Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 135: My wife

Chapter 135: My wife

Belle remained in Quinn’s tent, her patience wearing thin as the guards refused to let her leave. Mia, unwilling to wait idly any longer, had ventured off to spy on the meeting, hoping to learn why it was taking so long. Yet she had yet to return, only adding to Belle’s growing unease.

She considered slipping out through the side of the tent, but the heavy presence of guards surrounding it made escape impossible. Why was he keeping her here? The longer she waited, the more restless she became. And then there was her mother, why had she suddenly appeared in her dream? Maddie had once said there was a reason for her being here. Could it be true? If she had not been sent to this place, she would never have learned that her mother was a witch, nor that she herself was one. If her mother had been a black witch, then perhaps Christabel could tell her more. Was it merely a dream, or had her mother truly reached out to her?

Her thoughts were abruptly shattered as the tent’s entrance flew open, and her gaze landed on Quinn...bleeding!

Her eyes widened in horror, her heart pounding as she rushed to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"No! I take back everything I said earlier, I didn’t mean it! I still want you! Please, do not die!" She cried, clutching him desperately.

"You are more likely to kill me than the wound itself," he muttered, his voice strained.

Realizing her grip was too tight, she quickly let go, hastily wiping her tears. But as her gaze dropped to the injury, embarrassment crept over her, it was merely a cut on his side, nothing life-threatening.

"That was... an overreaction," she admitted, inching backward, only for Quinn to seize her by the waist and pull her against him.

Before she could protest, his lips claimed hers.

Her body yielded without hesitation, her eyes fluttering shut as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Like a starved beast at last given sustenance, Quinn devoured her lips, his mouth hungrily capturing first her lower lip, then her upper. His sword clattered to the ground as he deepened the kiss, pulling her with him toward the bed.

Lowering them onto the mattress, he hovered over her, never once breaking their heated embrace.

His hand slid to her waist before trailing lower, grasping her by the curve of her hip. A soft moan escaped her lips, swallowed instantly by his own. His fingers kneaded her flesh, his grip possessive as the kiss intensified.

At last, he pulled away just enough to allow her to breathe, their gazes locking, both unable to deny how desperately they longed for each other.

"I want to get you pregnant, Belle," he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with want.

She stilled, recalling the moment he had once uttered those same words, never realizing, until now, that he had meant them.

"I..." she began, struggling to find the right words.

But Quinn silenced her with another kiss.

"Belle, I don’t know if I will survive this war. Our enemies are well-prepared, and I fear I may not make it back to you," Quinn admitted, his voice laced with torment. "I do not deserve you, but my love for you is a poison, it consumes me. Let me mark you again, completely this time, forever."

His words sent Belle’s heart racing, not with fear but with longing. She wanted to be his, to belong to him in every way.

"Take me, Quinn," she whispered, breathless with desire.

Without hesitation, he tore her clothes from her body, letting the fabric fall carelessly to the floor before stripping himself bare.

"It’s been a while," he murmured against her ear. Before she could process his meaning, his fingers found her core, and a loud moan escaped her lips.

"Quinn..." she gasped, surrendering to the pleasure as he moved inside her, tracing circles around her sensitive flesh.

It was only the second time he had touched her like this, yet she had nearly forgotten how intoxicating pleasure could be especially with the one she loved. Instinctively, she reached for him, digging her nails into his waist in a futile attempt to ground herself against the overwhelming sensation.

His gaze dropped to her breasts, and without hesitation, he took one into his mouth, sucking, teasing, biting, his tongue tracing slow, torturous circles around her hardened peak.

"No..." she breathed, overwhelmed.

"I am going in," he warned, positioning himself at her entrance. She met his gaze, giving him a silent nod of consent before he pushed inside her.

A sharp cry escaped her lips as he filled her completely, stretching her, setting her body ablaze. He was thick, harder than she remembered, and for a fleeting moment, she almost asked why he felt even bigger than the last time.

"I know," he murmured, reading her unspoken thoughts. "But get used to it. I will pour my seed into you every night until you conceive."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, and as he moved inside her, slow at first, allowing her to adjust, her mind blurred with pleasure. She couldn’t think, couldn’t form words and all she could do was feel.

Then, he quickened his pace, gripping her hips to hold her in place as he thrust deeper, faster, harder. Her moans grew louder, filling the chamber, slipping past the walls to the ears of the guards stationed outside.

One of them shifted uncomfortably. "It’s going to be war from here on," he muttered, imagining Hezekiah’s fury when he learned that his supposed queen was being claimed by his own general.

"She was never his to begin with," the guard beside him replied. "Fate is simply restoring what was always meant to be."

Though some of them had secretly hoped Belle would remain with Hezekiah, they all knew that destiny could not be denied.

"True! Well, I am happy for them."

Back inside the tent, Quinn held Belle close as they caught their breath, their bodies still entwined from their moment of passion.

With his lips grazing her ear, he whispered, "Should we try for twins?" A deep blush spread across her cheeks.

"And who will take care of them?" She asked, recalling how little experience he had in such matters.

"You would guide me. I am ready to be a good father," he assured, his sincerity drawing a soft laugh from her. His eagerness to change, to build something new with her, made her heart stir.

"On one condition," she said, lifting a brow.

He smirked. "Name it."

"I get to name the boy," she declared, making him chuckle before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"As you wish, my wife."

Her heart fluttered at the title, but before she could respond, he shifted, reclaiming her lips in a deep kiss, reigniting the fire between them. The night stretched on in quiet intimacy, their whispers filling the dimly lit space until exhaustion claimed them both.

The Following Morning

"You wretch! How dare you lie with my husband? You dare betray the king too?!" Michelle’s furious voice pierced the air as she barged into the tent, waking them both.

"Michelle!" Belle gasped, momentarily forgetting the woman’s existence.

"Wait here," Quinn murmured, unbothered by the outburst as he rose from the bed, naked and unashamed.

Michelle’s anger faltered, her gaze dropping to his form in stunned silence. She swallowed hard, realizing why so many women whispered about him, why Belle had not let him go.

Belle, watching the blatant lust, tightened her grip on the blanket, biting back the urge to hurl something at Michelle’s head.

Quinn, entirely indifferent to her reaction, stepped forward. "You will hear the news in two days, but as for us, our arrangement is over. You were useful, so I will spare you."

Michelle’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? Are you trying to justify your betrayal by blaming me?"

"Justify?" Quinn scoffed. "Why would I need to when I am with my wife?"

Michelle let out a sharp laugh. "Wife?"

"Guards." Quinn’s voice was calm but commanding. Immediately, soldiers entered, seizing Michelle by the arms.

"You will regret this! My father..."

"You will be with him soon," Quinn interrupted, motioning for the guards to take her away.

As the tent fell silent again, he returned to Belle, pulling her into his embrace, but she shifted, her brows knitting in a frown.

"Are you still upset?" He asked. "Shall I deal with her properly to make you feel better?"

She lifted her gaze, eyes flashing. "You stood naked in front of her."

He smirked. "Ah, my wife is rather protective of my body."

"I am not your wife. We are divorced," she retorted, her lips pursing.

Quinn chuckled, entirely amused. "Then let’s marry again, after the war. I will court you properly, give you everything you ask for. We will live by the ocean, just as you have always wanted."

Belle stared at him, caught between disbelief and the warmth blooming in her chest. Could this truly be happening?

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