Sinfonia in D Major, "La Veneziana": I. Allegro assai

Aiden worriedly looked around at the crowded ballroom, trying to find his wife.

The small dinner had turned out to be a ball, celebrating the end of the Season, and the opening of the earl's hunting party.

Upon realizing the size of the event, Amalia had tried to convince him to get back home. Mercilessly, Aiden had forced her inside, promising her everything would be alright. Since she tried to negotiate, it was agreed they would make an appearance, introduce her to a few people, dance with him... And only then would he take her back home to celebrate the end of her menstruation.

The plan was perfect and had unfolded without an issue for a while. He had introduced her to a few of his peers, they'd danced together, and the mystery that posed the new Duchess of Leeds was on everyone's lips. Now, however, he was ready for them to leave, but his wife was nowhere to be found.

Still in search of her, he explored the different rooms where guests were spread. As he entered the music parlor, he heard a burst of laughter from a small group of men. Turning toward the commotion, he found Amalia surrounded by four gentlemen, narrating an amusing anecdote. A disapproving frown stretched his brows, not liking how close to her those men were standing.

She was absolutely stunning tonight, with an ivory dress made of the finest silk. Her cleavage was more modest than the current fashion demanded, but it was plenty enough. Her hair had been arranged in a high bun, her luscious curls escaping from everywhere and bouncing around her head. She was wearing her small ruby necklace, which was too modest for a woman of her rank, but she refused to take it off. So, to make up for it, he'd offered her a pair of magnificent earrings and two assorted bracelets, all made of rubies.

It was no wonder she was the center of every man's attention. Of all the ladies here, she was the most splendid one. And she was his. Pride took over him as he noticed how comfortable she was now, compared to when they had arrived. With a glass of champagne in her hand, she looked like she belonged with his peers, like everyone else in here. His fiery bohemian of a wife could turn into a socialite, just like he's imagined. When she slightly lost her footing, Aiden wondered how many of those glasses of champagne she'd had.

One of the men bent to her ear and whispered something, making her laugh. Alright, that was enough. Aiden walked to the group, determined to find out whatever this was about. When he reached his wife, her face lightened as she gave him a beautiful smile.

"Your Grace!" she welcomed him. Not resisting the urge to touch her, he slid his hand around her waist and held her close to him. She was still staring at him, her head slightly tilted, her mouth inviting.

Displays of affection or intimacy were strongly frowned upon, but he saw an occasion to make those men understand the lady was married – and very happily so. Ignoring the surprise on her face, he bent to give her a short but intense kiss. Once he pulled back, he found her adorably blushing before she turned her attention back to the men.

"Your Grace," said one of them. "When London heard you had chosen a foreigner over an English beauty, you can imagine how shocked everyone was. Now that you have finally introduced her to the world, I can assure you, a lot of us will travel to Spain looking for such a woman to marry." His comment was received with laughs and nods from his friends, who all seemed to agree.

"I can assure you," Aiden responded. "She is unique. You wouldn't find another like her, even if you went all the way to China." Amalia's cheek turned pink with delight at the compliment. "Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I wish to dance with my wife."

Not waiting for their replies, he guided her to the main room, where a swarm of dancers was elegantly gliding over the wooden floors.

"You see, love, your debut in this world is a complete success," he whispered in her ear. "You are a natural."

"The champagne certainly helped."

With a low chuckle, he took his position, clutched his wife's hand, and put his other one on the small of her back. He was glad to see the dance lessons had paid off. She was moving easily through the other dancers, following him, and keeping her frame straight. They danced until the song ended, and then he offered her another one. There was much to be enjoyed by this proximity. It had been four days since he last had her, and he was growing impatient. Tonight, the wait would end.

Possessively pressing closer, Aiden looked down at his lovely wife, finding her already staring back at him. The sight made him nearly groan. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes were glassy, her pupils dilated, and her mouth was half-opened. It was certainly not the effort that was making her this flustered, since they had been dancing at a slow rhythm.

His gaze darkened upon understanding what it meant. She was aroused. Just like him, she was thinking about sex. The realization made him lose the little restraint he had left.

He let go of her waist but kept her hand in his. Impatiently, he pulled her behind him, ignoring the strange looks people gave them. His sparse knowledge of the house wouldn't help him in his quest to find a room, but he figured they would have more luck upstairs. With that idea in mind, he dragged out of the room, into a corridor where a few guests were enjoying a quiet pause.

Amalia pulled on his hand with a giggle, knowing precisely what he had in mind.

"Aiden, we cannot!"

Of course they could. They certainly wouldn't be the first nor the last ones to find a quiet place for a quick fuck during a party. His pace was determined, and he guided her upstairs, where there was no one in sight, and opened the first door they came across. It was a billiard room where four gentlemen were playing a game in the company of three ladies. Aiden shut it and moved further down the hallway. He randomly opened a few doors until he found one that led to a woman's parlor. Amalia was unceremoniously pushed inside, and he shut the door behind them. There were no candles, but the light of the moon from the large window was enough. He grabbed his wife's face and bent to kiss her hungrily.

"Aiden, no. Someone could come," she argued with a shaky voice, turning her face away from him.

"Oh, someone is definitely going to come. Two people, if we're lucky," Aiden humored. Letting her go for an instant, he went to lock the door behind him. "Now we won't be disturbed."

"Aiden, let's go. We can do this in the carriage," she suggested as he claimed her lips again.

"That is a great idea."

"I meant we do it 'there instead', not 'also there'!" She whimpered when she understood he wouldn't stop his seduction. Because he knew she was resisting purely for the form, he didn't stop his seduction. Instead, he freed one of her nipples. "Please, someone could hear."

"Then don't make a sound."

"You know I can't!"

With an animalistic growl, he bent to take the brownish tip of her perky breast in his mouth. She gasped, a shiver coursing through her body, making her tremble in his arms.

As he kissed her again, savagely invading her mouth with his tongue, he hiked up her skirts and sent an impatient hand between her legs. The opening of her undergarment was easy to find, and he slipped his hand in it. When he found her soaking wet already, he smiled like a predator. She could object as much as she wanted. This part of her didn't lie. And this part wanted him as much as he wanted her. Two fingers found their way inside of her tight wetness, and she moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders.

With his digits pumping in and out of her, he nipped at her ear, knowing she was seconds from giving in. "Any complaints left?" he asked.

"Faster..." she begged with a panting breath. Triumphant, he complied and sped up his rhythm, adding a third finger. Her helpless cry was like music to his ears, and when she spread her legs wider so he had better access, his satisfaction peaked.

Maddened by desire, he ravished her lips and pushed her to a small desk behind her, never stopping the back and forth of his fingers. When her behind reached the edge of the desk, he removed his hand, ignoring her faint protest, and lifted her to sit her on it. Before he could take place between her parted thighs, she stopped him.

"Wait..." she said, pushing him away.

At first, he thought she would protest again, but he watched as she got down, turned around, and bent over the wooden surface. He only understood what she had in mind when she grabbed handfuls of her skirts to lift them. When it became clear she wanted to be taken from behind, a wide smirk grew on his face.

"You truly love this position, don't you?" he teased her, pressing his erection against her ass. She nodded silently, and sent a hand on the wall in front of her, bracing for his amorous assault, her other hand still holding her skirts in place.

He didn't move for an instant, wondering what he had ever done to deserve a woman like Amalia Romero.

Since he wasn't taking any action, she grew impatient, mumbling something he couldn't make out, pressing herself harder against him. Eager to comply, he opened his breeches with sudden moves, freeing his impatient cock. He found the opening of her undergarment, fisted the fabric, and tore it, splitting it all the way to the seam at her waist. He admired her delectable bottom through the ripped fabric and grabbed it with both hands, enjoying the malleableness, the smoothness of it.

She moaned, growing restless, and he decided it wasn't the moment to be frolicking around. With his cock in hand, he positioned it at her entrance. He rubbed its head on her pink, silky folds, coating it with her wetness. Once she was writhing and begging him to take her, he took possession of her with a firm thrust, extracting a moan from both of them. Hungry and desperate, she pressed her behind harder on him, to feel him better, and he wasted no time mounting her.

He pounded into her with deep, relentless thrusts, impaling her over and over on his swollen flesh. Quickly, she was panting and moaning, too far gone into passion to mind about how loud she was. Bending over, he put his hand over hers on the wall and kissed her shoulder, her neck, never stopping the momentum of his hips.

Aiden was ecstatic. Never would he have imagined that marital life would suit him so well. His entire life, when he'd thought of sex with the woman he would marry, he had expected it to be dull, under the covers, in a bed at home. He hadn't envisioned a lover, but the mother of his children, a proper lady.

However, now that he was experiencing conjugal life with Amalia, he felt blessed to have both the spouse and the mistress. He wouldn't have imagined it possible to be having illicit sex with the mother of his children, with a hundred people a few rooms away. She was so sensual, so willing... He reveled in the knowledge that of all the women in this world, she was the one he was bound to spend the rest of his life with. She was his. Forever.

Maybe in twenty years, they would still isolate themselves during boring events, hike up her skirts, and fuck like this. For now, at least, she wanted it as much as he did.

She had objected a little, but it was out of principle, because her tutor had been relentlessly pushing her to become a proper lady. But Aiden didn't want proper; not when it was just the two of them. To his great satisfaction, there was nothing proper about her right now. She was under him, her head tilted to the side to give his mouth as much access as possible to her delectable skin, her lips half-opened, letting out sensual sighs and moans. With her hand on the wall, she pressed back on each of his thrusts, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible.

By now, he knew her well enough to sense she was quickly reaching her climax. But alas, he was closer to his release than she was hers. Only a few seconds remained before his release. She was too tight, too warm, and the spontaneous throbs of her walls were too much for him.

Sending his free hand between her legs, where their bodies were joined, he touched her exactly where she needed him, rolling her swollen bundle of nerves under his index finger.

It was as if he had pushed a magic button. She screamed his name once, twice, and her walls clenched rhythmically around him as her entire body tensed, trembled, and melted under him. He quickened the pace, the slapping of their bodies resonating in the room. Soon, it was his turn to come, her insides milking him to the very last drop. He felt every pulse, his teeth clenched as he endlessly poured his seed inside of her.

Everything was so intense and raw, it took a while for his heart to get back to a reasonable pace. With one last kiss on her shoulder, enjoying the saltiness of her skin, he moved out of her warmth and pulled away to button up his pants.

Still prone to a few waves of ecstasy, she remained bent over the desk for a moment, and he admired the view of her glistening intimacy, enjoying the sight of his cum slowly seeping out of her. Once he was done adjusting his breeches, she clumsily straightened up, her frame limp, slightly trembling, and her skirts fell back in place. With expert moves, she took care of her cleavage and touched her hair to see if everything was still in place.

Very satisfied, she gave him a complicit look, her eyes sparkling with happiness despite her apparent tiredness. When she came to kiss him tenderly, he welcomed her gladly into his embrace. They remained like this for a moment, delaying their return to the others.

Because they still had a two hours long carriage ride before they could be at home, he found the courage to make them leave the room.

Even though the evening hadn't unfolded as he'd expected, he couldn't find a single thing to complain about. And the night was still young. He was certain that once at home and on their way there, they would find more ways to make it even more spectacular.

"We have arrived, darling," Aiden spoke tenderly, waking Amalia from her slumber.

Disoriented, she opened her eyes, trying to understand what was happening. She was in a carriage, her head resting on Aiden's shoulder. They had been to a ball, and now they were back home.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"About two minutes after we got in, yes."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I had planned on ravishing you," she explained, disappointed. With a genuine laugh, he bent to kiss her hair while she stretched her limbs, sore from sleep.

"We're home. You can ravish me in our bed."

This new plan suited Amalia, who got out first with Aiden's assistance. She took the arm he offered once he was out as well, and they walked to the door. It was quite late, but Appleton was waiting for them in the entrance hall. After much deliberation, Aiden had decided to keep him in the household, and Amalia had noted that her relationship with the butler had significantly improved. He wasn't looking at her with as much self-sufficiency as he used to.

"Your Grace," said the servant, addressing her, "you had a visitor tonight. We told him you were out, but he insisted on seeing you. He waited for three hours before leaving. He said he would be back tomorrow, before lunch."

Amalia exchanged a confused look with her husband, wondering what this could be about. It seemed extremely peculiar. They rarely had unannounced visitors in the country, especially one calling on Amalia, at such hours, expecting to be received.

"Did he leave a card?"

"I'm afraid he didn't, your Grace. He didn't leave a name either, but he said you would receive him anyhow."

Amalia frowned. The whole thing seemed odd, almost worrisome. Who on earth came by a duke's manor, uninvited, expecting to be welcomed regardless?

"Why is that?" Aiden asked, more and more intrigued – just like her.

"Well, he said that after all... he was Milady's brother."

This one is kinda joyful, and I think it embodies opulence and parties pretty well, so here comes a light and mellifluous (it's an actual word, wtf) song: Sinfonia in D Major, "La Veneziana": I. Allegro assai.