Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 204

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Special Side Story 1
6. Newlyweds
After the wedding ceremony and the reception concluded without incident, I was guided by the servants to the Visconti Duke’s Residence.
‘So I’ll be living here from now on.’
Since I had been invited here several times before, the place didn’t feel particularly unfamiliar.
Most of the Visconti servants who came to greet me were familiar faces, and Father had sent along the very servants who had attended to me, so the only thing that had changed was my residence.
The moment I shed the heavy dress and jewelry, I felt a lightness, but as the maids began applying fragrant oils after my bath, I fell into a peculiar tension.
‘Here we go again, again….’
I had made such a commotion throughout the wedding that I should have been exhausted by now, yet my heart began racing wildly once more. We hadn’t crossed the final line, but Isidore and I hadn’t exactly maintained a strictly proper relationship either.
‘Is there a difference between when things naturally flow with circumstance and when everything is perfectly arranged for such moments?’
That nearly every newlywed couple goes through such an awkward process.
‘Remarkable, really.’
After expending all my energy and mental fortitude at the ceremony and reception, and now the wedding night as well….
‘If I didn’t have divine power, I probably would have fallen asleep during the bath.’
Would it have been better to just sleep? No, that would have been a shame too….
As my consciousness drifted aimlessly, the servants brought a negligee with a faint purple hue.
‘An outfit with very clear intentions and purpose.’
After hastily wrapping my bare body in the thin fabric and throwing on a long robe, I walked toward the bridal chamber with steps that creaked like a rusted mechanism.
As I pushed open the slightly ajar door, an elegant and antiquated bedroom came into view.
A large bed sat in the center of the room, bathed in warm sepia-toned darkness, with candlelight casting a soft glow across the sheets and blankets, creating an intimate atmosphere.
“You’ve arrived.”
Isidore’s low voice suddenly called back my wandering mind.
Seeing the large silhouette dimly visible beyond the bed canopy, I swallowed hard without thinking.
“Ah, um! Yes, I’m here.”
Not the weary, blunt words of a man worn down by life, but ‘I’m here’—utterly devoid of romance as a first utterance.
‘This is mortifying.’
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
He spoke with a hint of laughter in his voice as he walked toward me.
He too wore a long silk robe, and with his collarbone sharply defined and his firm chest exposed, I found nowhere to look.
Uncertain where to direct my eyes, how to shape my mouth, or where to place my hands, I was floundering in awkwardness when suddenly I was pulled into an embrace.
In his warm, unyielding arms, I held my breath for a moment, then gradually melted, resting my head against his chest. Though I had been rigid with tension, now I felt as though I were dissolving.
“I’ve been waiting for so long. Every second felt like a year.”
An intensely breathless kiss poured down upon me.
With his sharp nose pressing against my cheek, he delved hungrily into my mouth with desperate movements that seemed to quench a thirst, and I gripped his shoulder blades tightly.
Isidore, who had moved roughly enough to make me dizzy at first, noticed my breathlessness when I could barely catch my breath, and gently drew my upper lip in like a cat, then suddenly deepened the kiss again, shamelessly exploring every corner of my mouth with his tongue.
Just when I thought I might relax, he would plunge deeper once more, brazenly ravaging me with his tongue.
“Hah. Hah.”
Somewhere along the way, the robe draped over my body and my hair had become completely disheveled, and I breathed heavily like someone who had just run a hundred meters. My thighs trembled finely as my strength melted away from the kiss alone.
Barely managing to hold on while gripping his collar, my waist was suddenly lifted. Isidore had swept me into his arms.
Even in the brief moment it took him to walk to the bed, he kissed my cheeks, lips, and forehead frantically.
Isidore lowered me onto the bed with deliberate slowness, his cool fingers tracing my damp lips while his elongated eyes stretched in a seductive gaze.
“Deborah, tell me directly. What feels good, and… when it hurts too.”
His eyes held a persistent hunger to know every hidden corner. Wherever his gaze touched, heat bloomed across my skin.
As he continued to regard me with that intensity, he lowered his long lashes and slowly drew the loosened robe ties apart.
The robe fell open, revealing a muscular, sculpted torso. The powerful chest and sharply defined abdomen spoke volumes about what an extraordinary swordsman he was.
Sensing my hesitation, he pressed his lips to my cheek in a soothing gesture and guided my hand to his body.
His physique was so taut it seemed impenetrable, yet his skin was silken soft. As I slowly caressed the contours of his muscles, he narrowed his brow slightly.
“More…”
He murmured, his eyes narrowing.
It was oddly thrilling how he responded to such a simple touch.
As if enchanted, my hand grew bolder and descended further. He shuddered at my touch, and unable to restrain himself any longer, he pressed down upon me.
“Say my name.”
Isidore’s large hand caressed my nape before sliding the negligée strap from my shoulder completely.
His lips followed downward. My clothes soon fell away entirely, and the heat from his mouth—touching everywhere, leaving nothing untouched—sent warmth coursing through me to my very fingertips.
“…Isidore.”
“Once more.”
He gently bit my ring finger, the one bearing his name engraved upon it, and continued to urge me on.
“Isidore.”
Each time his name rolled from my lips, his eyes blazed with fervent intensity as he desperately sought my mouth again and again.
“Ah…”
Soon, a sharp, unfamiliar ache made me squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders.
That night, I called his name in his embrace until dawn. Perhaps I spoke it more times than in all the nights before combined.
“…You, golden-haired beast.”
By the time pale dawn light flickered beyond the window, I could no longer bring myself to call this inhuman creature by his proper name, so I spilled out pet names and curses alike before drifting into unconsciousness.
* * *
The sun was high in the sky, yet she showed no sign of waking.
Rather than disturb his beloved wife’s deep slumber, Isidore gently arranged the violet hair that had fallen across her forehead.
‘How adorable.’
As he admired her proud nose and beautifully shaped lips, caressing her forehead, his hand stilled. The marks he had left throughout the night came into view.
His fingertips lightly traced her earlobe.
He had persistently marked her neck and chest in countless places, yet rather than regret, he felt a satisfaction bordering on contentment. Even with high collars, it would be difficult to hide the marks beneath her ears.
‘I always thought men who obsessed over such things were pathetic.’
Now he realized he had become exactly that.
Wanting to touch her more deeply as her beautiful naked form moved in rhythm with his, he had spent the entire night desperately holding her close.
Intense satisfaction, burning desire, affection, and possessiveness swirled together until he felt half-delirious.
Through his uncontrollable body, he keenly understood just how desperately he had wanted her. And simultaneously, how impoverished his imagination about intimacy had been…
He had studied through various books, yet in his frenzy, not a single passage came to mind.
“I want to swallow you whole. Truly.”
Suddenly overwhelmed by such intense affection that his heart ached, Isidore pulled Deborah close like a cherished doll—only to have his side pinched immediately.
“Ow!”
“Let me sleep a little… just a little sleep.”
Deborah Simour lifted her drowsy eyelids with difficulty, casting a distant gaze downward at the perfectly interlocked lower bodies, before glaring at him with exasperation.
“Isidore, did you… slip me something strange without my knowing? How can you possibly keep going like this…?”
Unable to finish her sentence due to exhaustion from his relentless vigor, Isidore tilted his head with shameless composure.
“Isn’t more strength always better? I’ve seen plenty of men cast aside for being unable to perform or falling short….”
“There’s such a thing as moderation. The virtue of the golden mean—you know?”
“As you know, I’ve never been good at doing things halfway.”
He pulled her close as she tried to slip away from his embrace, pressing his lips repeatedly against her ear.
“Did it hurt? Or is something uncomfortable…?”
At his careful question, Deborah shook her head slightly, her expression softening a bit.
If it had hurt, she wouldn’t have spent the entire night nestled in his arms. Isidore possessed keen observation skills and quick reflexes, and with the athletic prowess befitting a knight, he drew words of pleasure from her lips almost involuntarily.
She felt a sense of danger that her mind might break from the overwhelming pleasure. The only problem was that he went too far, causing her to make sounds like a beast….
“I’m human, so it’s difficult to keep up with a beast.”
As she muttered irritably, Isidore laughed softly.
“Try training me well.”
“I didn’t come here to be a beast tamer.”
“You can be a beast tamer, a duchess, a princess of Simour—do whatever you want, and you’ll have it all.”
Just then, her empty stomach churned violently, and Deborah quickly covered it with a fake cough to hide the sound.
“Ahem….”
“We should eat something first.”
Isidore’s eyes suddenly gleamed. She wondered what he was thinking to make such an expression….
Moments later, when food arrived, he sat her on his lap and attempted to feed her everything himself.
Honestly, the very person who had told her to do whatever she wanted seemed to have plenty more he wanted to do.
“Do we really have to eat like this…?”
“You said it was difficult. Since the culprit is right here, put me to work.”
“I still have the strength to hold a fork and knife, Duke.”
“Every penny saved makes a pound, as they say. Come now, say ‘ah’—”
“….”
The strength she had so painstakingly conserved—where on earth did he plan to use it…?
On the bed, before the lavishly prepared nutritious meal, she unconsciously swallowed hard.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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