We're Married, After All - Chapter 12
The lewd expectation spilled down my thighs, drop by drop. It wasn’t dew that soaked me now, but arousal.
I knew that if Danel entered me at this very moment, he could bury himself all the way to the root without any resistance.
But that day was no different from the others. Danel didn’t come down until the evening banquet was ready. Even after tea time and other formalities, it wasn’t until much later that we retired to the bedroom.
And our coupling followed the same routine. Danel caressed my body in the same order, entered me, and spilled himself deep inside, as if nothing had ever changed.
He spilled himself inside me, and I, too, fell asleep instantly, overwhelmed by the climax.
That’s why I thought I had imagined his gaze—that I had misinterpreted the meaning behind it because I had begun to desire more from my husband.
At least, that’s what I believed until the next morning, before I got out of bed.
I lay there for a while, overcome with a strange emptiness, before finally sitting up. Thanks to the approaching spring, the bedroom was quite warm. So instead of reaching for the fur-lined slippers by the bed, I decided to grab the thin bedroom slippers hanging by the bedside table.
But as my bare feet touched the floor, I felt an odd discomfort. Looking down, I noticed the cause immediately.
My toes, especially both big toes, were swollen and puffy. They looked as if they had been sucked on relentlessly, like a baby nursing on a thumb until it grew plump.
At that moment, a realization struck me.
Instead of retrieving the slippers, I opened the bedside drawer and took out the small hand mirror stored inside. Sitting back on the bed, I angled the mirror beneath my unusually swollen left big toe to inspect it.
And there it was—a strange mark on the bright red, swollen toe. A distinct, unmistakable human bite mark.
Despite the discovery, I couldn’t fully believe what had come to mind. After all, toes were… toes. Even if I had washed myself thoroughly before meals, toes were considered one of the dirtiest parts of the body. It seemed impossible that a man as obsessive about cleanliness as a monk would put such a thing in his mouth, let alone suck on them so persistently that they swelled or left visible bite marks.
And yet, today, I discovered another bite mark—this time on the nape of my neck.
That’s why I changed into a deep blue dress. Its neckline wasn’t too revealing, but the wide cut across the shoulders left them entirely exposed. The design wasn’t overly extravagant, making it a good fit for a casual dinner with the vassals.
As soon as the maids finished adjusting my attire, I headed straight for the central staircase. The hall was quiet, as I had delayed quite a bit. Only Danel, standing like a statue, remained, waiting to escort me.
At the sound of my footsteps, Danel slowly turned his head. His gaze brushed over my bare shoulders before returning to meet my eyes. Under the flickering candlelight, I noticed a faint tremor in his violet irises.
With a gloved hand, I lightly brushed over my exposed shoulder. A loose strand of hair slid down, tracing the curve of my shoulder.
Why does he always pretend not to notice?
To be honest, I couldn’t understand what Danel was thinking. Was he embarrassed to suddenly feel interest in a woman’s body at this point? Perhaps so. Considering his devout faith since childhood and his accomplishments as a man of the cloth, it made sense.
But that wasn’t my concern.
Meeting Danel’s gaze head-on, I wrapped my arm around his. Beneath the sleek fabric of his suit jacket, I could feel his muscles tense and shift. At the same time, dampness seeped into my undergarments.
Ever since I’d experienced the blunt, relentless movements of his head pounding so deeply into me that it left my womb aching, I hadn’t found much joy in our nightly encounters. What I craved wasn’t the refined, scripture-worthy coupling but something far more debauched, something akin to being possessed by a demon.
So I planned to dig into it, to unearth whatever he was hiding from me.
Without looking directly at Danel, I guided his arm, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Neither the way I clung to his arm, nor the choice of a dress so different from my usual style, betrayed my true thoughts.
“Why didn’t you go in first? There must be plenty of people waiting.”
“It’s fine. It’s not as if we’re that late,” Danel replied, though his response came a beat slower than usual. Just as I could feel the firmness of his arm muscles beneath my hand, he seemed keenly aware of the softness of my chest pressed against his arm.
I felt his gaze settle on the top of my head. Pretending not to notice, I maintained a calm expression and continued down the stairs. Only then did Danel match his steps to mine.
With each step, the friction between his arm and my chest grew more pronounced. The tension in Danel’s arm muscles, wrapped in his formal suit, was unmistakable. Whenever my bare shoulder brushed against his chest, I could feel the tautness of his triceps beneath the fabric.
Yet, despite it all, Danel didn’t pull his arm away.
The hall was filled with guests who hadn’t yet entered the dining room. As we made our way toward the banquet hall, we stopped to greet them one by one.
No one seemed to notice the subtle tension simmering between Danel and me.
Our relationship wasn’t particularly close, and it was rare for us to share even the slightest physical contact, like linking arms.
In fact, if my memory serves me right, this was likely the first time since we were children.
Back then, Danel had been tall but far from sturdy—a boy whose thin frame and prominent bones were unmistakable when I linked arms with him. Even Count Veloche had worried that Danel, like Petios, might have inherited the Countess’s frail constitution.
Those concerns, however, had been unfounded. By his teenage years, Danel had grown into a man with a large, solid frame. Even under his loose clerical robes, the broad outline of his strong bones and well-developed muscles had been apparent.
A lot has changed since then.
