How to Survive as the Wife of The Monster Duke

Aden moved his free hand to Ilyin’s chest.
Her skin was hot, like summer.
Her cheeks flushed red at his touch.

“Sweet talk,” he whispered again.
Ilyin had no words but let the hand that had been caressing his cheek trace downward along his neck, his chest, sliding around to brush his strong back.
Her other hand, the one that was still intertwined with his, moved to his face, a single finger brushing his lip.

They moved closer.
Ilyin laughed lightly, then kissed the bridge of his nose.

“Is this not better than words?” she asked.
The closeness of her breath stirred him, even more than the touch of her lips.

“Does this not say more?” she whispered, shifting to lay her head on his chest.
She could hear his breath within, flowing in smooth rhythm.
She could feel his strong heartbeat pulsing in her ear… and felt it quicken at her touch.

There was the truth beneath his stony expression, she thought.

“Does this not speak to you like sweet words?”

“It does,” he whispered with just the hint of a grin, “just faintly.”

“Ah,” she replied, “you need more?”

Trying his best to re-affix his stern mask, he nodded.

“Then…”

The hand that had been brushing his lip untangled itself from his, slid down to his chest.
He was always natural with her, always both soothing and arousing, as she needed.
But today, she would take her turn for him.

Her hand danced lightly down his chest, releasing the buttons of his shirt as it went.
Only a slight tremble of anticipation hobbled its graceful motion.
His hand found hers again, grabbing it gently, steadying it as she finished the last button.

She slipped her hand free of his again and let it flit back to his chest.
She let her fingers graze the hard muscle of it, then meandered lazily back down to his stomach.

She wanted him to be happy, as he made her happy.
She wanted his people to be loyal because he was kind and warm, not from simple fear.
She wanted his heart to stay kind, to be light with joy.

He let out a soft moan, and the hand that had been tracing meaningless shapes on his stomach wandered back to his chest.
His breath quickened, and she smiled.

“Is this enough?” she asked playfully.

“Not nearly,” he said.
His breath was already becoming ragged with arousal, but he feigned disappointment, craving what more she could offer.

Her hand moved lightly down again, back across his stomach – this time venturing just a bit further than she meant, along the crest of his hip.
He stifled a gasp, and she pulled her hand back.
Aden laughed.

“You ventured close that time,” he said hoarsely.

Ilyin cheeks flushed deep red at his words.
She could see the bulge already forming near where her hand had wandered.
It wouldn’t need much more encouragement from her.
She looked up at his face, patient yet ready.

She let her hand wander down again, this time setting its course for Aden’s rising bulge.
She felt him draw in a silent gasp as her hand lingered over it.
Even through his clothes, she could feel the clear shape of it.
Quickly, she pulled his pants free, and – now unrestrained, it stood waiting for her.

She had only ever felt it raging inside her.
She had seen it in a mirror once before but had never seen it this close.
She grazed it with the back of her hand, watching it twitch blindly in response to her.

“Ah,” Aden sighed.
With such a soft touch, she was raising fire in him.
The back of her hand glided slowly against his shaft, down and back, and she looked up at him.

“Can I persuade you… like this?”

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her breath washing over his c*ck.
The summer scent of her seemed heavy in the air.
He breathed it in deeply.

He burned to hold her, to let the scent of her wash over him.
His body trembled as Ilyin continued brushing him softly.
He sighed again, and behind his eyelids fire burned in his eyes.

She felt him shudder, felt his ragged breaths, but she kept her focus where she was, tending to him, teasing him.
Normally, their roles would be reversed, with him guiding her to pleasure.
Yet she knew his body, its rhythms, and signs as he ascended.
Even in their slow, tender nights, she could feel when his climax was nearing.

She turned her hand, letting her fingers trace the length of his shaft.
Her face flushed – she never thought she would do such things.
But she wanted his pleasure, wanting to give him a gift in return for all his patient nights with her.

She moved suddenly, grabbing him, and guiding him into position on his back as she sat on his legs.
He yielded without resistance.
His c*ck stood tall in front of her.
Seeing it so close, so engorged made her blush again, so instead she leaned forward to him.

“Oooh,” he breathed as she drew close to kiss him.
She did it as he did, so many times, brushing his lower lip first, then falling into a deeper kiss and letting her tongue find his.