My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 297: On Equal Footing (R18)

Chapter 297: On Equal Footing (R18)

It was whiplash going from making love to his wife nearly each and every night to being forced to sleep outdoors with men all around him. His selfish body had gotten used to being spoiled and all he did half the time was crave more, more, and more.

While being pent up was great in the face of battle and in sword fighting, it wasn’t great when the woman he wanted was hanging onto him for comfort. He knew it was ridiculous to have those thoughts still as she was healing, but her scent and breath tickling his bare neck were enough for him to need some space.

As he escaped to the bathroom, he felt ridiculous knowing what he was about to do. Yet he would rather burden himself than burden his beautiful wife who slept soundly thinking good thoughts about her husband. Unfortunately, the fact was that he was an animal with the desire to breed.

First, Desmond opened the window in the corner of the bathroom, hoping that the cold air on his face would help cool him off, but his desire was beastly.

Eventually, he relented and leaned against the counter with a sigh he hoped was quiet enough that his wife wouldn’t hear him from the other side of the closed door. Even though the rooms were expansive, she was a light sleeper at the most inconvenient of times.

His hand went to his stomach but it slowly brushed down the front of him until it slipped into his pants and gripped the flesh that wouldn’t calm down. Despite everything going on, he still had room for desire within him which was so unbelievably shameful.

The shame was fleeting as he began pumping his hand.

One of his favorite things to do was allow Leonor to ride him so he could be suffocated by her generous breasts. The times that she was the most stagnant, her body became soft and her breasts seemed to grow bigger. There was a period of time where he was feeding her well and she wasn’t practicing magic so her body was softer than it ever had been before.

Her breasts were always beyond his wildest imagination, but, at that period of their life, they had something a bit extra about them.

He fantasized shamelessly even though his free hand went over his lips and didn’t allow his moans to escape. Waking up Leonor and having her bear witness to what he was doing would be far too shameful.

His hand cupped the head of his manhood and he shuddered. He hadn’t touched himself like that for quite a while. It felt exhilarating for a different reason even though all he wished was to meet Leonor between the sheets and delve into her body as he so freely did when they were in the palace.

He shouldn’t have taken those moments for granted.

Eventually, his hand dropped from his lips as he lost concentration and the hand that wasn’t pleasuring him gripped the stone countertop he leaned against.

Not entirely numb to the world around him, he gasped when he heard the door to the bathroom open. If there were a lock, he would have locked it.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t.

+

After being affected by black magic, Leonor felt depleted and cold. Every time Desmond wasn’t right next to her, a blanket wouldn’t even work to stave off the cold.

While a fire was burning in the fireplace, Leonor still noticed when her husband was no longer at her side. The temperature dropped dramatically in her mind, although the true reason was probably closer to her feeling unsafe without her watchful protector at her side.

The last time she fell asleep, it was late afternoon or evening, but now it was completely dark. As she looked around the room, searching for Desmond, she realized the bathroom door was shut, but there were no candles lit inside. That likely meant he wasn’t even there.

Worry of a possible war constantly loomed over them, especially considering how close they were to the border in Burien. She hoped that he hadn’t been called away in an emergency. Normally, he would have at least told her. What if he had, but she didn’t remember?

Wanting to get to the bottom of it, Leonor stood up on still slightly weak legs and glanced at the one remaining lit candle on the candelabra. Not feeling like lighting more, she stalked over to the bathroom door and opened it without much thought.

By that time, her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the room. The last thing she was expecting was to see her husband with his shirt balled up and hand wrapped around his length as he indulged in some self-pleasure.

Despite everything, her mouth hung open, though the corners were upturned in a smirk.

"Desmond!" she gasped.

She had to stabilize herself using the doorframe, unable to believe what she was seeing.

However, her reaction made her feel bad when Desmond’s gaze left hers, and he crumbled with a hand over his face. It was too dark to see if he was blushing, but she knew, based on his pale skin, that he certainly was.

When Leonor found her footing, she walked over to him, her feet feeling cold on the tile until she made it to the rug that he was standing on top of.

"I’m sorry-"

He seemed so unbelievably ashamed.

Leonor leaned into him and pulled his hand from his face. She gazed up at him even though he was fighting it.

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked quietly. "Isn’t it normal to feel this way?"

She needed him to say yes because, the nights she was in the capital all alone, there were a few times she lay in bed wishing she could fill the silence with their gasps of pleasure. Never before had she touched her own body, but Desmond showed her what she liked in the last few months, and she explored herself while she missed her husband.

He unlocked something within her that she didn’t know existed.

Seeing him so desperate the way she had been made her heart and body wake up.

In a bold move, the duchess placed her hand over the bulge in her husband’s sleeping pants that had grown slightly softer at the shame of facing his wife while doing such a thing. However, her touch made it harden once again.

He only allowed her to play with him for a few moments before reality returned to the duke and he grabbed his wife’s wrist.

"You need to rest," he whispered. "You haven’t recovered."

"Then do all the work, Desmond," Leonor persisted. "But I’m feeling just as lonely as you have been."

After much silent consideration, Desmond grabbed Leonor’s hand and started walking towards the room again.