Behind the Mask of Desire

Chapter 1

In the quest for love, women employ every charm and tactic, hoping for the men's affection. Men, on the other hand, demand not only the heart but the entirety of the woman, leaving her little room to stand her ground.
Isabella Hawthorne is a noblewoman from King's City, while Julian Reed is the formidable general stationed at Border Keep. Their families face a pressing decision: either Julian Reed travels back to the city to marry Isabella, or she must relocate far from home to be with him. With Julian's military duties consuming his time, it's clear that Isabella will have to make the daunting choice of marrying into the unknown.
To Julian Reed, Isabella seems like a sheltered young lady, one who has never lifted a finger for chores. He is surprised to discover she is a total foodie with a penchant for indulgence, undeniably sweet but also a bit spoiled.
Julian, who is strikingly handsome yet ruggedly devoted to his duties, is as clueless about romantic gestures as he is skilled in battle. His first night with Isabella does not go as planned; despite his strength, he unintentionally leaves her so exhausted that she can hardly get out of bed. Fortunately, his relentless enthusiasm is balanced by his care for her feelings, showering her with affection that inadvertently turns excessive. This overindulgence leads to a moment of crisis when Isabella threatens to leave him.
To maintain his reputation as the great general, Julian doesn't take this lightly. He pursues her, pulling her back into their chamber for a stern yet tender confrontation, making it clear that she must think twice before considering escape again.

Chapter 2

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” The deep, authoritative voice of the man rang out.
Isabella Hawthorne, clad in a vibrant red wedding gown with a matching veil, sat at the edge of the bed, too terrified to breathe or move. Her big, dark eyes, reminiscent of glistening black grapes, darted around in her sockets.
The man who had just spoken was her newlywed husband, Julian Reed.
Although they had just completed their wedding ceremony, Isabella had never seen Julian's true face. What she had heard about him was unsettling; he was said to be larger than life, like a bear, grotesque in appearance, with a face uglier than a wolf’s, and a mouth full of sharp teeth capable of scaring anyone to death. Yet the voice of this supposedly hideous Julian Reed was surprisingly pleasant and rich.
As Julian's footsteps faded away, Isabella let out a silent sigh of relief.
The room was bustling with activity, hushed whispers passing among several servants apart from her maid, Petal. Feeling exhausted, the weight of the overwhelming day pressed down on her, and she curled up beside the bed, her eyes slowly drifting shut, reminiscent of a chick pecking at grains.
Time slipped away, and after an unknown period, Isabella was jolted awake by the collective response of the servants. “Yes, sir.”
Startled, she blinked open her eyes to find a ray of light illuminating a young man standing before her.
Dressed in ceremonial finery, with untamed hair and striking features, his dark, piercing eyes scrutinized her coldly.
Isabella blinked in confusion. She took note of the red silk scale in his hand, which was draped with her own veil, and then her gaze fell upon his ornate wedding attire adorned with a large red flower at his chest. This could only be her husband.
Her eyes widened as they spun around in their sockets. Wasn’t he supposed to be a mighty warrior? Tall, brutish, and terrifying with a face so hideous that it could drive someone to madness? Why was her groom now a distinguished young man?
But the Julian Reed before her, though undeniably handsome, wore a grim expression, and his gaze was as sharp and frigid as ice. His eyes pierced her with a gaze that felt like steel, causing Isabella to instinctively shrink back, her face turning pale as her heart began to race uncontrollably.
From his towering position, Julian glanced down at his bride. She had an endearing heart-shaped face with long lashes and bright, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with bewilderment, as if she were still shaking off sleep. Looking at her delicate beauty, Julian felt an unexpected twinge of remorse.
Duty kept him preoccupied with military concerns, too busy to return to the city for their marriage, so he had sent someone to fetch her. The petite, refined girl had traveled for an entire month, adorned in heavy wedding garb and a cumbersome headdress from the city to the Border Keep. Reflecting on this, Julian softened his gaze and attempted a smile as a gesture of goodwill towards Isabella.
Surprised, Isabella couldn’t believe what she had just seen. Had he smiled? Did his lips actually curve up for a moment? Could someone with such an intense “don’t come near me” aura actually smile?
Madame Joy approached with a tray, her face lit with a cheerful smile. “Let’s toast to your everlasting union.”
Julian’s expression was emotionless as he fixed his gaze on Isabella, taking a glass of wine from the tray.
Trembling at his icy stare, Isabella took a moment to register her surroundings before grasping the remaining gold cup filled with wine.
Without warning, Julian encircled her arm with his, drawing closer. The sudden proximity of his handsome face startled her, causing her to spill half the wine on his attire.
The crowd surrounding them froze, every expression and movement halted in stunned silence; the joyful atmosphere had turned thick and tense.
Oh no. Isabella stared in horror at the wine-soaked red fabric of Julian’s robe, then glanced at the remnants of wine in her own cup, tears welling up in her eyes. Would Julian be angry? He already seemed so fearsome. What would happen if he truly lost his temper?

Chapter 3

Isabella Hawthorne felt a lump rise in her throat; Julian Reed was definitely upset.
“Hmm.” Julian's voice came out in a low, deep hum, laced with a hint of irritation and a touch of mockery.
Wiping away her tears, Isabella took a shaky breath.
Julian glanced over at his bride with a piercing stare, noticing her gaze drop, her eyes quickly shimmering with unshed tears. The smoky depths of her almond-shaped eyes sparked with pain, and he knew she was on the verge of breaking down.
Suddenly, he threw his head back and downed his glass in one go.
Isabella scrunched her lips in irritation, contemplating the wine left in her glass. With a determined lift of her chin, she finished the remnants of her drink. “Cough, cough, cough...” The scent of the wine had been alluring, but the taste caught her off guard, sharp enough to provoke a fit of coughing.
Madame Joy danced forward to collect the couple's empty glasses, her eyes crinkled with delight as she exclaimed, “Congratulations, General Julian! A toast to your happiness!”
“Appreciate it,” Julian replied flatly.
At the same moment, Granny Agnes produced red envelopes from her robes, distributing them among the onlookers and staff gathered in the room.
A collective sigh of relief escaped the spectators, and the spacious Inner Chamber filled with jovial chatter once more. However, Julian waved his hand dismissively, signaling for everyone to leave.
As the noise subsided, the room fell into an eerie silence. Isabella’s maid, Petal, stood frozen in place, trembling with fear. Julian's intense gaze felt like a spotlight on her. Petal almost succumbed to the weight of his penetrating stare, but as Isabella's personal attendant, she knew she couldn't retreat without permission. She gritted her teeth, determined to stand her ground.
Isabella’s eyes watered from the strong drink, and after a moment of gasping for air, she noticed Petal swaying uncertainly at the doorway while the rest of the staff had already slipped away. “Petal, please go,” she urged softly.
Relieved, Petal hurried out, leaving only Julian and Isabella alone. He walked over to shut the door, latching it firmly shut.
Isabella bit her lip, her heart racing as she attempted to fix her gaze on his back. His aura was formidable, so she settled for sneaking furtive glances, never daring to meet his eyes fully.
Julian took a seat at the round table and picked up his chopsticks, munching on the side dishes. “Aren't you hungry?” he raised an eyebrow, turning the focus to her.
Instantly, Isabella looked down, blinking in surprise. Hungry? Of course, she was starving.
She was the daughter of Lysander Hawthorne, a prominent businessman from King's City. Julian Reed, on the other hand, was a general stationed at Pine Stone Village, far from the royal capital. Their families had arranged this marriage—either Julian would journey to King's City, or Isabella would relocate to the frontier. Given Julian's military duties, it had to be the latter.
After a month of exhausting travel—donning heavy wedding attire that seemed almost suffocating—Isabella was eager for a proper meal. But now, as she sat near him, she hesitated. The spread on the table was lavish, but as she sampled the food, she slowed. The braised pork was too salty, the eggplant way too greasy, and the green beans a touch undercooked...
“Eating so little?” Julian's sudden comment startled her, and she nearly choked on a green bean she had just picked up. Staring back at him, she blinked rapidly before she finally chewed and swallowed.
She snuck another glance at him while he continued eating, unphased. Whoever spread the rumors that he was unattractive clearly hadn’t seen him in person. Having been stationed at the border for so long, very few in King's City knew his true appearance, and most gossipers were simply bored and gossip-hungry.
Julian was, in fact, one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on. Yet a potent air of authority surrounded him, intimidating enough that she struggled to meet his gaze directly.
What kind of man was he really? People often celebrated the night of a wedding, but the cold indifference he displayed on what should be the happiest night of his life was perplexing.

Chapter 4

Isabella Hawthorne decided it was time to take a chance. After pondering for a while, she mustered her courage and said, “This braised pork is way too salty, and the green beans, they...”
Julian Reed didn’t even glance up, continuing to enjoy his food and drink as if he hadn’t heard a word.
Great, so he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, Isabella thought, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over her as she fell silent.
“Looks like you’re quite the stutterer,” Julian commented suddenly, with an expression as serious as ever.
Isabella’s face flushed a deep crimson. “I-I’m not! I’m not a stutterer at all!”
Uh-oh, the tension made her stutter despite her intent not to—and now she felt even worse. Lowering her gaze, embarrassment enveloped her as she realized he might have been teasing her.
When she dared to peek over at Julian again, he was still focused on his meal, his expression inscrutable. Frustrated and confused, she found it impossible to read his thoughts, prompting her to again look down at her plate.
After finishing, Julian set down his chopsticks and announced that he was heading to the small bathroom next door.
Isabella found herself unconsciously following the movement of his broad back as he walked away until he disappeared inside and slammed the door shut, jolting her from her thoughts.
“Why are you just sitting there? You’ve been wearing that crown and gown all day, aren’t you tired?” His cold voice drifted through the door, and she jumped in surprise.
Of course she was tired! A heavy gold crown weighing eight pounds atop her head and a painfully snug gown draped over her body for a whole month was exhausting! Her neck and shoulders ached, and her arms felt like lead.
In that moment, she reveled in the idea of being in a room with a big bed, fresh linens, and soft pillows. If only she could shed the heavy wedding dress, remove the crown, and enjoy a hot bath followed by a cozy sleep, life would feel so much better. That is, if Julian Reid weren’t around.
She swiftly ignored that last unhelpful thought, hurriedly lifting the crown from her head, loosening her hair from its elaborate updo, and pulling off the heavy gown.
In nothing but her fitted underwear, she bent to look around for a pair of comfortable shoes when Julian walked out of the bathroom, showcasing his bare chest, clad only in pants, with a robe draped over his shoulder. Isabella froze in place, caught in the act.
Julian’s gaze landed on her, illuminated by the soft candlelight that framed her fair skin and highlighted the sparkle in her eyes. Her dark hair fell playfully over her cheek, and he couldn’t help but feel a sudden stir of interest. “What are you looking for?” he asked in a low voice.
Isabella felt a flutter in her stomach; his voice somehow sounded deeper, more resonant. Standing up awkwardly, she gazed at the floor, fixating on the tips of her red embroidered shoes. Her voice was just above a whisper: “I…I was looking for some shoes.”
He just nodded and continued on his way, leaving her to wonder at his reaction. Was he angry? She held her breath until he settled into a chair by the window, picking up a book.
He couldn't be mad, right? With a sigh of relief, Isabella slipped away to the other small bathroom.
After a soothing shower and changing into something lighter, Isabella faced an internal dilemma. At eighteen, she certainly knew what newlyweds were expected to do on their wedding night, yet Julian’s frosty demeanor made him seem intimidating.
After much inner conflict, she finally gathered her courage and quietly cracked the door open to check the inner room. It was eerily quiet.
Wait a minute. She distinctly remembered Julian reading under the window's soft light. How could it be so silent now, not even the rustle of a page turning? Maybe the alcohol had knocked him out, and he’d fallen asleep on the chaise.
Seizing the opportunity, she decided to sneak into bed. If she could just sleep through the night, things would surely be easier once dawn broke.
Resolute, Isabella padded barefoot out of the bathroom, light on her feet, heading straight for the big bed. Almost there, just a bit closer, she launched herself onto the mattress.
Ah.

Chapter 5

Isabella Hawthorne gasped in shock. Who could tell her why she suddenly found herself in a broad, warm embrace? Just moments ago, she had been sitting by the window on a beautiful chaise, lost in her book. How had she ended up here, in bed, nestled in the arms of Julian Reed?
Julian Reed pressed his lips tightly together as he held his little bride, who had unwittingly leaped into his arms. In a swift motion, he rolled over, pinning her beneath him, his gaze thoroughly scrutinizing his wife. Isabella's large, almond-shaped eyes were wide with disbelief, staring up at him.
Without her makeup, she appeared as an adorable girl with precious, fair skin and striking features that were both delicate and charming. Her expression was surprisingly astute, and her soft body was fragrant and alluring. Overwhelmed by surprise, her lips parted slightly, creating a beautiful shape that made Julian's breath quicken.
He leaned close, capturing her tender lips with his.
Isabella’s eyes widened in horror—he was kissing her! And he dared to slip his tongue into her mouth, coaxing her in a wild dance. Despite his icy demeanor, which felt like invisible daggers glinting against her skin, she couldn’t fathom why his lips were so soft.
“Mmm…” Isabella tried to pull away, struggling against his weight.
But Julian Reed misread her struggles as a passionate invitation. He continued kissing her, his hands instinctively roaming onto her soft curves. After teasing her for a while, he couldn't resist squeezing her full, supple breasts, urging his own desire to the surface.
“Stop, please!” Isabella whimpered, terrified by Julian's fierce, emotionless gaze. He looked wild, like a wolf poised to devour her, and the panic surged through her as she realized her arms were pinned above her head, leaving her vulnerable.
She felt helpless, tears welling in her eyes. Despite her fear, her sobs stirred something primal in Julian. It was as if a tiny kitten was clawing at his heart, igniting his longing for her even more. He realized she was frightened of him, so he gritted his teeth to rein in his own desires, not wanting to frighten her further. But his body craved her fiercely.
With a swift motion, he ripped at her nightgown, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the silence of the room. The sight of her delicate figure stole his breath away—her skin was soft and white, her rapid, terrified breaths making her chest rise and fall, drawing his eyes to the alluring shape of her curves.
He gripped her slender wrists with his rough hands, forcing them above her head as he admired her fear-laden beauty.
“No, no! Julian Reed, please!” Isabella pleaded, her voice trembling. Each frantic breath of hers stirred his desire, making his pulse race with heat.
As she cried, hoping desperately for mercy, her struggles only accentuated her voluptuous figure, an irresistible sight to Julian. He could barely contain himself. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, and his thirst grew unbearable.
Leaning down, he latched onto her sensitive breast, his mouth exploring her softness with instinctive skill. He began suckling and teasing, wanting to draw pleasure from her responses.
“Ah…” Isabella gasped, her body melting, trembling as she responded to his touch.
Julian already knew his little wife was sweet and innocent. He had sent Granny Agnes with the retrieval party to King's City—trusted in her discretion to advise him. She had sent word that his bride was a gorgeous young lady.
Now, seeing her for the first time, he was captivated by her beauty. Yet it was clear she was terrified of him. He didn’t want to traumatize her; he knew she was a cherished daughter back home. Still, her sweetness was almost overwhelming, inflaming his hunger dangerously.
Gasping with restraint, Julian could no longer hold back. He roughly pulled away her panties, revealing her soft, pristine skin and the delicate curves of her body. Her tiny, cute belly button and the secrets she desperately sought to hide only fueled his desire further.
Completely lost in the moment, Julian unhurriedly slipped off his own pants, his body urging him to claim her as he pressed his rough hand between her tightly closed legs.

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