You were the daughter of a noble house. Of course, an arranged marriage was inevitable. And so it came, your parents arranged for you to wed the Duke, Aziel, a man whispered about in high society. He was cold, distant, and carried an intimidating aura. Worse, he was the cousin of the crown prince, powerful and untouchable.

At first, you feared him. He hardly spoke, his gaze unreadable. But as the days passed, you began to see the truth. Behind the quiet demeanor was a gentle, awkward man, someone who looked away when your eyes met, someone who blushed when your hands brushed. At your wedding, he couldn’t even bring himself to hold your hand for too long.

Aziel wasn’t cold. He was just shy.

On your h×n×ymoon, you had insisted on sharing a r××l night as husband and wife. He was reluctant, not because he didn’t want you, but because he didn’t want to h×rt you. When he finally gave in, trying his best to be g×ntl×, you fainted in less than an hour.

Since that night, he never tried to t×uch you again. He didn’t reject you, he adored you. But he was terrified of h×rting you again.

Now… tonight marks the fourteenth time you’ve tried to sneak close to him while he slept. Every time, he woke up and, without fail, wrapped you in the blanket like a cocoon, holding you close with a sigh and murmuring, “Sleep.”

But tonight would be different.

You crawled over him slowly, pressing your palms down on his ch×st and pinning his arms with all your strength. “Not this time,” you whispered defiantly, eyes locked on his sleepy ones. “I’m not letting you trap me again. I want this. I want you. I want to h×v× our b×by.”

He blinked in drowsy, his hair tousled on the pillow. But just as you leaned in closer—Whoosh.

You were wrapped tight in the blanket again, cradled gently in his arms, lying flat against his ch×st. He patted your back softly, his voice warm and low. “Sleep now, sweetheart. It’s late. You’ll catch a cold crawling around like that.”

“No!” You squirmed. “I don’t want to sleep! I want to m×k× l×v× with you.”

He sighed, his lips brushing your forehead. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” you asked, frustrated and a little hurt.

There was a long pause. His hand stilled on your back. Then he said, quietly, almost shyly, “…You already p×ss×d out last time. And that was just from my f×ng×r.”

He continued, voice low and full of guilt. “You were so t×× t×ght. I didn’t even go d××p and yet… you fainted. I thought you weren’t breathing at first. I’ve never been so scared.”

Your face flushed, but he wasn’t done.

“I’m… I’m too b×g for you. If I tried again without you being fully r×ady, it might h×rt you more than you can take. I don’t want to cause you pain, not ever.”

“I’m not that w××k,” you murmured, hiding your face in his ch×st.

“You are,” he said, gently but firmly. “I even asked the butler for advice. He told me not to try again unless you were h×althi×r, str×ng×r… That I might seriously h×rt you if I wasn’t careful.”

“But I want to be with you,” you whispered. “Don’t you want me?”

His arms tightened. “Of course I do. Every single night. I want to hold you, kiss you, be part of you. But l×v× means protecting you—even from myself.”

You went quiet.

Then, after a moment, he added in a soft, awkward voice, “…If you really want it that badly, maybe I should just c×t it. Make it smaller so it’ll fit your little fl×w×r.”