Ch.257257. Is It Greed, or a Natural Feeling? – side. Hwanabi

This might sound like a random story, but my husband—the one sitting in front of me right now—is extremely handsome. Without needing to compare him to anyone else, the nameless women who were drawn to him just yesterday and today prove this fact.

From women who casually throw suggestive jokes to those who openly propose spending the night together. Haven’t there been all sorts of attempts to seduce him in various ways?

Even in this faraway place, these things happen once a day… so what must it have been like normally? Words can’t do it justice.

It’s only natural that I keep a vigilant eye on his surroundings. As I’ve said before, I trust him, but I don’t trust other women at all. I have no choice. Just looking at yesterday and today, these things happened, so how could I possibly relax and feel secure?

If I let my guard down thinking I’ve already caught the fish, I’m likely to lose it from my hands. Marriage isn’t the end of everything, is it? It’s just the beginning.

If I want to make sure he never, ever glances at another woman, I need to thoroughly enchant him from now on. So that whether asleep or awake, he only thinks of me, only kisses me. Making his body and mind completely mine…

“…Nabi?”

I snapped back to reality from those dangerous thoughts when he called my name with a voice full of concern.

I wiped the saliva from the corner of my lips with the back of my hand and swallowed unnecessarily. I must have kept my mouth open for too long while lost in those thoughts.

“Ah, yes. What is it?”

“What do you mean ‘what is it’? Are you really okay? You were sitting there with your mouth open for a whole minute.”

“…I was?”

“Yeah, you were just frozen like a robot with a dead battery.”

Since he wouldn’t lie about something like this, I must have really been sitting there with my mouth open… but why? I couldn’t figure it out, so I was about to brush it off when I suddenly looked at his face straight on. Then I realized.

Ah, that’s right. I was staring blankly while admiring my husband’s face. His appearance and physique are so close to my ideal type that sometimes I unconsciously gaze at him like this.

Sharp jawline, gentle eyes. Muscular build and tall height. Features that seem to combine all the elements any woman would desire.

He truly matches my taste so perfectly that I wonder where such a man could have fallen from. At this point, could he be a man God personally crafted for me?

“Are you cold? If that’s the case, you can just change into different clothes…”

After watching me quietly, he placed his hand on my forehead and spoke carefully.

He probably misunderstood that I was still because I wasn’t feeling well. For someone like me who’s not just fine but bursting with energy, it’s an unnecessary worry.

“Yes, I’m a little cold. But I don’t want to take off my clothes.”

But since his thoughtfulness secretly pleased me, I deliberately spoke in a coquettish voice and moved closer to him. I didn’t want to take off my clothes, but saying I was a little cold implied that I wanted him to hold me.

After thinking for a moment, he seemed to catch the hidden meaning in my words and reached out to me with a slight smile. Without any resistance, I moved as he guided me and nestled into his firm embrace.

“Are you warmer now?”

“Mmm, just right.”

With my ear against his chest, I can clearly feel his heart beating. I wrapped my arms around his waist and clung to him.

With a soft thud, my body naturally fell backward, and I ended up positioned as if I were on top of his upper body. Given this position, I could see his face and body at a glance.

“Husband, what were we talking about again?”

“Just our school days.”

“School days…?”

The reason for this sudden talk about school days in a hotel bedroom is obvious. It must be because of what we’re wearing. Since we’re dressed in school uniform-like clothes provided by the hotel, the conversation naturally flowed in that direction.

“Yes, we were talking about our first impressions of each other. Don’t you remember?”

“Ah… right. We were, weren’t we?”

Now I remember. First impressions.

I have a lot to say about that. To be honest, my first impression of him was close to a handsome delinquent. Of course, I personally found him very attractive… but that was just my personal opinion. Others saw it differently!

He had an overall sharp appearance with intimidating eyes, making him difficult to approach. The proof is that no student approached him to talk during my first, second, or third day after transferring.

Still, perhaps due to my influence, he’s softened now and that cold impression has diminished a lot. But back then, he had a very cold impression when he kept his mouth shut.

That probably led to some misunderstandings too. With his sharp looks and complete lack of friends, people wondered if he was a delinquent… that kind of misunderstanding.

“Where did I leave off?”

“Hmm, up to the part where you said you liked me from the first time you saw me?”

“That’s a lie.”

“Why do you think it’s a lie?”

Well, because I wouldn’t honestly tell you that. It’s true that I liked your first impression, but if I said that, you’d get subtly arrogant.

I’m the type who dislikes playing hard to get and treats people I like very well, but I’m not the type to just keep giving endlessly either. I pull back appropriately when needed.

“When we first met, you lied to me, didn’t you? How could I have liked you?”

“Lie? What lie? I never lied.”

“You pretended not to know I was your fiancée and teased me. Are you going to keep denying it?”

“Wait, I think you’re misunderstanding something… I didn’t know you were my fiancée until I called to confirm. After all, we were both seeing each other for the first time then.”

…Now that I hear it, it does make sense. Feeling uncertain, I asked again.

“What? So you really didn’t know who I was?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

“Then why did you listen to a stranger talk for so long? For over an hour at that.”

“…Didn’t I tell you the reason?”

“No, you never did. Why did you do it?”

Suddenly curious, I lifted my head and stared at him intently. He met my gaze for a moment, then seemed to feel guilty about something and slightly averted his eyes.

Then he mumbled in a very small voice.

“…because I liked it.”

“What? What did you like?”

“Well… I liked you. You were cute too.”

“I was cute…? In what way?”

“Well, I don’t remember exactly… maybe when you woke up and wiped your drool?”

“…”

I felt pleased that he found cuteness in something so unexpected, but at the same time, I was dumbfounded.

This man, what kind of taste in women does he have? I thought he wasn’t an ordinary person from the first time we met, but he’s definitely strange.

Confirming my suspicion, I chuckled and reached out to gently stroke his hair.

“Ah. So that’s why you like kissing so much?”

“What are you talking about? If others heard that, they’d misunderstand…”

“Then, are you saying you don’t like kissing me?”

He couldn’t respond quickly to this question and fumbled with his lips like someone with something stuck in his throat. It seems he doesn’t want to say he dislikes kissing, even as a joke.

…He’s not usually like this, but he becomes so shy when talking about physical affection, it’s cute. How could anyone call this man a delinquent? Both then and now, he just looks tough on the outside but is completely innocent inside.

Whenever I assert this to my friends, they counter with, “Even if we overlook the ‘cute’ part as subjective, he’s definitely not innocent! He seems so slick when dealing with you…” But I couldn’t agree with that opinion.

After all, how can a man who can’t even make eye contact after being hugged and having my chest slightly pressed against him be anything but innocent?

“I don’t… dislike it.”

“So you don’t like it either?”

“If I had to choose between like and dislike, I’d say I like it…?”

“Say it clearly. Do you dislike it or like it?”

Still pressed against him, I loosened the choker around my neck. His gaze immediately fixed on the choker.

“…I like it.”

“What about this?”

“This?”

“This choker on my neck. Do you dislike it or like it?”

“The choker… I like it.”

“What about the school uniform?”

“…School uniform?”

“Yes, the school uniform. This one I’m wearing now, do you dislike it or like it?”

Strictly speaking, it’s not a school uniform but a cosplay outfit that resembles one… but such minor details aren’t important.

What’s important now is his honest answer. I stared into his eyes intently. I won’t look away until he gives me a clear answer.

“I like the school uniform too…?”

“So combined, you like the school uniform with a choker?”

“…No man would dislike that.”

“What I want to know isn’t other men’s tastes, but my husband’s taste.”

I murmured leisurely while stroking his hair. He tried to avert his gaze, but then swallowed hard and looked back at me.

“I’m a man too… so yes, I like it.”

“Then, what about this?”

I gently took his right wrist and placed it on my chest. He seemed surprised by my action but couldn’t hide his pleasure as the corner of his mouth twitched.

Then, as if realizing this wasn’t right, he tried to cover his mouth with his free left hand, but it was too late—I’d already seen everything. It was meaningless.

His weak resistance tickles something deep inside me. A strange pleasure, sadism, desire…

Seeing him so uncharacteristically passive, my possessiveness—which even I had forgotten—began to boil.

I wish this lovable man were mine.

Forever and ever.

“My chest… do you like it or dislike it?”