Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously
Chapter 109: Is this the surprise you planned for me?

Chapter 109: Is this the surprise you planned for me?

Augustine blinked, taken aback. His mind reeled with Lucien’s accusation as he sifted through his memories of Anne—the hesitation in her eyes, the moments she had pulled away, and the one night she had drunkenly leaned toward him, trying to kiss him.

"But she said she wanted to take things slow," he recalled. "I didn’t want to pressure her. I thought it would scare her away."

"You fool," Lucien scoffed. "Sometimes a girl’s ’no’ just means she wants you to try harder. You’ve got to read her signals, not just her words. That’s where instinct comes in."

Augustine scratched his head in confusion. Could it be that she had wanted him to make a move? That she had been waiting for him to step forward and take that final leap?

"Go to her. Talk gently. Tease her, tempt her—seduce her. You’ll see, she won’t resist you."

Something sparked in Augustine’s chest—hesitation turning into a quiet, simmering determination. A slow smile curved his lips, confidence returning like a long-lost flame.

"Alright. I know what to do now. Thanks, Lucien."

As he ended the call, that smile stayed on his lips, spreading warmth through his chest. The weariness from earlier was gone, replaced by a thrill of anticipation.

"Tonight, I’ll close this distance between us. I’ll make her mine."

Augustine swung his legs off the bed and strode toward the door, a newfound determination in his chest. But as soon as he opened it, he froze.

There she was—Anne—standing just outside his room. He paused as a cold wave washed over him.

’Since when has she been standing here?’ Panic clawed at his chest. ’Did she hear me talking to Lucien?’

"Anne, you..." he started, but his voice trailed off, uncertain.

"Dinner is ready," she said softly, and then she turned and walked away.

She gripped the sides of her robe tightly.

’What’s wrong with me tonight?’ Anne cursed inwardly. She had come to his room to tease him, to say those flirty lines she had nervously rehearsed while preparing the dinner. But the moment she saw him, everything vanished. Her confidence, her plan—gone in a blink.

On the other end, Augustine stood stunned. He hadn’t missed her tightened expression. ’She heard me... She must’ve heard everything I said to Lucien...’

He raked a hand through his hair, restless and uncertain. His heart, which moments ago had been brimming with excitement, now sank heavily into his chest.

"What do I do now?" he murmured, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

~~~~~~~

The dinner finished in awkward silence. The food was tasty, but Augustine was so tense that he forgot to thank her and compliment her. When Anne took the dishes to wash, he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Wait. I’ll do the dishes," he said, rising from his chair.

Anne glanced at him. She didn’t say no. With a slight nod, she said, "Once you are done, come to the master bedroom. I have got something for you."

Augustine hummed shortly, thinking about the surprise he had planned.

Anne came back to her bedroom, her heart pounding and her skin burning from the rising heat. "The time has come. I have to do this." She took a deep breath to steady herself. But she couldn’t stop her heart from racing wildly.

Anne removed the robe that had clung to her and looked at herself in the mirror again, her cheeks turning red again. "Am I really looking attractive in this?" she wondered.

When she thought of Audrey’s perfect figure, she felt a little self-conscious. Her tummy seemed to bulge up under the sheer fabric. "My figure isn’t perfect." She pouted, putting her hands on her tummy. "What if he doesn’t like it?"

Augustine came in. "Anne, I was looking for..." He paused, his eyes widening as he saw Anne in that provocative lingerie. The rest of his words stuck in his throat. For a second, he didn’t breathe.

Anne whirled and then froze, her breathing hitching.

Augustine couldn’t believe what he was seeing, his gaze roaming over her.

Anne was wrapped in a sheer red lingerie that clung to her curves like it had been sewn onto her skin. The plunging neckline framed the soft rise of her breasts, held up by thin, delicate spaghetti straps that seemed to tremble with the weight of anticipation. The fabric was translucent, enough to leave little to the imagination, and short enough to just barely kiss the tops of her thighs.

"Anne..." His voice dropped, raw and reverent, like he was seeing a goddess he didn’t believe he deserved. "Do you even know what you’re doing to me?"

His pulse rate skyrocketed. His legs moved toward her unwittingly, closing the distance between them in two slow steps. He stopped in front of her, his hands hovering just above her waist, as if afraid touching her too soon would break the moment.

Anne stood still, locking her eyes at him. She felt her skin burning under his unwavering gaze. Part of her wanted to disappear, but the other part, which was bolder, refused to move. She had made up her mind – tonight, she would sleep with him and declare her love. No more excuses. No more delay.

Their gazes locked. Both of them could feel the rising temperature between them, their desires bare in each other’s eyes. But none of them said a word. All they did was stare at each other.

"Is this the surprise you planned for me?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Anne nodded slowly. "Do you like it?" Her voice was as low as a whisper. "Am I looking good in it?"

Augustine lifted her chin slightly with his finger. "Red suits you," he murmured, voice thick with desire. "It’s not the dress that defines your beauty. It’s you, Anne. But I think I might like you better without it."

He leaned down, lips brushing her shoulder before trailing down her arm, his breath igniting goosebumps in his wake. One hand slid over the lace of the lingerie, tracing the curve of her waist, the other hooked a finger gently beneath one strap, pulling it down agonizingly slow, letting it slip off her shoulder. Then the other.

"You wore this for me?" he asked, lips grazing the hollow of her throat. "You’ve got no idea what that does to a man."

Before she could answer, he was already toying with the hem of the lingerie, his fingertips dancing along the tops of her thighs, brushing upward — slow, teasing, purposeful. He took his time, eyes trailing over every inch of her as if committing the sight to memory.

And then, gently, he gripped the delicate lace and began to peel it off her, inch by inch, kissing her skin as it was revealed. Down her body he went, kneeling as the fabric followed his hands until she stood completely bare before him, glowing in the soft bedroom light.

He looked up at her from where he knelt, lips parted, pupils dark and wide. His eyes roamed over her figure, taking in every detail with awe. When his gaze landed on the star-shaped birthmark on her waist, he couldn’t resist—his fingers reached out to trace it gently, lingering there as if mesmerized.

"You’re beautiful," he whispered. "Absolutely, heartbreakingly beautiful."