Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 175 - Hundred And Seventy Five

The last crumb of bread was gone. The silver tray sat empty on the corner of the heavy oak desk, a testament to their shared hunger.

Carcel wiped a small smudge of sauce from the corner of Ines’s lip with his thumb. His touch was gentle, lingering for a moment on her soft skin.

"Better?" he asked softly.

"Much better," Ines replied, leaning into his hand. "I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started eating."

"Same here," Carcel said.

He shifted slightly in the chair. Ines made to stand up, thinking he wanted to return to his work, but he held her waist firmly, keeping her on his lap.

"Not yet," he murmured. "I have something for you."

Ines tilted her head. "Something else? I thought the cheese was the surprise."

Carcel chuckled. He reached into the inside pocket of his discarded coat, which hung over the back of the chair. He pulled out a small, flat envelope made of thick, expensive parchment.

He placed it in her hands.

"Open it," he urged.

Ines broke the wax seal. She pulled out two rectangular pieces of paper. They were printed with elegant scrollwork and official stamps.

She squinted in the dim lamplight to read the text.

Royal Star Line. Passage to Calais.

Ines’s eyes widened. She looked up at him, her mouth forming a perfect ’O’.

"We are going to France?" She asked, her voice rising with excitement.

She looked at the ticket and read it again, tracing the letters with her fingertip to make sure she wasn’t imagining it.

"By sea?" she asked, looking at the ship’s name. The Neptune.

Carcel nodded. He looked pleased with himself.

"For our honeymoon," he explained. "I know we didn’t have time for a proper trip after the wedding because of my duties here. But I have cleared my schedule starting next week."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I have already sent word to the housekeeper at the manor in Provence to inform her of our arrival," Carcel continued. "It is a small estate near the coast. There are lavender fields, vineyards,everything I told you about the last time during our discussions in your garden. We will be traveling next week."

Ines felt a surge of pure joy. France. A place of romance, art, and new stories. And best of all, a place where she wouldn’t need a charpone because Carcel is now her husband.

Ines hugged Carcel. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Oh, Carcel, thank you."

Carcel hugged her back. He squeezed her tight, closing his eyes. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the tension of the long day finally drain away completely.

"I wanted to give you the world," he mumbled into her hair. "But for now, France will have to do."

Ines pulled back slightly so she could look at him. Her eyes were shining.

"I’m so happy," she spoke.

Carcel looked at her beaming face. The exhaustion in his eyes was replaced by a familiar spark. It was playful, affectionate, and heated.

He gave a mischievous smile. The corner of his mouth ticked up.

"Do I get a reward for making you happy?" he asked. His voice dropped an octave, becoming low and husky.

Ines smiled. She understood the look in his eyes perfectly.

She leaned in and kissed him. It was a sweet kiss at first, tasting of wine and gratitude, but it quickly deepened. She nipped at his lower lip, teasing him.

Then, she pulled away.

She didn’t say a word. She simply slid off his lap.

Carcel watched her, confused. He thought she was leaving to go to bed.

But Ines didn’t even walk to the door. Instead, she lowered herself to the floor.

She knelt between his legs.

The thick rug cushioned her knees. She looked up at him. The lamplight cast shadows across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline and his surprised expression.

"Ines?" he asked, looking at her, surprised. "What are you doing? The floor is cold."

Ines didn’t answer. She reached out. Her hands landed on the waistband of his trousers.

She began to work on the buttons.

Carcel’s breath hitched. He looked down at her nimble fingers.

Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind. He remembered the library in the Hamilto mansion. He remembered her frantic, clumsy attempts to free him then. He remembered how she had pulled so hard she had popped a button off, ruining his trousers.

She wasn’t clumsy now.

Ines undid his buttons with expert precision. She was focused, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

She freed him. He sprang out, hard and heavy, twitching with anticipation.

Ines looked at him. She didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward.

She opened her mouth and took him in.

"Oh, God," Carcel groaned. His head fell back against the leather chair. His hands gripped the armrests so hard his knuckles turned white.

She has already taken half his length into her mouth. She was warm. She was wet. She moved with a rhythm that made his vision blur.

She sucked him, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head.

Carcel looked down. It was an incredibly erotic sight. His wife, the Duchess, kneeling in his study, surrounded by stacks of boring tax reports, worshipping him.

He felt the pressure building in his lower belly. It was rising fast, too fast. He had already spent himself earlier in the day, but her touch ignited a new fire that burned even hotter.

"Ines," he gasped. "Ines, wait! Wait!"

He tried to pull back slightly. He wanted to last. He wanted to savor this.

But she wasn’t listening.

She went faster. She bobbed her head, taking more of him, making wet, needy noises that drove him insane.

Then, she added something else.

Her hand moved down to her own body. She hiked up her nightgown. She touched herself.

She started using her fingers on her center.

Carcel watched. He saw her hand moving. He heard her soft whimpers mixing with the sounds of her mouth on him.

It was too much. The visual, the sensation, the sound. It broke his control completely.

Carcel was gone. His rational mind shut down.

His eyes rolled back, blinded by pleasure. He couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t be gentle. The need to claim her, to be inside her, to finish this properly overwhelmed him.

Feeling himself unraveling, he moved.

"Enough," he growled.

He reached down. He grabbed Ines up from the floor. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing.

She gasped as the world spun.

He turned her around. He looked at the desk. It was covered in papers, ledgers, and the inkwell.

He didn’t care.

He swept his arm across the surface.

Crash!

The ledger hit the floor. The papers fluttered into the air like white confetti. The inkwell wobbled but stayed put.

He cleared his desk in one violent motion.

He bent her down over the hard wood.

"Carcel!" Ines cried out, surprised by the sudden aggression.

But it wasn’t a cry of fear. It was a cry of excitement.

He didn’t wait. He stepped behind her. He hiked her nightgown up to her waist. He didn’t bother with preparation. She was already wet, ready for him.

He lined himself up and thrust forward.

He pounded her like an animal.

It wasn’t slow lovemaking. It was raw. It was primal. It was the kind of sex that happened when words weren’t enough.

The desk creaked under their combined weight. Carcel gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, leaving marks that would match the ones on her neck.

"Oh, God! Ines," he gritted out. "Yes."

Ines moaned loudly. Her head rested on her arms on the desk. She felt filled. She felt stretched.

She enjoyed the feeling of him stretching her. Every thrust hit a deep spot inside her. She pushed back against him, meeting his force with her own.

"Harder," she begged. "Carcel, harder."

He obeyed. He drove into her, losing himself in the friction and the heat.

They were a tangle of limbs and gasps in the dim light. The shadows danced on the walls, mimicking their frantic rhythm.

Carcel felt the wave rising. It was a tsunami.

"I’m at the edge," he roared. "Ines!"

"Carcel!" she screamed.

They both rode the waves of pleasure. Her walls clamped down around him, milking him. He pulsed inside her, pouring everything he had into her.

They came together, their cries mixing in the silent house.

Carcel slumped forward. He rested his weight on her back, his heavy breathing filling the room. He buried his face in her neck, kissing the damp skin.

Ines trembled underneath him. Her legs felt like jelly. She couldn’t stand.

"Wow," she whispered breathlessly.

Carcel chuckled. It was a weak, exhausted sound.

He pulled out slowly. He fixed her nightgown, smoothing the fabric down over her hips.

He turned her around. He kissed her forehead.

"You," he said, breathless, "are dangerous. Very dangerous."

Ines smiled weakly. She leaned against the desk for support.

Carcel looked at the mess on the floor. The ledger lay open, pages crumpled.

"Lloyd will have a heart attack in the morning," Carcel muttered.

"Leave it," Ines said.

"I intend to," Carcel agreed.

Feeling weak, his legs shaking slightly, Carcel scooped Ines up into his arms.

He carried Ines to the room.

He walked down the dark hallway, ignoring the open doors, ignoring the unlit lamps. He kicked the bedroom door open and walked to the bed.

He placed her gently on the mattress. She curled up immediately, pulling the duvet up to her chin.

Carcel stripped off his trousers and shirt, leaving them in a pile on the floor to join the rest of the mess.

He climbed in beside her. He pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"The ledger..." Ines mumbled sleepily.

"I’ll attend to it tomorrow," Carcel whispered. "I have a whole week to attend to all of them."

He kissed her hair.