’ll get hurt too."

The words startled her, and she quickly glanced at him, anxiety flickering in her eyes. Cesare, still resting his head against her chest, slowly lifted it. His crimson gaze met hers, scrutinizing, as if searching for the truth behind her words.

Eileen held his stare, her heart pounding. After a beat, Cesare exhaled a soft, low chuckle.

"Then I’ll have to be careful."

Even as he spoke, his hands wandered lower. His fingers slipped beneath her undergarments, pressing gently but firmly. Eileen gasped at the intrusion.

"Ah...!"

The sudden sensation left her breathless, her body reacting instinctively as tension coiled in her lower belly. Her walls clenched around his probing fingers, and Cesare moved them deftly, teasing and coaxing her.

"Don’t go yet," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her sensitive bud. "If you finish too quickly, it’ll be hard on you."

His soft, deliberate strokes blended pleasure and teasing, drawing cries from her lips. Trembling, Eileen tried to pull away.

"I-I still... have more to ask... ah, wait..."

Her words broke into gasps as Cesare continued his ministrations, the wet sounds of her arousal filling the room.

Tears pricked her eyes as she clung to him. With a trembling voice, she finally asked, "Wh-why... did you... get shot? Please... tell me..."

Her broken plea made him pause. He raised his head, gazing at her as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Please..." she whispered, her gaze locking with his, eyes brimming with tears.

Cesare sighed softly, a rare, tender smile curving his lips.

"I truly can’t win against you," he murmured, his voice tinged with a quiet defeat.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asked, "Who taught you to make requests while kissing me?"

***