Crazy Duke and Fallen Queen

Chapter 124 - A Wounded Husband Loses Appeal

My lips start to feel numb from the pressure of the Duke's.

He hasn't kissed me in a long while, maybe worried about the inconvenience of his wounded palm. I have to keep it in mind. And also to avoid brusque movements that might catch his hand by accident.

It's hard to be the one to think so much, though. My Duke has always been careful with me, and I've never felt any discomfort with him. If we forget about the first night of marriage, I've never felt any pain over the limit I can enjoy. He blindfolded, bit and even restrained me many times, but not even once made me regret that I let him take the lead.

As much as I'd like to think that it's his natural talent, there's no way a man knows so much about a woman's body without first-hand experience.

I'd like to know whom he practised so much with, though. It's just curiosity, I have no ill intention. What woman in the whole Empire had such a man in her bed and let him run away.

I surround Alexander's neck with my arms and step forwards. I lead him on the couch without splitting from his lips.

When he tries to hug me back, I stop him and look at his expression.

?Your left hand on the couch, now,? I order. First of all, put some distance between the wound and a steamy Duchess. Safety first.

?My wife is so fierce today,? Alexander chuckles.

I move an inch back and continue to stare coldly.

?It's not negotiable.?

?All right,? he agrees after seeing my solemn demeanour.

He leans his hand on the back of the sofa, the palm up like always.

?Any other request?? he inquires, tilting his head in a rather alluring way.

?Just be careful,? I plead. ?There's no need to hurt your hand more. Just let me do the hard work, all right??

He thinks about it for a while, and then he accepts. Not that it's such a surprise.

?Does it still hurt?? I ask. ?Am I being too assertive? I don't want to bother, just...?

?You're just perfect, my dear,? he whispers and embraces me with his sound arm. ?No need to doubt yourself so often.?

?I'm not doubting myself,? I reply with fake pride.

I purse my lips and ponder whether to back off. Alexander really gets on my nerves when he behaves like this!

?Are you perhaps retreating, my Duchess?? Alexander whispers to my ear. He tightens the grip around my waist, just to make sure I don't flee. This controlling side of him is a bit annoying, from time to time.

?I'm not retreating, my Duke,? I state. ?Now you can relax and stop fearing I disappear into thin air. Let go of my waist.?

?You're so controlling today,? he chuckles.

?Is it a problem??

?I haven't said that, however...?

?I'll remind you that I don't complain when you order me around like this. Now, let go.?

?Thea, are you perhaps angry??

?No, I just wanted to try something new.?

?Hmm, is that so??

?Just say it if you're not in the mood,? I sulk, shrugging in a vain attempt to free myself.

?I've never said that,? Alexander chuckles. ?I feared that an injured husband would lose his appeal, but my Duchess doesn't seem too bothered.?

?Well, an injured husband needs more attention, right??

?Uh, right. So, are you going to take care of me more attentively than usual??

?Exactly,? I nod, relieved that I don't need to repeat myself.

I wanted to show him that he can also be on the receiving end of my affection. He makes it so hard, though.

I return to kiss him, keeping some distance between our bodies. No rush, it's dangerous.

I unbutton his shirt and help him when his right hand reaches those of my dress.

?Wait, Alexander,? I mutter when he tries to undress me single-handedly. ?Not like this. Just be patient...?

?But I am a patient,? he reminds me.

?This is your office, we should go to the bedroom.?

?I'm fine here, though.?

?Then we should keep clothes on, at least.? After all, there is very little in the way.

?Why??

I sigh, feeling the last bits of patience eroded by his shameless remarks.

?Because I like it more with clothes on.?

Find an answer to this.

?Oh, then we can find a compromise...?

?No compromises. This Duchess has already decided, there's no place for negotiations. It's a take it or leave it.?

?Mhm, you're cruel, wife.?

?Decide for once, husband!?

?Take,? he nods, as if triggered by something. ?I'll take whatever you'll willing...?

Before he has time to finish his shameless sentence, I stick my tongue in his mouth and make him shut up. After catching his wandering hand, our fingers twine together.

I push his right hand on the back of the sofa, pressing down with my weight. Alexander concedes, and he doesn't put any resistance.

With my free hand, I caress his neck and shoulder while moving my lips on his chest.

He really accepted to let me take the lead, this time, and it's funny!

I release his hand to move my skirts and unfasten his belt.

When our bodies join, I move slowly, always keeping an eye on his left arm. I can't just go wild, right?

Still, this might take forever.

I move my hands, which were gripping on his shoulders, to his neck and face. I lift his chin with a finger, and our eyes meet. My breath is already heavy, and my face is flushed. Still, I forget about how horrible it must be to look at me when I lose myself in Alexander's eyes.

I forget about everything: my worries, his wounds, and even my intention to save some dignity. My body adjusts on a rhythm on its own. It's the right one, though. The only pace that can make Alexander moan and pant just like me.

It's the result of almost two months of exploration: we got to understand each other. Our bodies started to know, simply, what has to be done.

It's more than chemistry or a clinic set of moves that have this effect. It's as if our souls were in resonance, amplifying every sensation to the fullest. Just the fact that we're together is enough to make us quiver and warmly embrace one another.

When I lean my forehead on Alexander's shoulder, intending to rest after all the efforts, his right hand finally leaves the sofa. It strokes my back with reassuring movements.

?You did well, today,? he whispers.

His chest moves up and down frenetically, but he insists on talking. His lips peck my temple and then sink in my hair.

?Just today?? I inquire with a somehow concerned tone. Regardless, I'm happy about the improvement.

?No, not just today, but this was really something else,? he chuckles. ?And you put in all your effort! I didn't think I would ever see my wife be this focused on me.?

?But I always do my best,? I complain.

Where is his heart? What is it made of?

How can he tell me something like that?

?Then you should continue like this,? he nods.

What?

?This wounded husband of yours really needs your care, my dear.?

Oh, I won't nag about his shamelessness. Just for this once, for he really is injured.

?This wife is happy to be of help,? I pronounce, even succeeding into sounding sincere.

?We can do this again,? he adds.

?Yes, of course,? I nod.

I mean, I already do this every time he wants me to. Practice made me more proficient, apparently. It's just that I'm not in the condition to take the lead very often.

?I mean, now,? he finishes in a whisper.

Now? Again? This Duchess is tired!

But we're already in position, and he's so convincing. His eyes are analysing my face with a worried expression. The fear that I leave him unattended is evident, and his hand is still stroking my back.

?I can make this sacrifice,? I say, making it clear that I'm conceding.

I'm not looking forward to all the hard work, I do it just because I want to be a dutiful wife. No further reasons attached.

After all, we haven't parted yet. I can just move my hips a bit, just a short push, and we can continue like before...

?Ah!? I exclaim, surprising myself. Right, the second time is always better.

?Let me hear how you feel, Theodora,? Alexander murmurs, accompanying my actions with his right arm. He guides me like always, but I don't dare to stop him, this time.

I'm too taken into the act.

?Let it out, scream for me,? he whispers to my ear. His breath, fast and short, hits my lobe. There's no need to ask for it, though, since I'm already melting and shouting out like a squawky goose.

This husband of mine manages to be controlling even while partially incapacitated. How naive of me to think that I could get away with being the one in charge without consequences.

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