It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 34

Charlize liked the way surprise flickered in Achilles’ golden eyes. The excitement he tried to hide only made her feel a little proud, a little bold.

“You were so shy just a moment ago,” she said teasingly.

Achilles raised his head from her chest, his voice low and almost playful. He whispered as if sharing a secret just between them.

She tried to act confident, but the truth was—everything she knew about intimacy came from books. And not even from long study. Earlier that very evening, she’d snuck into the imperial library, determined to prepare. She had read everything she could find, absorbing the knowledge like a scholar cramming for an exam.

“This is where the real part begins.”

His hand slid over her lower stomach, moving softly down to her thigh. His fingers brushed along her skin with care, drawing invisible circles until they slipped between her legs. Charlize’s breath caught in her throat.

“You’re already wet…. ready, Your Highness,” he murmured.

She knew exactly what he meant, and her cheeks flushed with heat. One of his fingers, wet from her lips, moved lower, slipping between the soft folds beneath.

Ah…

His fingers felt thicker and rougher than her own, even though he was a mage, not a knight. Still, they carried a certain strength. One hand gently touched her entrance, while the other moved with more intent. When a finger, slick with her own warmth, slowly pressed inside, her hips instinctively trembled.

“Even here… you’re responding so easily,” he murmured. “One hand’s not enough…”

The finger that had been circling outside now found its way to the center, brushing gently over a sensitive spot. The sensation made her breath hitch, and before she could process the overwhelming feeling, Achilles’ voice had lowered even further—as had his head.

Wait—what?

“Achilles…! Wait, just—!”

She didn’t even have time to tell him to stop. He buried his face between her legs, licking the flower bud long and burying his fingers to the root.

Her body jolted when his finger curled inside her, touching somewhere slick and impossibly sensitive.

Ah—!

And then—his lips. Hot and soft, they closed around the most sensitive part of her. His tongue moved in slow, teasing motions, like a kiss made to drive her mad. Charlize’s mind went blank.

This isn’t…

This wasn’t research. What did this have to do with mana, with magical theory? But he had warned her—if she insisted, he examine her body, he wouldn’t be able to separate desire from duty. She was the one who had pushed for this. She had told him to ignore restraint.

No… no! Something’s…

Something was coming. She didn’t know what it was—she had never felt it before, not even in her previous life—but her body knew. Panicking, she reached down to stop him, but he already knew. He could feel it too.

“Ah! Achil—!”

Her back arched sharply, and her body clenched around his fingers. Her legs trembled, her breathing came in ragged gasps. His eyes widened as he watched her fall apart in front of him.

“What was… that?”

Oh no…

Charlize suddenly felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. Her body was still twitching, her muscles gripping his hand even after the moment had passed. Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned her face away.

Achilles raised his head slowly, swallowing hard. The golden fire in his eyes had changed—it was darker now, more intense. Even though her body had calmed, he didn’t withdraw. Instead, he slipped in another finger.

“Don’t… look at me… please…”

She hadn’t done anything. She was supposed to be strong, proud—even cruel, by reputation. So why had her body responded so easily? Shame burned through her as she looked away.

“Charlize.”

His voice was low—dangerously low. She turned to look at him, startled, only to feel his lips press against hers. His fingers moved again, gently but insistently, and her breath caught.

“I need to confirm something,” he whispered.

But he didn’t explain what.

Before she could ask, he was on her again—above and below—taking his time, exploring everything as though her body held a secret only, he could unlock.

“Just how long do you plan to keep watching?”

Valter set the documents down with a sharp thud and asked in an irritated tone. From the darkness, a shadow stirred—rising slowly, taking the shape of a man.

“It seems the plan failed… Yet you don’t appear too disappointed.”

“I’ve learned enough just by confirming the enemy’s strength.”

He wasn’t without anger, but if Achilles was truly that powerful, such a failure was always within the realm of possibility. Iaoros, sensing something interesting, stepped closer.

He had long been curious about Valter—especially how the man never once flinched at his monstrous appearance.

“You could choose an easier path, you know.”

“Leave.”

Valter’s face remained cold and unreadable. He never considered himself a righteous man, but he wasn’t foolish enough to be used by a demon.

He was still a duke with considerable influence. The failed schemes involving the Crown Prince and the Archmage were unfortunate, but now was not the time to dwell on disappointment.

Still determined, Iaoros approached the desk. When Valter ignored him, he slipped into the man’s shadow and reappeared behind him in an instant.

“…Are you not afraid of me?”

“You want to use me. If you truly meant to kill me, you’ve already had easier chances.”

Without even looking away from his paperwork, Valter answered. Iaoros narrowed his eyes. He was drawn—almost obsessed—with the soul inside this man.

“If you and I were to join forces, not even the Archmage Achilles could stand in our way.”

The pen in Valter’s hand stopped moving. He slowly raised his gaze, his eyes locking with Iaoros’. The demon smiled in response.

“If I make a deal with you…, are you saying I’d become stronger than the Archmage?”

Iaoros’ twisted smile deepened.

“Without a doubt.”

“Lies.”

Valter’s voice cut through the air, calm but biting. For the first time, Iaoros looked caught off guard.

“What are you talking about? If you use my power, you could crush Achilles!”

“If that were really possible, you wouldn’t need me. There must be desperate fools out there begging to make a deal with you. So why come to me?”

The fact that Achilles was still alive, despite Iaoros’s desire to see him dead, was proof enough. Furious, dark energy surged from Iaoros, lashing through the air like angry claws.

“You arrogant wretch…! I offered you power because I admired your ambition!”

“You just want to use me to get to Achilles. And I’m the only one who can truly shake Charlize—the one he desires most.”

It was likely the truth. Neither the Emperor, the Empress, nor the Crown Prince would have any reason to form a pact with a demon.

Iaoros said nothing. He only glared at Valter before vanishing from the room with a snarl. Left alone, Valter’s thoughts turned to Charlize.

When Ralph had publicly accused him, Valter hadn’t looked at her—not even once. His fury over the failure of his plans had blinded him to what she might think of him.

Realizing this far too late, he moved abruptly, knocking over an inkwell. Black ink spilled across the papers, soaking them in ugly blotches.

Valter stared at the mess. Then, without a word, he picked up the inkwell and hurled it against the wall. It shattered violently, the sound echoing through the room.

The splattered ink, the broken glass—it reminded him painfully of whatever had existed between them.

Sticky, wet sounds filled the air as their bodies pressed together. Charlize writhed in Achilles’ arms, overwhelmed by the way his fingers moved deep within her, seeking out her most sensitive places.

“Ahh… ngh! Ah… please…”

Every time she reached her peak, his fingers returned, coaxing new waves of sensation from her trembling form. As her body arched, he met her lips in a kiss that was as overwhelming as everything else—slow, hot, and claiming.

“Hah… hnn… mmm…”

When he finally withdrew, her body shuddered, still pulsing with aftershocks. Achilles, his fingers slick with her essence, reached once more for her trembling petals.

His touch, light and teasing, made her thighs twitch. She couldn’t bring her legs together—her body was too sensitive, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“This soft little place… it quivers so sweetly. Would you like to explain why?”

“Ah… I-I don’t… know…”

Her voice was faint, dazed by sensation. Achilles kissed her again—tenderly, then deeper—while his fingers brushed over the sensitive bud glistening with moisture. The jolts of pleasure sparked behind her eyes, like flashes of light.

With every subtle movement, her body clenched and relaxed, as if trying to hold him in. His kiss grew rougher, more intense, unable to hold back.

“Ahh… mmm…”

Their kiss turned heavier, their breaths tangled. Then he slid his fingers upward, brushing over her chest and smearing the lingering warmth across her skin, teasing her sensitive peaks.

Charlize moaned softly, her body twisting under his touch. Having been brought to the edge again and again, her body now reacted with heightened sensitivity. Even a gentle tug at her nipple sent shivers through her chest and down her spine.

“Ahh… please… I can’t… Achilles…”

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