Page 32 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
“Please don’t stop,” Beatrice moaned.
Kenneth slipped his hand between her thighs and slowly circled the hardened nub at the apex of her sex. He increased the pressure until she was writhing beneath him and letting out small cries of pleasure.
Kenneth trailed kisses down her belly, never ceasing the pressure against her sex. His lips continued their journey until his tongue flicked between her soft, sweet folds. His tongue replaced his finger, and he licked her nub, making slow, lazy circles. Her inner thighs quivered, and her moans became louder as she opened her legs wider. When he flicked his tongue hard against her center, she cried out.
His shaft hardened to the point that he could not hold himself back any longer.
Just as he reached down to undo the buttons of his trousers, a knock sounded at the door, startling them both. They paused, breathless and caught off guard.
Beatrice quickly threw on a robe and moved to answer the door. Opening it, she found a young maid standing there, looking slightly flustered.
“Your Grace, I knocked on His Grace’s door, but there was no answer. I assumed he would be with you.”
Kenneth got off the bed, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he walked to the door. “What’s the matter?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
The maid curtsied quickly. “There’s been a small leak in the west wing, Your Grace. The steward sent me to fetch you.”
Kenneth groaned inwardly, the weight of his responsibilities crashing down on him. He glanced at Beatrice, seeing the concern in her eyes.
“I will go with her,” he said, resignation in his tone.
Beatrice stepped forward. “Let me come with you.”
Kenneth shook his head, a small, weary smile on his lips. “I will handle it.”
He left with the maid, feeling a deep sense of frustration and unsatisfied desire.
The walk to the west wing seemed longer than usual, the silence of the castle amplifying his irritation. This was not how he had envisioned their first night together, interrupted by the mundane issues of estate management.
Beatrice awoke the next morning to the soft light of dawn filtering through the heavy curtains of her chamber. The spot beside her was empty, a stark reminder of the night before. She had spent her wedding night alone, her new husband absent due to a leak in the roof of the west wing.
Her thoughts swirled; she knew Kenneth had responsibilities, that the management of an estate was demanding and often unpredictable. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. She had not expected romance or declarations of love, but she had hoped for at least a semblance of companionship on their first night as husband and wife.
She heaved out a sigh of resignation. This was her reality now, and there was no point in dwelling on unmet expectations. If Kenneth was going to be distant, she would find ways to fill the void herself. She would focus on her duties as Duchess, immerse herself in her art, and carve out a life independent of her husband.
I must make the best of this.If I am to find happiness, it will be on my own terms.
With a sigh, she pushed herself out of bed and rang for Anna. Moments later, the maid entered, her expression bright and eager to please.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Anna said cheerfully. “Shall I help you dress?”
“Yes, please, Anna,” Beatrice replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm.
As Anna helped her into a soft rose-colored gown, the fabric cool against her skin, she relayed some news. “The Duke has gone out early to check on things around the estate, Your Grace. He seemed quite busy.”
Beatrice’s heart sank slightly, but she managed a nod. “Thank you, Anna.”
Once dressed, Beatrice made her way to the dining room. The long table was set for breakfast, but she found herself alone. A servant brought in a tray of food—freshly baked bread, butter, jam, and a selection of fruits. She picked at her meal, her thoughts drifting back to Kenneth.
Why didn’t he come back?
Was it truly the leak that kept him away, or was he avoiding her? She shook her head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. Kenneth was a practical man; his priorities were the estate and its well-being. She needed to be patient and understanding, even if it meant enduring some loneliness.
Determined not to let the day go to waste, Beatrice decided to throw herself into her duties as Duchess. She rang for thehousekeeper, who arrived promptly, her demeanor efficient and welcoming.
“Good morning, Your Grace. How may I assist you today?” Mrs. Whitfield asked.
“Good morning, Mrs. Whitfield,” Beatrice replied. “I would like to familiarize myself with the household and my responsibilities. Could you show me what needs attention?”
