Chapter 240

How to Tame My Beastly Husband — Chapter 240. Headstone (1)

She could feel his gl@ns stroking inside her so clearly, so hot it felt as if he might burn her. She had no idea what the liquid flowing between her legs was.

“Annette, Annette,” Raphael panted, clutching her to him as his hips pounded frantically into her. His ragged breath showed the intensity of his desire, and there was nothing in his eyes but her.

“Mm… aah…”

She could see the round globes of his butt0cks, and the dimples in his lower back as his strong muscles coiled, moving him into her. Every stroke felt so good, it sent pleasure washing through her core. The sight of his beautiful body made her tighten on him, sucking on his manhood.

“Ah…aah…aah…”

Annette’s legs trembled, and Raphael gripped her pitiful thighs hard, moving faster between them. A moment later she felt him come, the searing jets against her sensitive inner walls.

Her eyes rolled back. Primal pleasure, pushing her into her third cl!max, and her head was dizzy as the org@sm ripplied outward from where he filled her.

“Aah…”

All her strength was gone. She couldn’t resist him anymore. It was impossible for a normal person to endure a Master of Swords. And somehow, the thought pleased her.

Even after ten regressions, she wouldn’t be able to adapt to this.

Raphael looked down at his breathless wife. Her snow-white skin was red, and her golden lashes were wet with tears and so beautiful. Of course, the sight immediately made him harden all over again.

But he could do nothing when he looked at Annette and saw her exhaustion. Her fingers were trembling as they gripped the sheet, and he lifted her hand to kiss it.

“Stay here,” he murmured. “I’ll help you wash up.”

Carefully, he pulled the blanket up to her neck, as if he were afraid that she might catch cold in the moment it took for him to fetch a wet towel. Annette wanted to thank him for his consideration, but she could not even move her lips.

She was already asleep.

***

“Annette…”

In her dreams, it seemed someone was calling her.

A few snowflakes fell from a gray sky, and below was a desolate cemetery. An ancient fence marched around it, as if a fortification for the resting place of the dead, and the newly erected headstone was white as snow. The name of the deceased was engraved in the smooth marble surface.

Marquise Annette Bavaria Carnesis.

Obviously he couldn’t. He couldn’t even see the coffin buried here. Inside, the man scoffed at his own foolishness. He couldn’t understand why he was here.

A cold wind touched his cheek, and a few snowflakes fell onto the clean headstone. His hand reached to wipe away the snow, and in spite of his icy expression, that hand was extremely gentle.

“Annette Bavaria.”

He did not dare to add his own name to hers. To him, she had always been that Bavaria woman. They were only bound by a political marriage, and whenever he could not control his anger, he had lashed out with words that hurt her.

But she had been a bold little woman, with the courage to resent him for it.