My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 191: Needy

Chapter 191: Needy

Unlike the trip to Montville, Oues was much further away because it was the closest city in Montclair to the capital region of the Castillian Kingdom. The ducal party would travel for three days after leaving Baron Gerard and his people behind. They would camp for two nights while the last would be spent in an inn so the couple could get refreshed before facing the Martin family.

Marquis Herbert Martin presided over the eastern region of Montclair. For generations, the Martins took advantage of the fertile region and made a business out of the wines produced in this area.

Unlike Gerard, Herbert was known for his shallow nature. There were rumors of shady business practices but it was hidden well enough for King Stephano III to leave the merchant family alone. Without solid evidence, the King didn’t have a leg to stand on. He ruled and made decisions based on evidence rather than feelings, which was how the previous king ran his business.

Meeting this family made Leonor the most nervous. The rumors she heard made Marquess Herbert sound an awful lot like her father.

However, rumors were only that. She thought Desmond would be frightening because of rumors and was proven wrong. She had to remind herself of this fact often when she was swept up by gossip.

Luckily, she could slowly prepare herself considering they had a long journey ahead.

After having such a pleasant conversation in the carriage, Leonor felt warm and fuzzy as she held her husband’s hand and they stopped at the place they would camp for the evening.

There was a large, unused hunting cabin meant for large parties of people. Only a few would have to camp outside, but they would be the ones who kept guard at night so it wasn’t an issue for them to make beds in such a place.

Being the only married couple on the journey, Desmond and Leonor were given the largest bed in a loft above the main living space. It was a small room with low ceilings that Desmond had to duck to walk underneath, but it would be more comfortable for them.

Leonor had never camped before.

When the large cabin was open and what was revealed was rows of beds, dusty furniture all around, and a pot belly stove in the corner where they would likely cook their breakfast, what Leonor was most surprised of was the wooden carved ladder that was how they would even reach the loft area.

As she was led forth, her eyes widened. It felt like a small adventure.

They had already eaten a final meal on the road, stopping at what could be considered a village to restore a few supplies. It was a perfect place to cook a rich stew that would fill them up until they woke up the following day.

Desmond had already gone into the loft to make sure it was free of dust and bugs for his wife while she washed her face and got ready for bed except for the nightgown he brought with him for her to change into. It was the best-kept space in the entire hunting cabin.

Even more luckily, he did not have a picky bride. He wasn’t sure how many other noble women would be willing to climb a ladder to get to sleep.

As Leonor placed her hands on the thick logs that made up the sides of the ladder, she took a deep breath and started to step to the first rung. However, Desmond rushed forth.

"I will follow you into the room," he spoke urgently.

Leonor turned to him with lowered eyebrows in curiosity, but she wouldn’t question him in front of his men. He never did anything without reason.

She finally started climbing up. By the time she was on the fifth rung, Desmond started going up as well.

The ladder was thick and the wood would hold them both easily.

As he looked up, he witnessed Leonor’s legs covered in stockings and her underskirts. That was the reason he was so urgent in making sure he was right behind her. It would hide the view from anyone else who might look in that direction.

If the view did so much to him, the one who was able to witness her in her barest state whenever he wanted, he couldn’t imagine what it would do to someone else who wasn’t allowed to lay a finger on her.

With a hot face, he made it to the top and continued following his wife until they were both shut in the tiny room with a slanted roof above their heads.

Luckily, two of the cabin’s walls were wood and the roof and longer sides were wood so the loft maintained a decent temperature since one of the stone walls they were against had a fireplace and chimney that went up and through their room.

Leonor sat on the bed with a sigh.

"It’s so warm in here," she muttered. "Riding in the carriage is getting colder by the day. I ought to think of bringing more blankets or wearing thicker skirts and gloves while we ride along."

Desmond’s mind was already in different directions and, with the hunched walk he had to do to get around that room, he decided to settle on the floor at Leonor’s feet.

"You ought to get into nightclothes," he said, though Leonor noticed he said it a bit breathlessly.

The duchess looked down at her husband with a thoughtful expression and a small smile pulled at her lips.

She had noticed before that nightgowns did something to him. He became a trained animal rather than a human being. He would beg with his eyes and actions until she gave in as if she were something delicious to eat.

All the fine dresses in the world with the tightest corsets that made her feel like her breasts may touch her chin and they were still less preferred than her natural, soft body underneath the silky material of a nightgown.

His hand was already removing her shoes and when they were off his hands began going up her calves.

"I need a proper bath," she insisted, holding her skirts down at her knee.

"We all do," Desmond argued quietly.

His hands went higher, only stopping where her hands blocked his path.

"Are you trying to help me?" she asked.

"Something of the sort," he muttered.

Leonor sighed his name but relented by falling back into the surprisingly soft bed. She felt his hands move higher and begin to remove her stockings.

He took such great care of her, even going so far as to kiss her knees once they were uncovered for him to see.

Luckily the room was warm and she didn’t feel uncomfortable to have her legs bare.

Without warning he kneaded into her calves and she let out a groan in disagreement. She had a habit of bracing herself in the carriage and her core and legs took the brunt of it.

"Despite sleeping in the carriage you still manage to tighten up," Desmond said quietly.

"You don’t have to do that," Leonor said even though her eyes had drifted shut at the firm but relieving ministrations. "You rode your horse for quite some time, don’t you think you deserve a massage more than me? Sore legs for a few days won’t kill me, after all. I’m simply not used to travel any longer."

"I’m used to it," he insisted. "I won’t get sore at all."

However, since she told him he didn’t have to do that, he went to another objective.

His hands left her legs and the skirts fluttered back down. He then settled further between her legs with his waist and began to slide his hands underneath her back, finding the ties that would release her dress.

"Do the subjects of Montclair know their duchess is so pampered she forces her help to dress and undress her?" he muttered sarcastically. "Such a capable woman in appearance and so lazy behind closed doors."

She immediately pressed against his chest as it came closer to her while he continued taking care of her like a doll.

His solid body didn’t budge and she then placed her hands over his mouth. He kissed her palm.

For the past two nights, they hadn’t been able to explore the physical side of their relationship. Leonor noticed that he had an internal clock that made him more needy when they hadn’t been close to one another. It was clockwork and an expected behavior. She could tell when it would happen and when it wouldn’t.

Since she wasn’t budging and didn’t say anything else, Desmond more dutifully took off her clothing and helped her into her nightgown.

However, she knew his gaze and touch lingered. He was so easy to figure out.

When she was dressed, she lay down once again. He showed signs and her feelings always responded. They were in sync in ways she never imagined.

"Please, kiss me," she finally relented.