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positivegvfthings · 1 year ago

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Omfg I am in love with this already

How to Fall in Love in Ten Days

*New Series*

18+ Story.

A/n: Here we are! Day one of ‘How to Fall in Love in Ten Days’. I guess I should make it clear that I will not be posting this over the course of ten days (I totally would if I could), but nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoy this story half as much as I enjoy(ed) writing it. As always, let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this story.

This one is for my Bridgerton girlies!! 🥳

Content Warnings: Arranged marriage, estranged family relationships, asshole Danny, sexual tension… 👀

Word Count: 7k

Day One: The Wedding

Picturesque views of the English countryside unfurled before you as you sat across from your mother in the modestly appointed carriage, your gaze fixed resolutely out the window. You could feel her eyes upon you, silently willing you to break your trance and meet her gaze, that she might speak with you. Yet you refused to grant her that satisfaction.

There was a time when you trusted your mother above all others. She was your dearest confidante, and you considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to enjoy such a relationship with both of your parents.

But the woman seated opposite you was no longer a confidante; she felt like a stranger, and this estrangement wounded you more deeply than you could express.

The predicament in which you found yourself was the result of a series of unfortunate events that began with the untimely death of your father, the Viscount. His sudden passing shook your family to its core, occurring just before your first season in society.

The loss of your father had shattered you, and rather than making your debut and seeking a suitable match, you retreated into yourself, cloistering away in the family home.

Your eldest brother, now the head of the family estate, busied himself for years ensuring the longevity of his inheritance. At length, he determined it was time to take a bride of his own.

This decision placed you in a precarious position. Now at twenty two years, unwed, and residing with your brother, you had believed you would be permitted to remain with him, his wife, and your mother indefinitely. However, upon his return from his honeymoon, he summoned you and your mother to your father’s old study for a discussion.

“Sister, there is no delicate way to convey this, so I shall speak plainly. I have arranged for your marriage.”

At first, you believed it to be a jest, but the expression on your mother’s face, her avoidance of your gaze, caused a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What? Surely, you cannot be serious?” Your voice rose as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Darling,” your mother attempted to soothe, reaching out to you, but your brother silenced her with a gesture. You had noticed how much colder he had become since the passing of your father.

“No, Mother,” he interjected, his stern gaze fixed upon you. “I am entirely serious. I have permitted you to remain here far beyond what is proper. I have allowed you to forgo season after season, cloistering yourself away under the guise of mourning, but this can no longer continue. Upon Father’s death, I assumed the responsibility of this estate, ensuring the continuation of our family name with honor, and I have done so diligently. However, you failed to recognize your own duty. That duty was to enter society, secure a marriage, and establish a family of your own.”

You longed to shout back at him in protest, but you knew he was right. Moreover, his verbal assault continued before you could formulate a response.

“You should consider yourself fortunate that I was able to secure a gentleman, of high rank, I might add, who was willing to take your hand. Given that you are past the prime marrying age, it was no easy task.”

Once again, his words cut deeply. You glanced at your mother, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze fixed downward. Her posture conveyed that this arrangement was final. There would be no arguing; the decision was irrevocable.

Tears stung at the back of your eyes as you redirected your gaze to your older brother. “Who is he?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Your brother shifted on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “Daniel Wagner, the Duke of Sterling.”

At the mention of the name, the hairs on your arms stood on end. Of all the names he could have uttered, this was the least expected.

You knew of the Duke well. Both of you had moved within the same circles of high society, though those encounters were over ten years past.

When Daniel turned thirteen, he too found himself fatherless. Yet, unlike you, Daniel was much younger and, being the sole heir of his father’s lineage, was thrust into his role prematurely.

His childhood was abruptly stolen from him, and he became a figure shrouded in mystery, rarely seen except on the rarest of occasions.

But now, as you stood statuesque before your only living family members—the very ones willing to dispatch you so readily after all you had endured together—you realized that you would soon become intimately acquainted with the man the Duke had become over the last fifteen years.

To twist the knife further, your brother spoke once more. “This is final. We shall commence our journey in two weeks’ time.”

You glanced at your mother again, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. A million protests surged within you, some scarcely ladylike, yet none would alter your fate.

You turned on your heel without another word, choosing to bestow upon your brother the harshest form of reprimand: a resolute silence. And silent you remained.

Not a word had been spoken to him in the fortnight since that fateful conversation. Your mother managed to coax a few words from you, but not a syllable was afforded to your brother.

Initially, he feigned indifference to your silent protest, but as the second week commenced, it became evident that he found the charade increasingly intolerable.

Unable to restrain herself any longer, your mother finally spoke, her voice hesitant since the carriage had begun its journey. “Are you quite alright?”

Slowly, you brought your gaze to meet hers, and it was clear she regretted her inquiry.

“Did you truly just ask me that?”

She seemed exasperated, yet not entirely surprised by your coldness. Instead, she persisted.

“You must endeavor to be a bit more optimistic, my dear,” she sighed. “You shall be comfortable and well cared for as his wife. Moreover, Daniel is a handsome man; you could fare far worse.”

You regarded her a moment longer before turning your gaze back to the passing countryside.

“He is a stranger, Mother.”

“He is no stranger. You know him.”

“Having attended a few of the same balls over a decade ago does not constitute knowing him.”

Your flippant tone caused your mother to retreat into silence, and under any other circumstances, you might have felt remorse for it.

After a moment’s pause, she spoke once more.

“Regardless of your feelings, this union is to take place. Rather than resisting, you must strive to make the best of the situation. Many marriages within society did not begin as love matches, yet over time, the couples managed to cultivate a harmonious union. I believe that if you permit it, his Grace shall bring you happiness. My dear,” she implored, ensuring you met her gaze, “you will be happy.”

It was evident she was commanding rather than assuring you. Her unspoken message was clear: ‘If you are not happy, you must feign contentment.’

You wished to hear no more of this discussion, and so you returned your attention to the window.

Happiness seemed an unattainable notion at this moment, and you feared it might forever elude you.

The journey extended for another hour before the first glimpses of your new abode came into view.

Sterling House emerged from the rolling landscape like a grandiose vision of bygone splendor. The imposing manor, constructed of gleaming white stone, stood majestically amidst verdant lawns that stretched out in all directions. Tall, elegant windows adorned the façade, their glass panes catching the light of the midday sun and reflecting it in a dazzling array of prisms.

A gravel drive curved gracefully toward the entrance, lined with meticulously trimmed hedges and vibrant flowerbeds in full bloom. Ancient oak trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze, framed the stately house, their leaves whispering secrets of centuries past. To the left, an ornate fountain played host to a dance of water, its crystalline droplets sparkling like diamonds.

As the carriage drew closer, the full grandeur of Sterling House became apparent. Its towering columns and intricate stonework spoke of a legacy steeped in history and prestige. The air was thick with the scent of roses and freshly cut grass, mingling with the faint sound of music drifting from within the house, hinting at the celebrations to come.

Colorful banners fluttered from the windows, and garlands of pastel blue flowers, the hue of a summer sky, adorned the entrance and the balustrades. The estate grounds were a flurry of activity, with staff hurrying to and fro all in preparation for the wedding—your wedding. As the carriage drew to a halt, a wave of dread settled in your stomach.

When the carriage door opened, you hesitated, casting a longing glance back at your mother, hoping against hope that she might yet take your side and call off this entire affair. You could return home and pretend none of this had transpired.

But alas, her nod signaled the end of your hope. You had no choice but to accept the footman’s hand and step into your fate.

As you alighted, you were greeted by your brother and his wife, already standing outside the carriage. They both smiled warmly at you, but you offered no such gesture in return.

The grounds were abuzz with activity; some attendants were carrying grand decorations and arrangements of pastel blue flowers, while others, empty-handed, moved with equal haste. The staff of Sterling House lined the staircase to the entryway, all eager to catch a glimpse of the new lady of the house.

Your brother approached with his wife still on his arm. “Is it not a beautiful house, sister? I believe it is as good a place as any to spend your days.” Though he may have been attempting to lighten the mood, your animosity toward him remained unwavering, and you resolved to maintain your silent treatment.

The look you bestowed upon him was far from pleasant before your gaze shifted to his wife. As much as you wished to harbor some animosity toward her, you simply could not. As far as you knew, she was but a girl who found herself in a situation much like your own.

Her expression suggested she wanted to speak, perhaps to offer some words of encouragement. However, in her role as the dutiful wife, she knew better than to say anything that might inadvertently contradict your brother.

Finally, you turned and began to ascend the staircase. Those who had been bustling about now stood still, allowing the house to properly receive its new lady.

As you began your ascent, the main housekeeper appeared at the top of the staircase—a dark-featured woman in her mid-forties, with deep smile lines etching her face. She seemed friendly enough, but you would miss your housekeeper from home, who had been a significant part of your upbringing and one of the few people you considered a friend.

Your brother had refused to let her accompany you, insisting he needed her for his new wife.

“Miss,” the new housekeeper spoke, offering a respectful bow, “it is most wonderful to make your acquaintance. My name is Roselyn, your housekeeper.”

Feeling shy, you managed only a nervous smile, acutely aware of the eyes of the assembled staff upon you.

“As much as I would love to provide a formal introduction to Sterling House, we are rather behind on wedding preparations.” Though she sounded apologetic, she had a duty to perform and a schedule to keep. She stepped aside, extending her hand towards the interior of the expansive home. “Shall we?”

It seemed like an invitation, as if you had a choice. Yet, as you were gently ushered inside without giving your answer, it became clear that individuality was a luxury you could not presently afford.

As you followed your new housekeeper inside, you stole one last glance back at your family, your mother’s worried face the last thing you saw before you were swept away for nuptial preparations.

After what felt like an eternity of primping, you now found yourself alone in the chamber that you assumed would be yours henceforth. Your lady's maids had labored tirelessly to ready you, while other servants came in rounds, bringing your belongings and arranging them with meticulous care.

You had been scrubbed clean, your face adorned with the lightest touch of flattering cosmetics, and not a hair on your head was out of place. Now, with merely an hour remaining before the commencement of the wedding, you awaited their return with your bridal gown, the garment that would usher you down the aisle to a stranger and irrevocably seal your fate.

Crossing over to the expansive window that offered a view of the courtyard, you observed the guests making their way through the corridors towards the estate's chapel. All these people gathered to witness your marriage, yet none truly knew you; nor did you know them. You wondered if they were acquainted with the Duke or if they were as ignorant of him as you were.

You had attempted to inquire discreetly of the staff about the Duke and his guests, but they offered little in the way of enlightenment. Obedient in their duties, they spoke in guarded tones, leaving you to hope in vain for a whisper of what awaited you in this new chapter of your life.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another room connected to the opposite end of the balcony, some twenty feet away. An idea sparked in your mind; having been whisked away so swiftly that you hardly had a chance to see your new home, you resolved in one final act of defiance to use that room as a means to wander the halls of Sterling House and explore for yourself.

Clad in your long white robe and barefoot, you stepped onto the balcony and scurried across to the other side. You prayed that, firstly, no one below would see you; secondly, that the door from the balcony would be unlocked; and thirdly, that there would be no one waiting on the other side.

To your pleasure, the door gave when you twisted the handle, and you swiftly shut it behind you, pressing your back against it as you inspected the room.

The chamber appeared untouched for a long time. It was rather stuffy, and not a single item was out of place. A thin layer of dust coated some of the furniture, though its sparseness suggested that someone came in at least once a month to clean.

You looked around briefly, but your mind was set on making it to the hopefully empty hallway. The door was locked from the inside, and you carefully unlatched it, peeking your head into the corridor.

Silence. Emptiness. A grin spread across your face as you stepped out, swiveling your head to decide which direction to take.

The hallway to your right seemed to lead further into the heart of the home, and you deemed it the most prudent choice. Your pace was brisk as you ventured deeper into the house, glancing over your shoulder to ensure your clandestine exploration went unnoticed.

Just as you were about to round a corner, you collided with a figure—someone taller and far less clumsy than yourself.

You stumbled backwards, but the person caught you before you had a chance to fall. Steadying yourself, you looked up to apologize, but were taken aback to see your future husband standing before you as plain as day.

Though it had been fifteen years since you’d seen him up close, his broad and regal features made him unmistakable.

"The nose of royalty," you remembered overhearing someone say about him one day. And you had to agree, the Duke possessed one of those faces that bespoke his high rank.

A truly handsome man indeed.

You stared at him far longer than propriety allowed, taking in all that he was as he eyed you curiously. You noticed he was dressed in an outfit for a wedding. His white and pastel blue attire matched the decorations you’d seen being carried in earlier. It was suitable attire, and you found yourself under an inexplicable allure by his appearance alone.

Finally snapping back to reality, you dipped into a curtsey, “Your Grace,” you spoke softly, unsure of what else to say to him.

When you dared to look at him again, his gaze remained fixed upon you, inscrutable and unnerving. The weight of his stare made you increasingly nervous, your heart quickening under his intimidating scrutiny.

Worry gnawed at you, fearing you had transgressed by wandering unaccompanied through his home, though it would soon be your own as well. Did he even recognize you? Had he bothered to acquaint himself with his future bride?

As the tension grew unbearable, the Duke finally broke the oppressive silence.

"I don't believe I am supposed to be seeing you at this moment."

His words were peculiar, yet they dispelled the doubts swirling in your mind.

You observed as he cast a discreet glance over you, from head to toe and back again, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts.

Just as you gathered your composure to reply, a woman's voice interrupted from behind you.

"Miss!"

You started at the exclamation, turning to find your housekeeper, Roslyn, approaching with haste. "There you are."

This fleeting moment with Daniel, perhaps your only one before the wedding, had been abruptly spoiled. You glanced back at him, only to see him retreating down the corridor. A door closed softly, marking his departure, as Roslyn arrived by your side, her demeanor frazzled and her expression slightly annoyed at your disappearance.

"I've been searching everywhere for you," she said, glancing around the corner to see what had captured your attention, quickly dismissing it when she found nothing amiss.

She gently but firmly began to steer you back towards your room. Initially resistant, you eventually allowed her to guide you, still reeling from your unexpected encounter with the Duke.

"We must get you into your gown," Roslyn urged, her tone both brisk and concerned. "The ceremony is soon to commence."

The wedding ceremony of a Duke, particularly one held at his own estate, was an affair of both grandeur and intimacy. At Sterling House, the nuptials were to be celebrated in the estate’s private chapel, a small yet exquisitely adorned sanctuary that had borne witness to many a family milestone over the decades. The chapel, with its high, arched windows and delicate stained glass, cast a serene, colorful light over the proceedings. Its walls were lined with centuries-old tapestries, and the air carried the faint scent of polished wood and candle wax.

Your heart thrummed in your ears as you stood outside the chapel doors, arm in arm with your brother. You longed to tear yourself away from him, to berate him one final time for upending your life, but the presence of your future staff dissuaded you from causing a scene. You did not wish to begin your new life under a cloud of impropriety.

Instead, you stood silently, staring at the doors before you, counting to one hundred in your head and then back down again.

Your brother turned to you with a grin. "You know, you do make a beautiful bride, sister."

Your look was chilling as you turned to face him, causing his smile to falter and his eyes to widen slightly as you spoke your first words to him in two weeks.

"You had best hope that this marriage brings far more promise than its ill-begotten beginning," you hissed, your voice low and icy. "Should I be consigned to misery because of your haste in removing me from our home, I shall never forgive you. My name will become a distant memory, and should I bear children, they will never know of the existence of their uncle."

Your brother was struck silent, the weight of your words sinking in, heard only by the two of you.

The doors to the chapel swung open, revealing the flower-adorned aisle at the end of which Daniel awaited. You cast a final, meaningful glance at your brother before turning your gaze to Daniel, cementing the gravity of the words you had just spoken. The organ began to play, its gothic notes resonating through the vaulted ceilings of the chapel. With a steadying breath, you and your brother stepped forward, both sets of eyes fixed on the figure awaiting you at the altar.

Daniel stood statuesque, his expression inscrutable as he watched your approach. He wore a coat he had not been wearing earlier, completing his already impeccable appearance. As you glanced to your left and right, you observed the guests whispering amongst themselves, their eyes darting between you and the dashing Duke they so rarely had the chance to behold. You longed to hear their murmurs, but the organist’s fervent playing drowned out their words.

Reaching the front of the chapel, you turned your gaze to your mother, whose conflicted emotions were evident in her strained smile. It failed to reach her eyes, and for a brief moment, your heart ached with the weight of her silent distress.

The ceremony proceeded with the solemnity befitting such an occasion. The officiant’s voice rose and fell with practiced cadence as he recited the sacred vows. The rich timbre of his voice filled the chapel, reverberating off the stone walls. You felt a surreal detachment, as if you were watching someone else’s life unfold before you. Daniel’s responses were measured and clear, his voice steady as he pledged himself to you.

When it came your turn to speak, your voice wavered ever so slightly, but you managed to recite your vows with a semblance of composure. Each word felt like a link in the chain binding you to this new fate, an inescapable future that you could only hope would bring some measure of contentment. You glanced at Daniel’s face, hoping for a sign of reassurance, but his expression remained an enigma.

As the rings were exchanged, the cool metal of the band slid onto your finger, a tangible symbol of your new union. You felt the weight of the moment, the finality of it settling in your chest. The officiant’s final words echoed in your mind, and before you knew it, the ceremony was concluded. Daniel leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips, a gesture that felt both foreign and obligatory. However, the brief touch did send a shiver down your spine, and you wondered if he felt the same electric charge.

The guests rose to their feet, applauding politely as you and Daniel turned to face them as husband and wife. The organ swelled once more, guiding you back down the aisle. Your mind raced with thoughts of the future, uncertain and daunting, but as you walked beside your new husband, you resolved to face whatever came your way with as much grace and fortitude as you could muster.

The attendance at the reception was thrice what it had been at the ceremony. As you entered the ballroom, the multitude of gazes upon you sent a wave of panic through your veins. All of society seemed to be present, none wishing to miss the opportunity to glimpse the elusive Duke and his new bride.

The ballroom of Sterling House was a spectacle of opulence, befitting the illustrious occasion. Upon entering, guests were greeted by the radiant glow of crystal chandeliers suspended from the lofty, gilded ceiling. Each chandelier sparkled with countless hand-cut crystals, casting a soft, enchanting light over the room.

The polished parquet floor, laid out in an intricate geometric pattern, gleamed underfoot, reflecting the golden hues of the chandeliers above. Elegant sconces held flickering candles around the room, their gentle flames contributing to the overall glow and creating a sense of intimacy amidst the grandeur.

At one end of the ballroom, a grand marble fireplace stood, its mantelpiece adorned with an array of fresh flowers in soft pastel hues, echoing the floral arrangements that adorned the tables throughout the room. Each table was covered in crisp white linen and set with fine china, sparkling crystal, and polished silverware.

“I present to you the newlyweds, the Duke and his new Duchess of Sterling.”

The sea of people parted as you and Daniel descended the grand staircase into the ballroom. The guests’ eyes, bright with curiosity and admiration, followed your every step. The opulence of the room and the significance of the occasion were almost overwhelming, yet you carried yourself with a grace befitting your new station.

Daniel led you to the center of the dance floor, where the guests stood expectantly, awaiting the commencement of your first dance.

You had long been reputed to possess two left feet, and you fervently hoped that the dance lessons of the past weeks would suffice to prevent any missteps and spare you from public embarrassment.

As the music began to play, Daniel took the lead, guiding you across the dance floor with effortless grace. Admittedly, his assured lead offered you a modicum of confidence, yet the relentless scrutiny of the onlookers was unnerving. Even your mother's gaze was disconcerting; it was as though she were picking apart every movement, desperately seeking evidence of chemistry, hoping for the emergence of sparks.

"Do you know all of these people?" you inquired with a touch of playful sarcasm, endeavoring to spark conversation and ease the nervous tension that gripped you.

"Of them, most, anyway," he replied, his tone flat and offering nothing more.

You could not help but notice that everything Daniel said and did seemed rehearsed and polished, as though he were adhering to an invisible rule book.

You chuckled softly at his response, uncertain how to interpret it. Glancing around the room, you observed, "they all seem quite invested."

At first, he did not reply. When he finally looked at you again, his gaze was distant.

"I beg your pardon. What was it you said?"

It became clear to you then that Daniel's thoughts were elsewhere. He conveyed the impression that he would rather be anywhere but here.

You could hardly blame him; you had no desire to be there either. Yet his apparent lack of effort to make the best of the situation was disheartening. Even his hold on you felt rigid and mechanical.

"Nothing," you replied meekly.

He seemed satisfied with your response and pressed no further, leaving you to navigate the dance in an uneasy silence.

Once the dance concluded, the remainder of the evening passed in a blur. You graciously accepted an overwhelming number of congratulations, one young lady even going so far as to remark upon how fortunate you were to be wed to the Duke. You did not feel fortunate; indeed, you felt quite the opposite. It did not escape your notice how Daniel seemed to avoid your presence, engaging instead with various gentlemen about matters undoubtedly unrelated to your nuptials.

In the midst of a crowded room, you felt profoundly alone. Even your own family members were too preoccupied to offer the company you so desperately needed. As the guests began to depart, you took your place on the steps of Sterling House, bidding them farewell as a proper Duchess should. Daniel, naturally, was otherwise engaged, standing a few feet away in earnest conversation with his private secretary regarding some pressing matter.

Your mother was the first to approach you, her smile as unwavering as ever, though never quite reaching her eyes. "You were regal tonight, my dear—a true vision of all a Duchess should be," she attempted to uplift you, but you were in no mood for such platitudes.

"We shall return in eight days' time for the Sterling Ball," she continued, swiftly changing the subject upon noticing her words were in vain. "Perhaps by then, things will have improved." Both your gazes turned to the Duke, whose attention remained elsewhere, the hopefulness in her voice sounding increasingly like wishful thinking.

"I love you, dearest," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, reminiscent of your childhood, causing your heart to ache all the more.

She descended the steps, followed by your sister-in-law. In a surprising gesture, she took your gloved hands in her own, offering a reassuring squeeze and meeting your eyes with sincere conviction. "It shall be well," she promised. "It shall."

Lastly, your brother approached, hesitantly. He had been wary of you since your sharp words before the ceremony. He paused before you, and your unforgiving glare met his uneasy gaze.

"Despite what you may think, I did this out of love," he began cautiously. "I truly believe this arrangement is what is best for you and our family. Happiness will find you, and if that happiness does not come from your new husband, I believe you are strong and clever enough to discover it in other aspects of your life."

A silence hung between you before you finally spoke. "Goodbye, brother."

Understanding your dismissal, he nodded curtly before joining his wife and your mother in their carriage. You watched as the footmen closed the door, signaling the horses to depart. Your mother blew you one last solemn kiss before they disappeared into the night.

Daniel’s private secretary, whom you had learned was named Sebastian, approached you then. The Duke, meanwhile, swiftly retreated indoors without so much as a glance in your direction. "His Grace has requested that you await his presence in your chambers," Sebastian intoned.

Ah, yes—the wedding night.

Fortunately, in your delay to marry, you had ample opportunity to learn what a wedding night might entail. You had heard a medley of tales, each painting a different picture of what to expect.

“I thought I was in love before…”

“Honestly, I could not wait for it to be over…”

“At first, I feared my marriage was doomed from the start, but our first night together changed everything…”

It was this last declaration to which you decided to cling, hoping it would prove true in your case. As Roslyn escorted you back into your new abode, you fervently wished that perhaps, just perhaps, the night you were about to share with Daniel might bring a glimmer of hope to your union.

"Well, are you not a sight for sore eyes," Roslyn complimented, a grin spreading across her face as she regarded you through the vanity mirror.

She and your lady’s maids had expertly helped you out of your intricate wedding gown before Roslyn took over, assisting you into the beautiful silk nightgown that awaited you. With practiced hands, she unpinned your hair, allowing the large curls, set earlier, to cascade over your shoulders. "The Duke will find it impossible to keep his hands off you when he sees you in this."

You had to admit, you preferred this look over the elaborate fuss of your wedding attire. The nightgown, in the Sterling House's signature shade of baby blue, was adorned with delicate lace flowers embroidered along its trim and down the long train that flowed behind it.

“You know he selected this himself?" Roslyn’s voice held a suggestive tone, brightening your mood.

There it was, a glimmer of hope that tonight might mark a turning point for you and your new husband.

With a final tousle of your curls, Roslyn stepped back to inspect you once more. "Well, I suppose you are all ready, then."

"I do not feel ready," you replied with a nervous laugh. She knew well that you referred not only to the night ahead but to the entirety of the situation you now found yourself in.

Roslyn simpered sympathetically, placing an overworked hand on your shoulder. "I do not believe any young woman in your situation would. I will not lie and say things will be easy, but may I assure you that so long as you dwell here, you will be well taken care of. Should you ever need someone to confide in, I am always here."

Her words brought you the first genuine comfort you had felt in weeks. The smile you gave her was heartfelt, and she seemed pleased.

"Well then," she brightened, "I shall inform the Duke that you are ready."

She made her way to the door, but you stopped her with a call.

"Roslyn," you said softly. When she turned to you again, you offered her a warm smile. "Thank you, for your kindness."

She returned your smile with a maternal warmth. "It is my pleasure, Your Grace."

Once you were alone in the room, you cast one more reassuring glance in the mirror before perching yourself on the edge of the bed, awaiting the Duke’s arrival.

And you waited...

And waited...

By the fortieth minute, worry began to creep in.

By the fiftieth, restlessness took hold.

As the hour passed, you found yourself pacing about the room, struggling to keep anger at bay.

Finally, before your tumultuous thoughts could overwhelm you, Daniel entered the room briskly, tugging at his necktie, still not sparing you a glance.

"Alright, let us get on with this."

You stared at him in disbelief as he tossed his necktie onto your vanity stool and began working at the buttons of his shirt.

"Do you jest?"

Daniel froze in perplexed confusion, his thick eyebrows furrowing as he finally looked your way. "What seems to be the matter?"

You scoffed, feeling the anger you had been trying to suppress welling up inside you.

"You leave me waiting here for an hour, and all you have to say when you arrive is 'let us get on with this' whilst you undress yourself?"

Daniel turned to give you his full attention. "Has it really been an hour?"

As you narrowed your eyes at him, he straightened up, removing his hand from his shirt, and took a deep breath. "It appears I have upset you. I assure you, that was not my intention, and I apologize for keeping you waiting. Now," he gestured towards the bed, "shall we?"

There it was, those carefully calculated and practiced words.

“Your Grace,” your voice rose an octave, disbelief coloring your tone at his insufferable behavior. You took a moment to compose yourself, then continued more evenly, “it is apparent that this union is an uncomfortable adjustment for both of us. But if we are ever to find happiness as husband and wife, we cannot continue in this manner.”

You tried to take your mother’s advice and remain optimistic, but his uncomprehending stare made it difficult.

Daniel regarded you for a moment before letting out a derisive laugh. “I did not know you were so eager to partake in the consummation of our marriage. Most women are not as keen.”

Your composure dwindled with each passing second, wearied by the charade. “It is not about consummating, I assure you. This night is meant to help us adjust to our situation, to truly become husband and wife and grow closer.”

You hated sounding so desperate, but you were grasping at straws.

Daniel too was losing his patience. “I do not know who filled your head with such fantasies,” he scoffed, beginning to pace as you had earlier.

“There is no need to be brash,” you frowned.

In an instant, Daniel snapped.

“Perhaps we should establish an understanding now,” he shouted, his eyes blazing with animosity. “My decision to take you as my bride had nothing to do with love or companionship and everything to do with fulfilling my duties as a man of rank in society and ensuring the longevity of my family name! All those frivolous ideas you expected to accompany this union are null. I suggest you come to terms with that now, lest you harbor hopes for something that will never happen.”

His declaration stunned you into silence. You had not expected all to be harmonious after this night, but you believed that with effort, from both parties, things could improve, as your sister-in-law had assured.

But as you stood there, it became clear that Daniel was not willing to put in the effort. His coldness suggested it might be impossible for him. Years of responsibility had seemingly hardened him beyond repair.

Yet, you felt no pang of empathy for him. It was not Daniel who had been uprooted from his home and thrust into the arms of a brutish stranger.

You stood taller, summoning the last vestiges of your strength. “Well then, Your Grace,” you swallowed, lifting your chin in defiance, “if that is truly how you feel, then I am afraid I shall not be ‘consummating’ this marriage with you tonight.”

Daniel was stupefied as he watched you begin to pull back the comforter on your grand bed. Your dismissal was something he was not accustomed to.

“Do you not realize that you have a duty to perform as my wife?” he demanded, storming across the room towards you.

“And what of your duty to me as a husband?” you retorted, your voice rising. You no longer cared if the staff overheard; your anger had reached its boiling point.

Daniel had no rebuttal. Both of your eyes burned like freshly ignited embers as silence enveloped the room. It stretched on far longer than you anticipated, leaving room for emotions other than anger to take root.

A new, unfamiliar feeling mingled with the tension in the air. Though foreign, it held a certain allure, tempting you to lean into it, to cultivate it.

Daniel appeared more handsome to you then than he had the entire night. Standing there, seething with anger, his chest heaving, you could see dark wisps of hair peeking from behind the fabric of his shirt where he’d undone a few of its buttons. You felt a wave of shame for thinking such things. You wanted to remain angry at him, yet you couldn't ignore the gravitational pull you felt towards him.

Seemingly sharing those secret feelings, the Duke’s eyes raked over your frame, finally taking in the beautiful nightgown he had chosen for you.

He knew it was a beautiful gown when he selected it, but now, seeing you wear it, it seemed to possess a different kind of beauty altogether.

He took a step towards you, and when you did not cower, he took another, and then another, until your bodies were mere inches apart.

His tone changed drastically as he towered over you, his eyes alight with the same emotion that swirled in the room.

“Are you saying that you do not want to consummate this marriage with me, or that you simply won’t?”

It was your chest now that was heaving. Even when he had held you close on the dance floor earlier, it did not feel the same as this.

“I won’t,” you shook your head.

His large hand began toying with the strap of your nightgown, his eyes briefly falling to your lips before finding your eyes again.

“You won’t,” he repeated, his voice heavy, “but do you want to, Your Grace?”

His use of your title was calculated, as were many of his words, but you hated to admit it was working in some strange way.

Yet you would not give him the satisfaction of knowing it was working.

“No,” you breathed out, “I do not.”

Despite your words, you made no move to remove his fingers that were now tracing your collarbone. You and Daniel both watched his movements.

“It’s a shame then, that this beautiful nightgown will go to waste,” he whispered.

“A shame, indeed,” your inflection betrayed you.

It took all your power not to give in to the temptation before you—this ridiculously handsome, titled man at your fingertips. But that man was cruel and aloof, and though he was your husband, you could not, and would not, yield to him.

His fingers left your body reluctantly. Taking a step back, his features soured again.

“Well then. If this is how you wish for things to be, then so be it.”

He gave you no time to respond, leaving you dumbfounded beside your bed as he made a hasty exit from your chambers, marking his leave with a slam of the door.

Of course, you did not wish for things to be thus, but he left you no choice. The rigid indifference with which he treated you, his calculated coldness, all but forced your hand. How could one forge a bond where there was no warmth, no kindness?

With nowhere to channel your anger, you swiftly grabbed the antiquated porcelain vase from your bedside table and hurled it toward the door. Its pieces shattered onto the floor, leaving nicks in the wooden door.

The room began closing in on you, and you hurried to the balcony, clutching the railing to steady yourself.

Your breathing was heavy as you stared out onto the beautiful estate that was now your home, realizing you would never fully enjoy it with your life now forever linked to the dark cloud that was the Duke of Sterling.

#fic rec #positivegvf

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positivegvfthings · 1 year ago

Text

Touch Again - JMK

Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Smut 18+, Vouyerism, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), Slapping, Dacryphilia (a little), Spit Kink, Cockwarming, Cum Play. This is straight up smut no plot. So I hope you enjoy🤍

Laying in your king size bed, snuggled up to the side of your loving partner. While feeling the heat radiate off of him, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he takes. Smiling to yourself, as you see the sun rising in the distance from your window. Josh made sure when the two of you bought this house, that your bed would face the window.

He loved a good view, while also the voyueristic side of him wanted to take advantage of it too. The two of you could care less if a neighbor or passerby saw the two of you making love.

He simply said, “They can watch if they want, I love to show off my girl…”

You could feel him stir beside you, as he slowly began to wake up. You kissed his cheek softly.

“Wake up…” You trailed softly. “Get out of bed.”

“The sun came up…” He speaks softly in his morning voice. As you feel him press against you. Still naked from the previous night’s rendezvous. “And I need that touch again…” He whispered against your ear, nibbling softly.

“Again? You’re not tired of me yet…” You giggled softly, trailing kisses along his neck.

“Never tired of you mama.” He growled quietly, gripping your ass in his hand giving it a firm smack. He rolled you over onto your back, as he started to leave wet kisses along your chest.

Your nipples harden from his touch, as he takes one of your nipples pinching it between his fingers. Eliciting a moan from you, making him smirk in return as he latches his mouth onto your other breast making sure to give attention to both.

As he gives attention to both, your back arches off of the bed, as he descends down your body. Worshiping you, as praises fall from his lips. He kisses and nips at your waist, while slowly trailing wet kisses on your inner thighs. You could feel the poolness between your legs, sighing softly as he nears your core but never touches it yet.

“This I could never get tired of…” He swipes his two fingers through your slick folds. “So fucking wet and warm for me.” He licks his fingers, groaning softly.

“Please…” You whine, trying to get some sort of friction from him as your body stirs.

“Patience, my girl always gets what she wants. Does she not?” He grabbed your jaw looking into your eyes. In which you nod.

“What’s that my dear?”

“Yes Josh, I always get what I want.”

He smirks softly, “Good girl.” He dips below again, hands grip into the softness of your thighs as his hot tongue swipes up through your center. His tongue furiously laps at your core, profanities slip your mouth.

You feel his tongue swirl around your clit a few times before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud. Sucking it into his mouth you feel his teeth graze the bundle of nerves, sending a shock of waves through you.

“Please… don’t stop!” You whine for him, as your hips move forward for more friction as you hold onto his curls.

His lips release you, and his tongue begins to flick over your clit at a faster pace. You feel the tingling building in your groin, as his fingers toy at your entrance. He flattens his tongue, licking a long stripe up your center, before letting his middle and ring fingers enter you again. He pulls himself closer to you, burying his head into you, continuing to let his tongue lick and taste every inch of you. He shakes his head from side to side, the feeling of his nose against your clit pushing you closer to the edge.

He pulls his face away, looking up at you with dark, blown out pupils. You can see your arousal glistening on his lips, on his chin, in the hairs of his mustache, you were glowing all around him.

“M’ gonna cum.” You cry out, feeling that wire ready to snap.

“All over my face.” He mumbles into your cunt, as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you, edging you closer and closer to your release as the warmth of his tongue on your clit sends you soaring.

“Shit! Josh…” As he sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks his tongue over the bud until you burst. His name echoes through the room as you cum, his grip on your hips iron clad as he feels you convulsing against his tongue.

Once you came down from your high, he pulled away slowly leaning over you grabbing your cheeks making you open your mouth as he spits your release into your mouth. You obliged by swallowing it, as he hums in content.

“Taste how sweet you are baby? Like fucking strawberries.” He kisses your lips roughly, as he laps his tongue into your mouth. You can taste yourself and him, losing yourself into his touch.

You reach for his hardened length, wrapping your hand around him stroking him slowly. As he groans into your mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you, like I don’t love you.” He looked at you with his blown out lust filled eyes.

You felt your cheeks flush, and bit your lip softly. Suddenly being grabbed by him as he flips you onto your knees, keeping you bent down so that your face is pretty much buried into the duvet of your bed. He has you both facing the window of your bedroom. Knowing damn well that one of your neighbors would be going on their morning walk soon.

He lined himself up with your core, nudging his head in between your folds to collect your slick before slamming into you. Causing you to gasp from the sudden move.

“God, you’re so fucking warm.” He groans as he pulls your hair back pulling you flush against his hips as his cock drives into you further, brushing your cervix.

He was going at a brutal pace, the room filled with lewd sounds. But you didn’t care, you were his and he was yours. And he wanted the world to know.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He talks into your ear as he licks a stripe up your cheek, sending a shiver down your spin. You nod, teetering on the edge from your second orgasm.

“Gonna show them you’re mine. Make it known.” He grunts as he uses his one hand to massage your breasts while his other hand is still wrapped in your hair. Making your eyes roll back to the rhythm he set.

“I’m yours…” You pant as he keeps hitting that spot repeatedly. Looking out the window you see one of the neighbors walking by, part of you hoping they’ll see the two of you committing such acts. Where the other part of you started to get shy, as your body began to slouch under his touch.

“Uh-uh, you’re gonna stay like that baby. Let them see. You’re mine, not theirs. Don’t be afraid.” He held you upright flushed against his chest as he began to pound into you relentlessly, as pornagraphic sounds left your mouth.

And you were sure the neighbor heard, by the reaction they had, however they didn’t look up at the window and just kept on going with their morning jog.

Josh shook you from your thoughts as he smacked your tit, earning a moan from you. You clenched around him, earning a groan from him. “You gonna give me another, yeah?” He pulled tighter on your hair, earning a whine from you.

“Yes, I’m so close.” You fill the sting as he keeps thrusting into you. He moved his hand down to rub circles on your sensitive clit. And that sent you crashing into your second orgasm.

As you were convulsing around him, coming down from your high he pulls out of you and lays you flat on your back. Lining himself back up, he enters a bit more gently this time so you decide to pick on him.

“I thought you were going to fuck me, like you don’t love me?” You smirk as you see his jawline tighten, and his face turn red.

Next thing you knew, he withdrew completely and slammed back into you forcefully. In which made you yelp and take your words back.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He looked down at you smirking softly. You held back a moan, as he lifted your one leg over his shoulder to get a deeper angle.

“Can’t talk now huh, mama?”

“Be nice to me…” You felt tears threaten your eyes from pleasure.

“I was nice last night… I thought you liked it a little rough.” He trails kisses down your legs as his pace is still relentless.

“Fuck! I do… I do…” You let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot he knows so well inside of you.

He smacks your cheek, grabbing your face to look at him. “There’s my girl. All cock drunk.”

You locked eyes with him, as he slips a finger into your mouth sucking on it, moaning against his finger as he slips another to hook your mouth. After lapping your tongue around his fingers he takes them out and pinches your nipple between those fingers rolling the bud, earning another whine from you.

“Please, Josh. More…” You pull him in closer with your one leg that was wrapped around his waist.

He smiled and moved his hand to wrap around your throat applying some pressure to constrict your airway. But just enough to not hurt you.

“Let me know if it's too much… tap my arm.” He said with softness in his voice. As he began to pound into you, as your eyes rolled back biting your lip gently.

He applies a bit more pressure earning a moan from you, as you feel him brushing your cervix again feeling another orgasm building up.

“J-josh…” You make out in a raspy tone.

“I know baby… You’re doing so good for me.” He moans out, making his grip on your throat slightly tighter. He looks down at where the two of you connect, as spits onto your pussy watching his saliva run down. You watch him as you feel the band ready to snap.

Releasing his grip on your throat he then throws your other leg over his shoulder. As he slightly lifts you up, to fuck into you deeper and faster. Praises fall from your lips, only inflating his ego.

“M’so close…”

“Me too baby… Come on, give me a good one.” He holds your legs against his chest with one arm as he fucks into you, he then uses his free hand to rub circles into your clit.

“Fuckfuckfuck….” You chant his name as you unravel around him again. And suddenly you feel his hips start to falter as he keeps pumping into you.

“God damn…” You feel him begin to slip out.

“No!” You yelp, “Inside… please.” You look at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m gonna fill you up, real good mama.” He grunts as he continues his pace, after a few more thrusts he spills inside of you. As the two of you calm down from your high, he stays tucked inside.

“Gonna keep you safe and warm…” You sigh softly, as your breathing levels out.

He smiles softly as he lets your legs drop gently. He pulls out slowly seeing his cum drip out of you he takes two fingers collecting it and bringing it to your chest. Drawing a heart, then smearing it across your lips.

Licking your lips slowly, you hum from the taste of him giggling softly. As he drops your legs gently he leans down to kiss your lips softly.

“You’re a fucking sight.” He chuckles softly.

“Pretty sure we scared the neighbor… Might need to move somewhere else.” You giggle softly, caressing his face.

“I could’ve fucked you on the terrace.” His face flushed out as he smiles at you.

“Then we would’ve gotten the police called on us for indecent exposure.”

“Would’ve been worth it.” He laughs softly as you playfully smack his chest.

“Come on, let’s clean up, lover boy.” You shake your head getting up from your bed heading into the bathroom to start the shower.

Taglist-

@devilat-thedoor @fkfearandliveyourlegend @hi-hi-hello11 @gvfmuse @meetingthestardust @myleftsock @thunderstomp-and-tequila @vanillabear27 @dharma-divine33 @ @thecoldwind @gretasfallingsky @char289 @moonlightisdancing @wagnerbrainrot @itsafullmoon

#positivegvf #gvfficrecs

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