My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 202: Pushing (R18)

Chapter 202: Pushing (R18)

Leonor had gotten better at undoing her husband’s belt and trousers. Each time she did it successfully, it was like opening a present.

His manhood always managed to spring towards her excitedly. The sight of it always made her heart race and between her legs felt tingly.

That part of him could make her feel very good one day, but she would continue being obedient since he said no.

However, there was something else the marchioness mentioned. Something Leonor had been curious about but didn’t dare mention until her intoxicated mind gave her the confidence to press forward.

Despite how much he wanted to tell her no, Desmond was already partially hard and Leonor’s prodding wasn’t helping.

To his surprise, she lowered herself between his legs and lifted his manhood. Without warning, she licked his sensitive head and his hips jolted as an electrifying feeling took over.

She licked a few more times, eliciting similar responses.

It wasn’t as bad as some book had said so she became more brave, putting his head entirely in her mouth. She slowly slid his length out from between her lips.

The duchess was pleased by Desmond’s moaning.

"So men do like this, after all," Leonor uttered when he no longer filled up her mouth.

She lowered her mouth on his head once again. That time, she lowered further than before, taking him a third of the way into her mouth and being surprised at how much it filled her mouth.

He felt out of control as he thrusted, but the movement made Leonor gag considering he hit the back of her throat.

The noise of her discomfort brought Desmond back to earth immediately and he pulled himself out of her mouth and sat up straighter. He took Leonor from under the blankets and brought her to his side.

"Enough," he said, weakly, even if it wasn’t what he wanted. "You’re too drunk, Leonor. Let’s revisit this when we both haven’t had something to drink."

"Why does it matter?" she asked.

"It feels like I’m taking advantage of your state of mind," he admitted quickly, having the answer ready from the moment she asked something of the sort.

Leonor let out a frustrated noise and fell into the bedding with her hands over her face. She knew she was being illogical but she was using the alcohol as a crutch to carry her somewhere she was normally too timid to go.

Desmond took advantage of her falling backwards and he got onto his hands and knees, the blankets going with him then sliding off when he moved. He grabbed one of Leonor’s legs and spread it wide.

All she wore was a nightgown. It gave him all the access he needed.

In the candlelight, he bore witness to a part of her he truly did want all of, but it was so special to him that he wanted to wait.

"We ought to even the score," he whispered breathlessly. "Let me lower myself to you. I have free will while it feels like you don’t."

She wasn’t sure what he meant until his chest pressed against the bed and both of her legs were spread for him. For easier access, he put one of her legs over his shoulder.

He knew what she liked when he touched her with his fingers, but what about his mouth?

Hesitantly at first, he slid his tongue over her moistened petals and to the very top where a bundle of nerves waited impatiently for him to touch them. Once the nub was covered with a hot, wet tongue, Leonor moaned loudly, entirely out of her control.

"D-don’t," Leonor uttered, shaking her head back and forth. "I-I didn’t bathe properly. What if it’s dirty?"

"This part of you could never be dirty," he whispered.

Since she could still talk, he felt he wasn’t doing enough to take her mind off of the situation.

Considering she liked the tip of his tongue against her clit so much, he focused on this part. Simply licking her was enough for a moment, but his curiosity ate at him more. He soon put his lips against her core and sucked on the nub he had been paying such good attention to.

Leonor’s moans became louder. He had to hold her hips down so that he wouldn’t lose the rhythm he created.

The longer he could taste this part of Leonor, the more his mouth began to get tired. The scarred side felt particularly stiff, but she sounded like she was enjoying it so much, he wanted to keep making her feel good.

When it was nearly too much for him to handle, his movements slowed.

"Don’t you dare stop," Leonor uttered breathlessly. "I’m so clo–"

Desmond didn’t allow her to finish her sentence. As his tongue danced against the bundle of nerves, he slid two fingers inside of her.

She couldn’t speak because she was crying out instead.

Only when he could feel her body convulsing and his fingers being squeezed did his movements cease. He knew that Leonor would at least calm down enough to get some sleep.

When she was sober, then they could approach going to the next level.

Desmond licked his drenched fingers off and dried them off on his pants. He then crawled higher on Leonor’s body and pressed his lips against her neck, feeling her pulse racing as she caught her breath.

She was so exhausted from the mix of alcohol and the euphoria that came from orgasming at the hands of the person she loved. Desmond felt neglected but he wouldn’t dare press for more at the state of his tired wife.

Rather than showing her what she had done to him, he pulled her to his side and pulled the blankets to her shoulders.

Shortly after he knew she was asleep, the duke escaped to the bathroom to take care of himself. The entire evening was too much for him. It couldn’t have lasted more than fifteen minutes but in that expanse of time, she turned him on in ways he wasn’t familiar with.

He tried to pace himself, saying they would discuss it later. Perhaps they wouldn’t even talk about Leonor’s insistence or insecurities until they returned to Piedmont.

The duke found it difficult to sleep as so many conflicting and intersecting thoughts ate away at his mind.