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Chapter 81
He Thinks I’m Beautiful
A rough hand tore open the hem of her clothes. Diana looked at him in shock. She had to say something, but in the thirst hidden within his desperation, she felt the air choke in her throat.
It was as if he might devour her. His massive body pinned her down, threatening to consume her whole. Yet what was strange was that she wasn’t afraid of him.
For some reason, she never thought this man’s anger would turn into violence against her. Instead, looking down at her husband who was lost in desire for her body, Diana let out a low moan.
Standing behind her, he lifted the hem of her skirt and caressed her thigh, then squeezed her bottom.
His long fingers began rubbing her deliberately. Soon, her legs were wet. Unlike their first time together, his touch now was shamelessly direct. Anyone would know he desired her.
How strange… why was this life so different from the last? He had shared her body then too. Yet back then, it had never felt like this. Was it because there were no teasing touches like these? Was it because there were no ragged breaths, no heated palms stimulating her?
“Haa…”
Hot breaths slipped from Diana’s lips. Immediately after, rip!—her clothing fell away in an instant. She could feel his excitement against her waist. Carefully, she turned her head to look back.
His lips, which had already devoured hers, were smeared with the red of her lipstick. Meeting her gaze, he slowly wiped it away with his thumb. The finger, streaked red against bulging blue veins, somehow looked indecent. The way his jewel-like eyes stared down at her left Diana unable to move.
His black hair gleamed dark, his lips a vivid crimson. Was this what a vampire from legend would look like—seducing a woman only to drink her blood? Despite his ferocity, the slow, languid movement of his lips seemed sensual. As if he were the one seducing her.
Diana gazed at his face as though entranced, then snapped back to her senses and looked away. Still, she was bewildered. The strange desire this man held for her—she could not understand it at all.
In her past life, they had been husband and wife, and their couplings had felt forced. The monster she loathed had only seemed to vent his lust on her now and then.
“Raise your head.”
At his words, Diana lifted her chin. A storm of kisses rained down. He pulled her up, bent over her body, and sucked along her bare skin. His wet tongue wrapped around her, teasing and tickling. Pleasure jolted down her spine.
“Ahh!”
The act was far too indecent. Standing up like this—she had never experienced it. Her waist bucked upward.
“T-the bed…”
But Giscard didn’t care. His lips continued to ravish her breasts—hot, wet, slippery, endlessly sucking.
“Ahh…”
This man was devouring her greedily. That alone made her feel like she might go insane. She tried to push his shoulder away, but instead he pulled her arm around him tighter.
“Aah! Your Majesty! Please, on the bed!”
She couldn’t understand. Why do this here, when the bed was right there? Yet when Giscard raised his head and looked at her, his violet eyes were glazed, unfocused. Seeing his expression—and her own reflection in those eyes—shocked Diana. They looked the same.
“No.”
“Mmm…”
“Tonight, you must only look at me.”
He whispered. Pleasure so intense it was painful left Diana gasping, her body restless, no longer feeling like her own. She was scared. She wanted this to end quickly, because she was scared.
“I’m looking at you, I’m looking… so please…”
But he showed no restraint. Gripping her hips, he lifted her easily. Diana squirmed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Against her arms, she felt the warmth of bare skin—he was already naked.
This time, she truly thought he would lay her down on the bed. But instead, Giscard pinned her against the wall. He held her hips, spreading her legs. Her torso collapsed against his shoulder, and she looked at him in shock.
“W-wait—”
Held up like a child, clinging helplessly, it was humiliating. Giscard pressed a brief kiss to her lips, then smirked.
“I told you I’d go mad, didn’t I?”
In that moment, she knew something impossible was about to happen. Feeling something press at her entrance, she tried to retreat—but the wall was at her back.
“Ahh!”
Diana understood exactly what Giscard meant to do. He wanted her to look at no one but him. She felt no disgust.
It was just overwhelming to take him in. Holding her breath without realizing, she focused only on how violently he spread her, how roughly he plunged inside, twisting and grinding her insides.
“Ah…”
Tears spilled from her eyes. Seeing her tear-streaked face, he frowned.
“Do you hate it?”
There it was again—formal speech. Diana shook her head. It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t fear.
“I-it’s just… because I like it. Ahh!”
He had been moving slowly, but now he drove in deep. Before she could adjust to the stretching ache, his hips slammed up into her.
At last, Diana truly understood what “mating cries” meant. Tears streamed as he thrust into her, consumed her, drowned in her. His own face was as lost and blissful as hers, intoxicated by the sensation. Diana thought she might go mad.
“Look only at me. Only me.”
He whispered again. Diana nodded desperately, sobbing her answer. I am looking. I am. The boy she had once cared for and freed had never left her. No—he refused to leave, demanding her gaze, craving it.
It felt desperate. It felt pitiful.
But those feelings were fleeting. She had no time to think. Each time he pierced her, her mind went blank, leaving only sobbing cries.
At some point, she lost all reason. When he brought his face close, she parted her lips for him. When he left marks on her neck, she didn’t care.
In a short yet endless time, he reached climax quickly. Panting, Diana remained in his arms, still filled by him, staring down at Giscard. His eyes, red with arousal, gazed back.
“Damn… beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”
His unfocused eyes kept repeating that word. Beautiful. The stiff, clumsy man—calling her beautiful. And always with “damn” attached. Why always that word?
He carried Diana and finally laid her on the bed. As she exhaled, he lay beside her, kissing her sweat-damp forehead.
“Look who’s beside you.”
“…”
“It’s me. I’m beside you.”
He spoke, his hand sliding over her chest, her belly, down to her damp hips. Still sensitive, her body twisted.
“Why?”
He chuckled, fingers tracing her hipbone. Though it felt like a caress, the touch was strangely stimulating. She squirmed without meaning to.
“Who would’ve thought, that a lady like you could cry with such a beautiful face?”
“…”
“Whoever called you corpse-like has no right to breathe. His eyes must be rotten.”
His sudden death wish left Diana dumbfounded.
“I mean it. His eyes should be gouged out.”
On the marital bed, watching her husband mutter about gouging out his own eyes, Diana couldn’t respond. She turned away.
“I told you, look at me.”
He pressed close. His heat against her back felt scorching. Lowering his head, he bit at her neck.
“Ah! W-wait…”
Still lying on her side, he spread her legs and began stroking her again. Wet sounds escaped her lips. She groaned at the hardness pressing into her waist.
“A-ah…”
He said nothing more. He simply pushed her legs apart and entered again. With soft, unresisting ease, he slid in. His low moan and curse followed.
Diana clutched the sheets tight. The wet, merciless pace made her jaw clench, her waist arch. Unlike their gentle first night, he was too rough—her cries blurred between moans and screams.
He had lost all control. The careful restraint of their first coupling was gone. He sucked, bit, crushed her tightly in his arms.
Had she ever felt such intensity before?
Whenever Diana caught her breath, he pushed her again, driving her to the edge. The relentless stimulation broke her into sobs. Yet this man even devoured her tears, licking them greedily.
And Diana became certain.
This man—he doesn’t despise me like in our past life.
He likes sharing his body with mine. The pleasure I feel, he feels as much, or even more.
This man likes my body.
This man truly… thinks I’m beautiful.
