Heat. It slithers down my spine, threatening to rob me of air as I struggle to ease myself from beneath the thick blankets holding me hostage. Though the cool, crisp breeze from my movements fan against my flushed face, it does nothing to quell the unease coiling around my body. Something is not quite right, but I can’t put my finger on it.
Try as I might, I cannot seem to dispel it. Perhaps I’m merely overheated from some sort of exertion I’m unaware of? Though that might be less likely. There was no grand upheaval when my husband came home. There was no ripping of shifts and sheets to devour me.
Nothing.
A whole lot of nothing lately.
An odd despondency winds its way through my brain as I snuggle in closer to Edward only to find the heat still far too much. He must be the cause of it. No matter. I shall break my fast even if he scalds me from the inside out.
The insistent warmth continues to envelop me, leaving me breathless as I reach out to caress my husband next to me. Husband. The word rolls through my head as I inch my fingers ever closer to his cock, my ultimate prize, a smile dancing across my lips. Only, as I drift down my hand further, hoping to graze against the part of him that never fails to make me cry out in pure ecstasy, I find he’s already shifting off the bed, leaving cool air to eddy in his wake.
A frown tilts down my lips as I push myself up onto my arms and simply blink at him in the dimness. Though he certainly doesn’t seem to notice. Even the bond lies still between us, eerily silent without even a hint of fire racing through. Not like the night he finally took my virginity. Not like the night we gave ourselves over to our passions after a hasty binding before the minister.
“Edward,” I murmur, my voice soft on the air. “Are you really content to be up this early? Do you not wish to lie next to me and rouse at a far more luxurious hour?”
Finally, a small bit of amusement drifts between us as the bond warms back up, allowing me to see just a glimpse of the camaraderie between us, a camaraderie I rather miss. Though the passion, when we have it, is great, to be sure, it’s this feeling of closeness that endears me the most.
Without it, I feel hollow, an empty shell. Such utter bollocks, if you ask me. In the span of one night, he stole something from me far more precious than my virginity—my lusts, my desires, and my very sanity. Now, I look to him, seek him out. I’ve lost the woman I once was in deference to him.
And for what?
Again, dissatisfaction wells in my very soul, yet even through the bond, he doesn’t seem to notice. As with most days, his mind is elsewhere. Preoccupied with something other than me.
“My love,” he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. “If I indulged you, we would not be leaving this bedchamber until nigh time for someone to come find us and make sure we are well.”
Confusion furrows my brow as I slide up further in the bed and allow the sheets to slide down my front and pool at my waist. If he sees my nakedness, however, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he strides across the room toward the small dressing room where I’m sure his valet waits to attend him.
“Is that so very wrong? Are we not still within the time to be celebrating our nuptials? I say responsibility be hanged. Can’t your friends at Parliament not spare you at all for a proper honeymoon?”
A pained expression flickers across his face in the light of the dying fire, and with it, his emotions, what little there are, disappear from his side of the bond completely. It’s as if a door slams closed between us, effectively shutting me back out.
“My dear, if I could spend all my waking hours betwixt your thighs, I would. Unfortunately, duty calls. As my duchess, I thought you understood the burden of this position.”
At the patronizing tone in his voice, my lips curl into a soft snarl, but even with this show of defiance, there is no physical reprimanding, no reminding me of my place as a titled lady. Nothing. Just his retreating back and absolutely delectable backside. How I long to sink my teeth into his tight, round muscles, but soon, I know he’ll be covered in head to toe. Once that happens, who knows when he’ll be willing to give way to passion?
“My duchess hungers,” he growls out, causing slick to gather between my thighs as the addicting ache thrums through me. “Alas, duty calls. I will most certainly attend to you this evening.”
With that, he slips into the dressing room, leaving me alone on the bed. Attend to me this evening? As if I’m just one more thing to check off his list before retiring for the evening? Crossing my arms, I stare out into the room, a huff lingering on my lips. As he so well attended me last evening? And the evening before that. And the evening even before that? Or rather, hadn’t?
Don’t be so sullen, my dear, he murmurs through the bond. You know I struggle to resist your charms. If I am to get anything done at all, I must deprive myself of your delectable presence. Now be a good girl for me and get into your shift and wrapper. Evangeline is a fine maid, and I don’t want her scandalized at your nakedness.
Unable to resist the irritation flooding my very soul, I scrunch up my face and stick my tongue out. Something, anything, to feel as if I have any say or autonomy over what’s happening. Rolling off the bed, I slip my shift over my head. The soft silk feels odd against my skin as I long to remain naked and used until I cannot think or breathe anymore.
Apparently, that is not on today’s agenda. Tugging my wrapper around my body, I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for my lady’s maid. As if she sat just outside the door until I was decent, a soft knock echoes through the room just moments before she steps inside.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” she chirps as she strides over to the window and tosses open the curtains.
In a fit of pique, I throw my arm over my eyes and hiss, pretending to be mortally wounded by the sudden illumination.
“My, my,” she laughs. “You are in quite the mood. Come. I have just the thing to coax you back to the land of the living.”
The scent of the warming chocolate greets my nose, making my stomach growl in the most unladylike manner, but truly, I find I do not care. What is the point of being a lady without the contrast of being ravaged like a common ladybird at any available hour of my husband’s choosing?
I thought that was to be my life. I never wished to be so prim and proper always. Sitting down at the small table, I swirl the chocolate in the glass before staring out of the window.
Dust motes flit through the air as I blink against the dull rays struggling to force their way inside through the thick fog of clouds concealing the sky. Dreary. Dreadful. Dull. A perfect facsimile to this horrid mood.
An odd itch tingles under the skin as I take another sip and stare out into the nothingness.
“Are you quite well, Your Grace?” Evangeline pipes up. As I glance over at her, I denote the worry in her pinched expression.
“As well as I suppose I should be. Why?”
“Well, your face is flushed and your eyes are glassy.” Her lips quirk into a mischievous smile as she lowers her tone and glances about the room. “But not in the way I usually see it after His Grace has his way with you.”
A soft chuckle drifts from my lips to intermingle with hers as the man in question strides back into the room, fairly resplendent in only his morning clothes. How I’ll never tire of seeing his massive shoulders and narrow waist. Although, it is something a bit further down that captures my attention.
Only, a haphazard glance proves he’s not as desperate and wanting as I am. Hunger gnaws at my insides as I grip the table to keep myself from launching at him. I am already far too unladylike for his tastes. To accost him in front of a maid… I’m not sure if he’ll indulge me or punish me.
My lips twist as I flood the bond with the desire to be under his punishing hand. Surely he can’t resist that. His eyebrow raises as he glares down at me, setting my pulse to a rapid staccato. And that’s it. Nothing. No threat of retribution. No promise of later. Just irritation.
Has he tired of me so quickly? Surely not.
“What are your plans for today, my dear,” he murmurs as he examines his shirt in the mirror.
“I figured I’d start the day with a nice breakfast, a romp with my husband, and luncheon with my friends.”
Evangeline stifles a laugh behind a cough, but it’s not quick enough. With another fierce glare, he jerks his head toward the door, motioning for her to leave. With a quick bow, she takes off, but pauses just as her hand touches the knob to give me a quick wink.
Of course, he notices. Why wouldn’t he notice? With a weary groan, he runs his hands over his face before planting them on his hips.
“Is it your occupation in life to vex me? Do you wish to see me vexed? Is that it?” Though the tone of his voice is teasing, I can hear the tension beneath it.
With a soft purr, I rise from the chair with as much elegance as I can muster before making my way over to him. As I run my hands down the front of his shirt, my mind drifts a bit. It tears away from the ravaging heat I wish for him to put out and onto tiny threads that poke out from the fine, white linen like enemy soldiers needing to be rooted out.
“Well?” he grumbles as he wrenches my hands away. “Are you wishing to garner my attention or play with my shirt? I dare say I do not have time for you to do both.”
Tearing my gaze away from the fibers sticking out that seem to encompass everything that feels wrong, I stare into his eyes and reach out through the bond. Still nothing.
“Do you not want me anymore?” I finally whimper.
His gaze softens as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “Dear little thorn. I crave you more than life itself. If I could give you the world, I would.”
That irrational fit of anger blazes hot in my gut as I pull away and cross my arms. “And yet, we are still here. We are in London when I should be over in Italy underneath you as your massive cock nearly tears me asunder.”
There. Just underneath the ice gathered between us, I feel a frisson of need, a spark of longing. But all too soon, it is snuffed out.
“Italy is out of the question for the time being. Napoleon is making things rather difficult, and I’d rather have you petulant and alive instead of satisfied and harmed or worse.”
“Then Bath? Something?” I cry out. “Anything? I am supposed to be your wife. I feel as if I am only that in name and no way else. I- You- How can you resist me so?”
Another one of those delicious growls drips from his lips as he stalks forward, unfastening his breeches with every step. Finally. Something. Seems I only needed to make him upset with me to get it.
“Kneel.”
Again, I cross my arms and smirk. “Make me. Or has marriage finally rendered you so ancient that you can no longer handle me?”
The bond opens for a second as a flood of emotions pours over me, nearly drowning me in their wake. Unable to fight, I simply sink to my knees in submission.
“Open.”
So it is my mouth that will be used and not the part of me that’s so desperate for his touch?
“Come now,” he mocks as he runs his hand up and down his exquisite erection. “You wanted my attention so badly to bait me in my own home, our home. Now that I am to show you the consequences of your actions, you sit there as if you no longer want it? I knew you to be fickle, but this is far too much.”
“I want you to fuck me,” I finally screech, no doubt loud enough that the gentle servants throughout the floor hear it.
“Language,” he murmurs as the only chastisement.
“Or what?” I counter. “The basin lies over there. Are you to wash my mouth out with soap like an errant child? I am a woman now. You saw to that.”
His eyes flash as fiercely as lightning streaking across the Thames, sending a slight niggle of unease through my core. Have I pushed too far? Have I crossed some boundary I will never come back from?
Instead of responding to my outburst with his words, he threads his fingers through my hair and wrenches my head back. “I aim to indulge you where I can,” he seethes. “But your actions at the present are simply childish. You claim to be a woman, an omega duchess to stand by my side. Yet here you are, making demands of me you have no right to make.”
“As your wife, am I not entitled? Is that not what the agreement was? Or is our sleeping in the same bedroom merely for show?”
His touch tempers a bit as he sighs. “It is not for show. I know I have been neglectful of late-”
“Several nights now,” I interject only to have him tighten his grip in my hair once more until pinpricks of pain dance along the scalp and settle somewhere far lower.
My clit pulses, aching, needy, that small bite of pain making me nearly delirious with need.
“I cannot indulge you this morning. Not as you require it. I have matters to attend to. Important matters that cannot wait because my duchess wishes for me to tie her up and taste every inch of her skin.”
As my lips part in a soft moan at his lurid words, he nudges the tip of his cock between them. With just one lap of my tongue against the hole to gather some precum into my mouth, I find myself overwhelmed with a need that will not be so easily quenched. Drawing him in deeper, I suck on the salty skin, seeking out his seed so that I can fill this hunger burning in my stomach.
“Oh no, my vexing duchess,” he growls, pulling back so he can control the pace. “This is to be a lesson, a reminder that you belong to me. Your pleasure is mine to control. Not yours.”
He wrenches my head back and feeds his cock deeper into my mouth until his tip touches the back of my throat. Though I gag, I find that I do not care. Tears prick my eyes as he holds me there, using me for his purpose, taking my mouth as savagely as he would my pussy.
My fingers scrabble over his implacable thighs as he continues to saw in and out, grunting with each thrust. God, but the very sound of his pleasure spurs me forward.
I lap at the underside with each slide in and suck as he tries to pull out. Though he means to punish me, all he does is build up the pleasure coiling inside until there’s nothing else but him and me. I close my eyes to savor the feel of him, the utter softness of the skin wrapping around the steel of his cock.
All too soon, his knot swells and bumps against my lips. No. It’s not fair. I want more time. More him. More of this. But I cannot stop it. I cannot control it.
With a loud roar, he presses me closer, shoving his cock down my throat until my lips lie smashed against his pulsing knot. As I wring the thick, swollen flesh with my hands, mimicking my pussy as best as I can, cum surges down, filling my belly.
Hunger renewed, I suck at him, forcing each drop into my mouth until there’s nothing left. Frantic whimpers claw at my insides as I run my tongue along his ruddy tip as he eases out, desperate to find just one more drop. Soon, he fully pulls from me, leaving me bereft as he tucks his phallus back behind the shield of his breeches.
“I will attend to you later,” he sighs as a hint of guilt beats at the bond. “I must get on with my day. See you at breakfast.”
As he turns his back to me, the heat continues to ravage my insides. Breakfast indeed. If he’s not going to see to the need clearly racing through my insides, then I shall. Consequences be hanged.
