My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 275: In Their Own World (R18)

Chapter 275: In Their Own World (R18)

Each time Leonor and Desmond met one another behind closed doors was just as special as the very first time. Even at the frequency in which they joined each other’s bodies in the realm of pleasure, they reached new heights of connectedness that neither one of them thought was possible.

There was a palpable sense of rushing as Desmond took them out of the palace and ran to the Queen’s Palace as if his life depended on it.

Leonor could feel his body head radiating off of him so much that she thought if she stripped him he might start steaming in the frozen winter night they were having. She was tempted to test her theory out if it weren’t for the desperation she was also feeling after the way he touched her in such a public place then abruptly stopped himself so he could enjoy her in a more appropriate setting.

However, even when they were behind closed doors, it could hardly be deemed as appropriate.

Their clothing was stripped off and discarded as if their outfits weren’t made by the finest of seamstresses. Desmond even went so far as to not only use his hands to strip his wife but teeth and feet to discard whatever he could.

He was naked much more quickly than she was and his desperation became even worse.

The moment her dress was tossed away and her underskirts and corset were no longer caging her body, Desmond lifted her by the waist and placed her on top of a wooden table just next to their front door.

Leonor gripped the edge of the table as she was suddenly balancing and she looked at Desmond with unbridled worry.

"What are you–ugh!"

Her answer came quickly as he spread her legs and revealed the treasure he had been after.

He was quick to his knees as he buried his tongue inside of her and his nose pressed against the bundle of nerves at the top. Tasting her in her rawest form was something that stayed in his head for the longest whenever he did it. There was nothing like the taste of Leonor’s body.

Just thinking about it at any point in the day would make him hard. He wondered at times if he was truly a wild animal.

Thinking of it was one thing, but tasting it was entirely different.

He couldn’t help himself as one of his hands traveled down his taut stomach and wrapped around his hardened length, squeezing it as he tried to control himself. It was jealous of his tongue but he wanted to taste her for longer and see her lose control. If his chin wasn’t dripping by the time he was finished, he wouldn’t think his job was well done.

The moans she let out were delicious to his ears almost as much as her taste.

Desmond going down on Leonor was something that had taken a while to get used to. Each time she wanted to insist that it was too much and dirty but his insistence and enthusiasm once she allowed him to had changed her heart.

She was finally at a place where she could let him do as he pleased because he knew her body and knew how she liked to be touched. He memorized her like his favorite poem and could recite it by memory, using her body as the canvas of his creativity.

The grip on the table became a grip on Desmond’s hair as moans that didn’t even sound like her own escaped her lips.

She could no longer hold back when his tongue slid furiously over her clit and he slid a finger inside of her.

Her thighs trembled and her body clenched. Her hand on his head certainly suffocated him with her womanhood but he was just as enthusiastic as if he didn’t need to breathe.

With the same amount of determination, he made sure she was fully finished before he dared to stop.

She had to slouch until her head was against the wall and she stared up at her husband who had suddenly stood up after his work was finished. He smirked down at her and she became a bit coy.

"Are you proud of yourself?" she uttered. "What if we broke this table?"

"I would pay for it," he said. "Now, come."

He grabbed her hand and helped her off of said table.

However, he was shocked when she planted her heels on the lush carpet and stopped them from going forth.

He had to admit that he was disappointed if she wanted to stop there but he would understand if the day was too stressful and tiring for her to keep going.

"This way," she instructed firmly.

To his surprise, she instead pulled his hand in a different direction, and a low armchair that they hadn’t gotten much use out of stood in the corner underneath two windows. Leonor pushed the footrest away with her foot and pushed her husband onto the chair.

If she had to get used to something he wanted to do to her, he had to do the same.

Even though it was always met with resistance, Leonor lowered to her knees in front of her husband and he stared down at her with his eye wide.

She smirked at him as if to say "Yes, this is what I’m going to do now" and, not breaking eye contact, she took the head of his manhood into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the top of it.

Desmond couldn’t even pretend it didn’t feel like heaven on Earth because a moan escaped his parted lips and he put a hand over his face while the other one gripped the arm of the chair as he fought the urge to push his wife’s head further down.

The biggest issue for him was that he couldn’t bring himself to be fully engulfed by her touch. It felt too good that he was worried he would hurt her because his body was responding against his will. He lost all self-control each time he looked down at her with her sapphire eyes focused on his expression and his manhood filled her mouth to the brim.

He let her have her fun for a short time, but when she took his length in her mouth too deeply and her eyes began to water was when he sat up straight and pulled himself out of her.

"I want to be inside of you, Leonor," he whispered. "I want us to both enjoy ourselves at the same time."

The duchess’ petals were already dripping at the sight of him so uninhibited and she didn’t hold back as she climbed into the chair with her husband.

Before he could predict her next move, she leaned into his bare chest so their lips could meet, but at the same time, she grabbed his length and lowered herself onto him until he was penetrating her.

With a moan against his lips, he was sheathed fully inside of her.

She rested in his lap for a moment and got used to him filling her up entirely.

Desmond gave her all the time she could need and when she placed her hands on his shoulders and lifted herself upwards, he eagerly looked up at her.

"My love," he moaned. "Please give me what I’m dying for."

She could only nod before sliding him fully inside of her again.

As she used her arms to propel herself up and down, she was starting to let the slow feeling get to her head.

"Oh, God..." she uttered and her head lulled back as she gave into the feeling.

Desmond was ever greedy and wanted more. He began meeting her thrusts and holding her thighs so she could move a bit faster.

Their bodies slapped into each other each time they met and their moans filled the room.

It became too much for Leonor when he started playing with her petals and teasing the top with his thumb.

Even before he could find release one time, she had already come twice. He was eager to lead her to her next but when her body clenched around him, he knew it was all over for him. As he gripped her thighs, he was almost worried he was holding too tightly but the feeling was overwhelming. The pleasure was so intense he felt dizzy.

For a while, there was only breathing in the room as they calmed down from the high of the love they made with each other. They were still connected but gently kissing one another and showing each other slower affection.

Still inside of his wife, Desmond stood up when he felt her sweat drying and her skin growing cold. He placed her in the bed and revived the fire before going to the bathroom and finding a washcloth to clean her up.

It was something he often did if she was exhausted. He would use any excuse to touch her exquisite body.

As he covered her with soft blankets and decided he would climb into bed with her, there was an urgent knock on the door.

Even in the dimly lit room, they shared a confused expression as to why anyone would be trying to get to them in the middle of the night.

Since it was only a maid telling him he had messengers there to see him, he tightened his robe around his body and went downstairs.

"Forgive the interruption, Your Grace," the officer said. "You have been summoned by His Majesty to report to the palace. The envoys sent last month have been murdered. Only their heads return to the palace tonight."