The Tyrant's Wife

Chapter 341 [Bonus chapter] Honeymoon (3)

Her legs were already parted in the invitation. He held her by her thighs and pushed into her hard. It was already torturous enough that she was so horny and ready for it. When he felt how wet she was, it took all his willpower to not pound into her as hard as he wanted to.

She was grasping a handful of the bedsheet beneath her. "I'm not made of glass, Desmond. Fuck me hard." She demanded.

He didn't need to ask if she could take it. He sped up, thrusting his hips harder and faster until all that could be heard was the sounds of their skins slapping against each other and the slamming of the bed against the wall. He was certain they would need to refill a dent in the wall before they left but he didn't care. Neither of them did.

He reached between her legs, rubbing her sensitive spot in time with his thrusts. Her toes curled and he knew from the drawled-out moan that left her lips that she was close.

"Where do you want me?" He asked, feeling his balls tighten.

"Inside me."

That was all it took.

She came first, crying his name out in ecstasy. Her walls clenched around his cock, squeezing the orgasm out of him.

"Fuck…" he groaned as he climaxed inside her, grasping her thigh so hard that he thought she would bruise.

She collapsed against a pillow, all spent and tired, and vaguely felt him cleaning them up before sliding into bed behind her.

"You barely ate." He reminded her. They had not eaten more than a few bites before they ditched their food in favor of something better.

"We can warm it up in a bit." She closed her eyes when she felt him run his finger against her naked boob. "That feels good."

They warmed up their food after resting for a bit, then they decided to eat it on the balcony, watching the stars. Needless to say, the food was not the only thing that ended up being eaten. She kept rubbing up against him like the little tease she was, so he ended up having her on the lounge chair before carrying her back to their bedroom while she nuzzled against his neck.

By the time he put her in bed, she had long fallen asleep from all the orgasms he drew out of her as punishment for teasing him. Though he had to thank her raging hormones. He swept her hair off her face and kissed her temples. "Goodnight, wife."

______

The following day, she once again woke up to an empty bed, a waft of the aroma of coffee, and her husband looking like a delicious snack. He was standing by the window, talking on the phone with his bare back to her. She couldn't help licking her lips at his back muscles. Maybe she was just horny as fuck or Desmond's body had been personally carved out by the gods themselves.

Whichever case it was, she wanted to touch him, so she climbed off the bed and crossed over to him to wrap her arms around him.

"Miss me already?" he teased, pecking her lips.

"What are you talking about? There are a million handsome men in Ciel. As if I would miss you." Although that's what she said, she was clinging to him with no intention of letting go.

"Then you better have your breakfast soon so we can go out and meet some of these handsome men."

She was confused. "Do we have anything scheduled today? I thought today we would simply stay here and relax all day."

"We will do that for most of the day." He elaborated, kissing her again. "We can enjoy the hotel's services and take advantage of the weather to swim. But I do have something else planned before that. It will not take long, I promise."

She nodded. Not that she would mind going anywhere with him.

Once again, he was determined to make it a surprise. No matter how much she begged him to tell her, he simply threw her that wicked smile and told her to wait and see. Well, there was no other choice.

So she took a shower, changed into a comfortable dress, and followed him to wherever he planned to take them.

_____

"A photo studio?"

This was not anywhere near the kind of guesses she had made regarding his surprise. In fact, she had not even realized it was anything of the sort until she saw the pictures on the wall. But when they entered the studio, she realized it was no studio. It was an art gallery with cameras and a booth.

"Uhm, is it a photo studio or a gallery?" she asked him in a whisper.

"Yes." Was his response.

She didn't need to guess for too long. A woman came over to greet them and welcome them. "Mr. And Mrs. Fort?" She asked.

"That's us," Desmond responded, and she could swear she heard a hint of pride in his voice. As though being referred to as Mr. and Mrs. Fort made him happy. She could understand him, she felt the same way.

The woman checked something on her iPad and flashed them a smile. "Brilliant. The artist is ready for you. This way, please."

She followed the woman and Desmond to an enclosed section, wondering if this was a wedding photoshoot. They had already done one but what was the harm in another? Besides, the woman had said 'artist' not 'photographer'. Maybe this time he wanted a wedding painting.

When they got to the private section, the artist was standing in front of an easel with a humongous canvas propped on it. Desmond finally satisfied her curiosity.

"Are you ready for your first maternity painting?"

Her jaw dropped. Just when she thought he couldn't surprise her anymore, he was doing it again.

"How did you know I wanted one?" Was the first question she asked.

"You had all these pins saved and they had one thing in common." He answered vaguely, once again not revealing everything.

"I'll help you get changed, Mrs. Fort." The woman from earlier showed her to a changing room.

Desmond had already selected a dress for her—an ocean-blue tulle gown almost identical to her wedding gown, but with an open bodice that exposed her baby bump. It was paired with a floral tiara and when she caught her reflection in the mirror, she was on the verge of emotional tears. This was exactly like the dream maternity photoshoot she had envisioned. And how the hell did Desmond know she wanted a painting instead of pictures?

She was too happy to dwell on the details. She came out of the changing room and was awed when she saw Desmond was wearing a shirt of the same color as her dress.

For the painting, they posed with him on one knee, kissing her bump, and her hand rested on it. As if the baby wanted to be a part of the painting in more ways than one, it chose that moment to kick and she was certain this would be the most treasured painting of their lives.

"Would you like to change into something else for your photoshoot?" The woman asked them once the artist had taken a sketch of them.

"Photoshoot?" She asked. She didn't know they were having one as well.

"We will have that one in Imperium. Just tell me where your Imperium gallery is located." He asked, and the woman gave him a business card with the address.

On their way back to the hotel, she couldn't help asking about his earlier statement. "When you say 'first maternity painting', did you mean there will be another in the next few months or…do you have other plans?"

In response, he placed a hand on her belly. "I can't have enough of seeing you like this. If you don't mind, of course."

She had never thought about it, so she guessed she would have to wing it.

They spent the rest of the day swimming, taking a short walk, and watching another movie which ended up in bed. Then she picked up her phone to play some music and realized she had not charged it. She plugged it in and powered it, her breath catching at the number of voicemails and text messages that came flooding in.

They were all from Natalie, and that made it all worse. She took a deep breath to assure herself nothing was wrong, even though her heart was on the verge of jumping out of her chest. She willed herself to calm down and dialed Natalie's number.

"Nat, you…"

"Zaria," Natalie sobbed into the phone. "Rosaly went missing."