My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 252: His Medicine (R18)

Chapter 252: His Medicine (R18)

Leonor lowered herself to her knees in front of Desmond where he sat on the cushioned bench at the foot of their bed. She spoke volumes of how shocked she was by the way her mouth hung open.

The duke wore an unbuttoned white shirt and pale brown under shorts and stared guiltily down at his wife after she realized he truly had gotten hurt when she punched him earlier with one of her mana-shielded hands.

"I told you I was hurt, didn’t I?" he asked slyly, knowing very well he had distracted her so she wouldn’t pay attention to it anymore.

"You could have fooled me," she uttered. "In fact, you did."

Even though she had tapped out most of her mana that day, there was a bit of mana she hadn’t touched once. Her healing mana wasn’t necessary because Quinn made sure to control his mana so precisely that he never truly hurt her. Even with his throwing of mana at her, he was prepared to pull it back at any second.

Her hand began to glow blue and she placed it against her husband’s washboard stomach. It wasn’t necessary to touch someone to heal them as long as her mana made contact with their skin, but since it was Desmond, she was thorough.

It had been quite a while since he was conscious for someone’s healing. It always felt strangely warm and imposing. The effects could be felt below the surface of his skin. It was almost as irritating as when Stephano imbued him with his enchantment mana to change his eye color.

"That’s enough, Leonor," he said. "I won’t have you passing out on my behalf again."

"This is so much smaller than the last time I healed you," she assured him. "If I pass out from something so minor, I deserve to have my mana taken from me."

She already knew that Eve would eventually appear that night because she had worked so hard during the day.

Her hand no longer glowed and she was certain the bruise was healed, but she didn’t remove her hand.

Desmond tried to pull her upwards with her wrist so she would join him on the bench and resume what they had been doing just before they arrived in their temporary bedroom. He was surprised when she resisted him and shook her head.

"I’m fine where I am," she argued.

He felt disappointment rise within him when her hands left his body. As she lowered onto her backside from the kneeling position she was in, her hands went to his ankles and slid up to his knees.

"What are you doing?" he asked under his breath.

"I’m making sure all of you is healed," she responded innocently but the slight upturn of her lips made him know she was thinking far from innocently.

She was getting back at him considering how much trouble he had given her that day. First, he distracted her that morning with his aggressively affectionate kissing and then he didn’t tell her when he was actually hurt.

"I’m healed," he said. "In the best shape of my life."

Her hands went up his thighs but stopped before they could run over the undershorts he wore.

"You certainly are," she agreed as she used his legs to help her stand up.

She then sat on his lap and continued her exploration.

Part of what she was doing was genuinely based on mana healing. She was going the path of making sure someone didn’t have broken bones or damaged organs.

However, normally it wasn’t done so intimately. One could tell if someone was in pain with very little touch, after all.

He watched in amusement as she grabbed his wrists then traced up his arms to his shoulders then down his chest.

"Your heart is beating quite fast," she said. "Are you under stress?"

"Yes, you’re stressing me out quite a lot, in fact," he responded.

"Then I must be more thorough in my search," she said, biting back a smile.

Before he could wonder what she meant, Leonor’s hands slid down his stomach and over what was half-hardened in his undershorts.

Every time he thought he had been subtle and didn’t force her to notice that she had turned him on, she always managed to see right through him.

"How shall we take care of this?" she asked. "I would hate to see a patient in so much pain."

Desmond found Leonor’s act beyond amusing as she pretended to be innocent of his reaction to her.

He played along by leaning into her. Even though he was amused, he was about to lose his mind as she prodded him with no promise of giving him a release. His forehead met her shoulder.

"If the mage could help me to bed, that would be most helpful," he responded.

"Of course," she obliged.

Leonor seemed dutiful as she did what he requested by getting up from his lap and bringing him to the bed.

Before she could turn to see if he would lay on the bed, he stumbled forward and, for a moment she believed it was real until she felt his body press against the back of hers and he uttered, "Forgive me, mage, I must have tripped on something."

His hands slid over her waist and to her hips as he pretended to stabilize himself but she knew he was enjoying himself by the way he sighed into her neck. His manhood pressed against her lower back.

However, his lips left her neck and were replaced by his chin. The hand that once held her waist slipped underneath the light drawers she was forced to wear that day since she wore pants instead of a dress.

"Shouldn’t a patient rest?" she asked quietly, perhaps she was thinking of herself more than Desmond at that moment. She didn’t want to admit to how tired the day had made her.

Her facade was falling and it was getting harder to pretend that they didn’t go to their room with a prior assumption involved. His hands were making her forget much of anything if she was honest with herself.

"I need medicine," he whispered as his fingers deftly went between her petals and he found wetness and realized just how much she liked their little game.

He lifted his hands to his lips and tasted her juices.

"I can give you more," she said and her fingers went to the edge of her drawers.

She pulled them down and leaned away from him. Instead, she offered herself to him in a different way. Her hands were on the bed and she looked over her shoulder at him.

Desmond took the bait immediately. She was already wet and he slid down his underpants.

"I’m going to take you," he whispered.

"Please do," she responded and braced herself.

He slid into her slowly and her body shuttered.

The duke watched Leonor’s back tremble as she got used to the feeling of him inside of her.

Because of their height difference, Leonor had to stand on her toes for him to enter her, but it soon became more comfortable to put one of her knees on the bed and the arch of her back became deeper as her body accepted Desmond fully.

He found that she really was medicine as the hell of a day he had was forgotten and all he could focus on was the beautiful woman trembling at his touch. His eyes were glued onto the place where they joined. He couldn’t keep his hands off her backside as he became better acquainted with her in a position they were discovering they enjoyed a lot.

Leonor felt like she was being impaled deeper than ever before each time his hips met her backside. It didn’t help that her body betrayed her, being insistent on getting closer to him as her back arched and her legs spread.

"I never could have dreamed..." he gasped. "My beautiful Leonor..."

Desmond didn’t have complete thoughts as he felt his wife in such a way.

However, his eyes drifted up and he realized he was missing something when his eye fell on her face contorted in pleasure in the mirror’s reflection on the other side of the bed.

He watched as he dominated her body. It felt almost cruel but with each thrust, he couldn’t ignore the pleasure evident in her expression.

Soon he pushed harder until she was forced to place both of her knees on the bed and Desmond’s hand slid against her stomach and up her chest so he could lift her and remove the half chemise she wore under her shirt.

Her breasts were revealed and only then did she realize he was having a full show of her. She was unaware of it until she saw herself in the reflection with a flushed face and his arms hugging her breasts as he kissed her neck and whispered sweet nothings.

After a moment, one of his hands slid lower and he found the bundle of nerves that was certain to make her lose her mind.

"D-Desmond," she gasped and her eyes fluttered closed.

"Open your eyes, my dear," he whispered. "I never knew you could make such an expression."