Isabe was carried to the bed by Emanuele. Looking at Emanuele’s tall figure pressing down on her, she hadn’t yet processed what was happening.
“No, Emanuele,” she said.
Despite having told Emanuele about her situation with William, she couldn’tpletely shake off her emotional baggage. She still had psychological scars, unable to control thoughts of that terrible memory.
Being pushed down by William onto the cold floor, coerced to kiss him, having her clothes torn off, and feeling his unrelenting grasp on her body, leaving one mark after another.
Thinking about this, Isabe’s body began to tremble uncontrobly.
“Emanuele, can you give me some time? I can’t do this right now,” Isabe said, tears welling up.
Seeing Isabe as fragile as a kitten made Emanuele ache inside.
Instead of making any advances, Emanuele removed his own clothes. His muscr body, devoid of coverings, exuded a wild strength, like the fiercest alpha wolf in a pack.
Each time Isabe saw Emanuele’s physique, she felt a bit bashful. His physique was truly robust, with well-defined muscles, not overtrained but perfectly sculpted. Next to him, she felt especially delicate.
But this time, her anxiety and fear overshadowed her shyness.
“Isabe, look at me,” Emanuele said softly.
Isabe gazed into Emanuele’s eyes, but her gaze couldn’t help but drift to his chest.
The wound where Emanuele had been shot was now mostly healed, but it left a grim scar.
In truth, Emanuele bore numerous scars, akin to badges of honor for a man who walked the razor’s edge, unashamed to disy them. However, she didn’t want him to be hurt. Seeing the scar on Emanuele’s body, Isabe couldn’t help but feel tears welling up.
She reached out, gently touching Emanuele’s scar. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Emanuele said, kissing Isabe. “You know this scar exists because of you, right?”
Isabe nodded, understanding that Emanuele loved her more than himself.
“Isabe, I’ve risked my life to save you. Now, my life is yours, and yours is mine. I believe I can help you through this,” Emanuele said.
“You see, this ugly scar, and I still show it off. I almost want everyone to see it. These are the marks of loving you, Isabe, and you can too.”
Could she? Isabe looked at Emanuele and gradually began to rx.
Emanuele began to kiss Isabe, feeling her rx. His hands easily explored her body, caressing her.
It had been so long since Emanuele had touched Isabe. Her skin felt like water, soft and smooth.
Although Emanuele felt himself getting carried away, he tried to remain as gentle as possible. Isabe now had psychological scars, and she was pregnant. Although pregnancy allowed for intimacy, it required tenderness.
Emanuele caressed Isabe’s body, kissing her, feeling as though he had devoted all his tenderness and patience to her for a lifetime.
Under Emanuele’s kisses, Isabe felt her body growing more yielding. She needed Emanuele, truly needed him.
Even the slightest touch from Emanuele elicited a response from her body, a terrifying thought.
Soon, Emanuele had removed Isabe’s clothes, leaving her bare on the bed.
She was still somewhat afraid, instinctively wanting to cover the marks on her upper body.
Her corbone and the area around her breasts bore red marks, all remnants of her vigorous scrubbing during baths.
Seeing the marks on Isabe’s body, Emanuele asked in anger, “Did William do this?”
Isabe shook her head. “I scrubbed too hard during my bath, and they appeared.”
Seeing these marks on Isabe’s otherwise unblemished skin pained Emanuele, as if precious fabric had been torn apart.
He couldn’t help but reach out, gently touching the scars on Isabe’s body.
“So, William vited you in these ces before?” Emanuele asked. Shame and tears flickered in Isabe’s eyes, making her once again feel overwhelmed.
In the next moment, Isabe’s sorrow gave way to shock, as Emanuele began to kiss those scars.
He delicately kissed, sucked, and used his tongue to caress her. His tenderness was overwhelming, like a small animalforting her.
His warm tongue touched her body, sending a tingling sensation coursing through her.
At that moment, Isabe found satisfaction not only in her body but in her psyche as well.
Cupping Emanuele’s head, she choked out, “Emanuele, stop, that’s dirty.”
She herself was repulsed by these areas touched by William, constantly scrubbing them as if trying to erase her skin, feeling utterly disgusted.
She hadn’t expected Emanuele to directly kiss those spots.
Emanuele, who should have been repulsed, instead, raised his head to look at Isabe, his eyes now filled with a hint of lust.
“Isabe, you’re clean. Since you feel dirty, I’ll kiss these ces clean for you,” he said, continuing to kiss the marks on Isabe’s body and leaving new imprints upon them.
In addition to kissing those spots, he kissed every inch of Isabe’s body.
“If you feel dirty, let me kiss every part of you. This way, your body will bear my mark, and it won’t be dirty,” Emanuele said hoarsely, redoubling his efforts.
Under Emanuele’s kisses, Isabe felt her body growing increasingly sensitive, squirming, wanting more.
Emanuele held Isabe’s hands, kissing every part of her upper body.
When he reached her stomach, seeing her protruding belly, he touched it, theny his head on it as if to listen to the movements within her.N?velD(ram)a.?rg owns this content.
“It’s still too small. The doctor said it will be a while before we can feel the baby move,” Isabe said with a smile.
Emanuele nodded, finally kissing her belly. “Now that we’re having a daughter, Isabe, we still need a son. One daughter, one son, just perfect.”
“We can wait a few years for a son,” Isabe said, feeling a headache at the thought of raising a child.
“No, I want it soon, so they can grow up together,” Emanuele insisted, surprising Isabe with his sudden change of heart. Previously, he had not wanted children, but now that she was unexpectedly pregnant, he wanted another.
“How do you feel about that, Isabe?” Emanuele said, parting Isabe’s legs.
Before Isabe could answer, he leaned in, kissing her most sensitive spot.
Oh God! Isabe’s body arched, feeling as though she had entered heaven.