Contract Marriage: Rewritten - Chapter 37
Chapter 37
Translator: Yonnee
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Laniakea’s face flushed red in an instant once she realized what Hyperion meant. It wasn’t explicit, but the implication was undeniably embarrassing.
How many times in one’s life would someone say they were about to undress you?
But the man before her was the only one who had the right to make such a request of her.
She had no reason to refuse. And if she did, then she would have to undress herself, which felt just as embarrassing.
Laniakea carefully nodded. At that moment, for the first time since entering the room, the corners of Hyperion’s lips lifted into a smile.
Laniakea’s eyes widened at the sight. It was the first time she had seen that kind of smile on him.
Like a boy who had finally received a long-awaited gift…
It didn’t seem like the kind of smile one would make while undressing someone else—he looked truly and innocently happy.
Unlike his initial hesitation, Hyperion’s hands soon began to move quickly.
The clothes prepared for the night were absurdly easy to remove. It felt like they might come undone with the slightest touch.
If not…
Laniakea looked at Hyperion’s hands as he untied the final ribbon. His hands moved quickly, but they weren’t skillful.
Proof of that was how many times his hands slipped from the ribbon. They even trembled slightly.
Even so, his calloused fingers eventually grasped the final tie and pulled it free.
Swish. The front of her robe parted, and Laniakea’s pale chest was revealed.
“Ah…”
At the same time, Hyperion let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a sigh.
Though her head was bowed, Laniakea could feel his gaze resting on her chest, half-revealed between the folds of her robe.
There was no way a gaze could have weight, and yet it’s as if a warm feeling had just brushed across her skin.
Gulp.
With a small sound, Hyperion’s throat bobbed. Laniakea, with her head still bowed, didn’t see it.
His hand moved again. As if drawing back a curtain, he slid aside her thin nightgown.
She was slender, so her chest wasn’t large.
But the gentle curve rising modestly from her pale skin drew a line of beauty that anyone would admire.
Hyperion’s hand hesitated above her chest.
As she watched his sun-darkened, rough hand wander over her body, Laniakea felt the reality of spending the night with this man settle over her more and more.
‘What do I do now?’
Everything she had learned until now had to do with what happened after things had already begun.
But among all that information, there was nothing about what to do before it started. All she had heard was that everyone felt nervous.
Was she supposed to do something? Or stay still? Why hadn’t she thought to take a lesson on this earlier?
She desperately tried to think of something else to distract herself, but far from calming down, her hands only tensed more.
Then, Hyperion’s hand moved again. Laniakea thought he was about to grasp her breasts. After all, wasn’t this the part of a woman’s body that men were most obsessed with?
At the summer banquet, many men had been unable to tear their eyes away from the thin dresses with plunging necklines.
So when Hyperion had loosened her robe, Laniakea had thought, Of course. She clenched her fists. Among all the stories she had heard, there had naturally been tales of rough handling.
Recalling the women who had complained about how painful and difficult it had been, Laniakea steeled herself for the pain to come.
But contrary to her expectations, Hyperion’s hand did not touch her chest—it touched her cheek.
And not in a gripping way, but gently, as if stroking a thin glass cup, his fingers softly brushed against her skin.
“……?”
Surprised by the unexpected gesture, Laniakea lifted her head to look at him. The smile she had seen earlier was gone.
In its place was an expression more serious and cautious than ever, as Hyperion gently stroked her face with his hand.
He started with her cheek, then began to touch other parts little by little.
Her cheekbone, earlobe, eyebrows, forehead…
As if trying to memorize her face with his hand, he repeatedly, carefully traced her features.
Then, his hand stopped—at her lips.
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