Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously-Chapter 269: Unwinding Augustine

Anne’s hands froze mid-motion, her gaze momentarily distant as a flicker of memory crept into her mind. Her smile faded slightly.

She had done this before, back when she was with Denis.

Back then, whenever Denis returned home exhausted, he would demand a massage, and she had complied without a word. She remembered how he used to praise her, saying her hands worked like magic on his weary body. But those moments were now a distant memory.

Anne blinked, brushing the thought away before it could poison the present. She couldn’t tell Augustine about that part of her past. She didn’t want anything, especially not a ghost like Denis, to taint what she had now.

Summoning a smile, she returned to her rhythm, her fingers pressing into Augustine’s muscles again with renewed focus. "I watched a few tutorials online. And I’ve practiced a lot on myself, mostly. But I guess I’ve always liked making people feel better."

Augustine let out a hum of approval, sinking into her care. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this—her touch, her thoughtfulness, her quiet presence that could disarm even the worst day. And as her fingers continued to work over his sore muscles, he felt something deeper than relief.

A flicker of mischief crossed her eyes. "I know many things you haven’t discovered yet," she said, this time teasingly.

Augustine reached back and caught her hand, his head tilting so he could glance at her over his shoulder. "Then I’d like to discover every one of them. What other secrets are you hiding, Mrs. Bennett?"

Her smile deepened as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. "You’ll find out... eventually," she whispered. "But for now, just enjoy this."

She picked up the bottle of oil again, tipping it carefully so a thin stream flowed onto the smooth plane of his back. The warm liquid trickled down his spine. Augustine shivered at the contact, his jaw tightening.

Anne’s palms followed its trail purposefully, her fingers tracing the lines of his back with tender pressure. Each stroke unraveled the tension within him, but it also lit a fire that stirred deeper.

His breath hitched when her touch dipped lower, massaging along the curve of his back.

His hands gripped the mattress beneath him, eyes fluttering shut. The sensation was exquisite, relaxing, and sensual all at once. He could feel her body lightly pressing against his, her warm breath falling on his skin.

And though desire curled hot in his belly, urging him to turn and take her into his arms, he held himself back. Her touch was magical, healing. And he wanted to enjoy it a little longer. freewebnøvel.coɱ

As time passed, the tension in Augustine’s body melted away. Every knot of exhaustion unwound, but in its place, a different kind of heat rose steadily. Her touch, once soothing, had grown more purposeful, explorative, and lingering.

When her fingers slipped along his waist and brushed over the firm lines of his abdomen, his pulse quickened. Then she whispered, "Now lie down."

He obeyed. "Okay, Mrs. Bennett."

Anne shifted, straddling him with quiet confidence, her knees framing his hips. Augustine’s eyes stayed fixed on her—entranced, breathless, waiting.

Her palms moved slowly over his torso, mapping every inch, until they rested just above his waistband. She dipped her hands lower, unbuttoning his trousers with ease, then tugging them down. He lifted his hips in silent invitation, and the fabric slid off, landing somewhere beside the bed.

Now only his boxers remained, the evidence of his desire barely contained. His chest rose and fell with anticipation, muscles tense with restraint.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, his voice rough with need.

Anne gave him a sly smile but said nothing. Her hand slipped under his boxer, rubbing his erection. He shuddered under her touch, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Anne..." he groaned helplessly. "You are driving me insane."

Anne smiled teasingly as she leaned forward, her hair falling like silk across his chest as she pressed a trail of soft kisses along his collarbone. Augustine’s fingers curled into the bedsheets, his breath growing heavier. The warmth of her mouth and the deliberate rhythm of her touch stirred something deep inside him, a craving that only she could satisfy.

A sharp breath escaped him the moment she wrapped her fingers around his length. "Damn it..." he growled, his head snapping back as a shiver rocked through his spine.

Anne watched him unravel beneath her, mesmerized by the raw tension contorting his face, the helpless way his hips twitched upward, chasing more friction. She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear as her hand worked him with an unrelenting rhythm, maddeningly slow at first, then tighter, faster, building him up just to hold him there.

Augustine’s hand shot to the mattress, fisting the sheets. "Anne... I’m—" His voice cracked as the pleasure coiled tight in his belly, desperate for release.

But she wasn’t done.

She kissed a trail down his chest, and when her mouth replaced her hand, Augustine cursed under his breath, a violent tremble ripping through his body. His thighs flexed, his hands found her shoulders, but even then, he couldn’t stop her. He didn’t want to.

She drove him mad, her tongue, her lips, the wet heat of her mouth pushing him to the edge. He was completely at her mercy, panting, swearing, and sighing.

And when he finally broke, his body arching, his muscles clenching with a guttural moan. Anne held him through it, letting him fall apart completely in her hands, in her mouth, in her arms.

He collapsed back onto the bed, sweat clinging to his skin, his heart racing like it was trying to tear out of his chest.

When she came up to him, brushing the damp hair from his brow, he pulled her close with every ounce of strength left in him.

"You are driving me insane," he whispered hoarsely, breath still shaky. "You know that, right?"

"I know." Anne smiled and kissed his jaw.

He held her jaw and kissed her, savoring her taste. "Now it’s my turn," he murmured. His eyes, darkened with a storm of emotion and unspoken hunger, met hers with a piercing intensity.

He sat up in a slow, controlled motion and cradled her face, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. "You have done enough. Let me take care of you from here."

Anne swallowed, her breath catching as he leaned in, kissing her with urgency.

He guided her down onto the bed, laying her across the mattress. The candlelight flickered across her skin, casting golden glows that made her look ethereal beneath him.

His fingers skimmed her collarbone, trailing down slowly. He pushed aside the strap of her satin nightdress, planting soft kisses on her shoulder and down her chest.

"You are beautiful," he whispered against her sternum. "So damn beautiful it hurts."

Anne’s fingers threaded into his hair as he traveled lower, every kiss and touch from him more maddening than the last.

One hand slid beneath the hem of her nightdress, his fingertips teasing upward along her thigh. The other wrapped around her hip, grounding her as his mouth followed suit, trailing kisses along her inner thigh, slowing at every point he knew she was sensitive.

Her back arched slightly in anticipation.

"Augustine..." she breathed, almost in a plea.

"I want to feel every part of you," he whispered.

And with that, he parted her thighs and claimed her, tongue and fingers working in maddening rhythm. Every touch, every stroke drove her closer to the edge, but he didn’t let her fall. Not until her cries turned breathless, her hips bucked, and her fingers clawed at his shoulders.

Only then did he let her break.

And when she did, Augustine watched her fall apart, eyes burning, breathing hard, as if tasting her pleasure gave him a deeper satisfaction than anything else.

He climbed up beside her and pulled her into his arms. Their foreheads touched. Their skin still tingled. And for a long while, neither spoke—only listened to each other’s quiet breaths.

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