Cesare urged her in a low, commanding voice, and Eileen instinctively tensed, her body curling inward.
The question was so obvious that she didn't know how to answer. It was so self-evident, yet it left her confused.
She hesitated, second-guessing herself. Was this truly the right answer? But no better alternative came to mind, so she mumbled timidly, "…You, Cesare."
Everything about Eileen was rooted in Cesare. Even the habit of kissing to diffuse difficult situations was something she had learned from him.
Cesare, who had been watching her intently, suddenly lowered his head and chuckled softly. After a moment, still smiling, he pressed his lips to her collarbone and murmured, "That too… is my fault."
Eileen wanted to ask what he meant, but she had no chance. His fingers, which had been moving slowly inside her, now quickened their pace.
