Page 22 of The Governess Teaches A Duke (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #34)

Chapter Twenty-One

M aribel had retired to bed, but after much deliberation, she relocated to Thomas’s bed.

Despite his provoking her ire with his childish behaviour, she wanted to be close to him.

Too restless to fall asleep just yet, she was in front of his dressing room mirror.

The frame was an ornate bronze that spoke of its expense.

Maribel had wanted to stand nude in front of it but had not been brazen enough when Thomas was in the room.

She had seen it when he had shown her the privy room behind it.

He had then fascinated her with the news that his townhouse in London had recently had flushing toilets installed.

She smiled to herself, recalling his amusement at her questions.

A lamp was burning, giving her enough light to see her figure, and she ran her fingers softly over her figure.

Her plump curves had been worshipped by Thomas, and every inch of her person had felt cherished.

Her breasts still felt heavy. Her nipples were the colour of dark honey surrounded by a lighter areola.

The buds had hardened in arousal as her body responded to her wantonness.

Her hair hung loose, and she recalled Thomas commenting how prettily the chestnut curls at her head matched the hair between her legs.

It had never occurred to her a man could be so enraptured by every little detail.

She moved her hands to the swell of her stomach.

Maribel heard breathing, and realising it wasn’t hers, she diverted her gaze in the mirror and saw Thomas standing behind her in the dim light.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to see you standing here, Maribel. I had assumed you retired to your own bed.”

He moved to stand behind her, his chest against her back, and grabbed her hands with his own. Using their hands, he began to stroke her, stopping at her breasts to fondle her stiffened nipples. A moan escaped at the erotic action of both their hands caressing her.

“It feels good, doesn’t it, my sweet Maribel,” he whispered while peppering kisses along the length of her neck and collarbone.

She mewled in response, pressing her derrière against his crotch.

Moving their hands further down, he traced the dip of her hips and the small of her stomach before reaching the spot that was most desperate for his touch.

Still holding her hands in his own, he rubbed her mound, now moist with desire.

It felt so deliciously wrong to have both their hands touching her in that place.

“How decadent, Thomas,” she managed to gasp between quickened breaths.

“Yes, it is, and I am not done with you yet. Bend over and hold on to that chair over there and then spread your legs.”

Asking no questions she quickly adopted the requested position while he undressed.

Still behind her, he pulled her hips towards him, and she felt the length of him push inside her, pushing as deeply as he could, till she was certain that he filled every inch of her.

She gripped the chair tightly with her hands and kept her feet planted firmly on the floor to take every thrust in stride.

“You are so very wilful, Maribel. You match me at every turn,” he growled and spanked her bottom.

That sharp slap only heightened her desire.

“Do that again.”

He spanked her other cheek so that both sides smarted, and he increased the pace of his movements, gripping her hips tightly. That familiar wave of ecstasy began to spread throughout her limbs, and the climax hit her quickly and forcefully as she tried to hold her balance.

“I have you, Maribel, take your pleasure,” he cried as he joined her in release, pulling out and spending on her back.

* * *

Maribel felt at ease in Thomas’s arms, but sleep eluded her. The aftermath of their passion was still humming in her veins. Turning to face him, she propped herself up on one arm, using the other to stroke that devilish grey streak.

“Thomas, are you still awake?”

“I am, Maribel, is something wrong?”

“I have been yearning to run my fingers through these grey strands.”

“Is this why you woke me, to tell me I am an old man?” He asked in amusement.

“No, no, I am just reflecting on how content I feel. Though yes you are an old man,” she teased.

“As do I. Between that unexpected release and all the port, I feel depleted and very relaxed. Could also be my age you minx.”

“Why did you think I would not be waiting for you?”

“Because of my behaviour and your obvious annoyance. You do not have a subtle disposition, my sweet.”

“Why, yes, I was annoyed at your silliness, but not enough to want to spend a night away from you. And it was kind of endearing, seeing you jealous. It had not occurred to me that you would prone to such an emotion.”

“Usually I am not, but you are bringing out all kinds of new things in me, Miss Lewisham. Which Marcus was happy to point out,” he added drily.

“Well, while I am not sure what this is between us, I do know we have plenty of time to understand it all. For now, I am simply content to fall asleep in your arms.”

Thomas decided he would be guided by her.

He had assumed she would be pressing him for clarity on the definition of their relationship, but if she was content to just enjoy the moments, so was he.

They had plenty of time to discuss the future.

And he could use this time to decide how he would navigate defying societal boundaries.

Maribel was no commoner, but she still lacked any ties to the peerage.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he closed his eyes and pushed away the thoughts.

They had plenty of time to discuss the future.

The word future evoked many pleasing thoughts.

Maribel, his duchess. Mother to Clara. Belly rounded with their own baby.

“All in good time, my love,” he whispered, comforted by her sweet breath.