Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 96: Tie you up

Chapter 96: Tie you up

"Are you all right? Did anyone touch you inappropriately?" Hezekiah asked, concern laced in his voice as he studied her.

Belle quickly shook her head, stepping forward to grasp his arm.

"I caught you first, which means I win," she declared, swiftly diverting the conversation.

Hezekiah opened his mouth to press further, but before he could, the priest’s voice rang out.

"Our Queen has found the King! She is victorious!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, leaving Hezekiah with little choice but to set his worries aside. Together, they ascended the altar once more.

"The ceremony has now come to an end. It is time for our Alpha and Luna to complete the final task."

Belle’s breath hitched at the priest’s words. Task? The night she had both anticipated and dreaded had finally arrived. There was no escape now, no more room for excuses.

"Shall we?" Hezekiah extended his hand toward her, his expression unreadable.

Swallowing her hesitation, Belle placed her palm in his, allowing him to guide her away from the altar, away from the gathering, until they were alone in the dimly lit corridor.

Hezekiah couldn’t help but smile as he felt her grip tighten around his own. He resisted the urge to tease her, wary of worsening her nerves. The thought amused him; how could a woman who had already been married be so shy?

"I am not anxious," Belle suddenly spoke, as if reading his mind. "It’s just... I never imagined myself with another man until the divorce. It is not as though I am unfamiliar with this."

She caught the flicker of amusement on his lips, illuminated faintly by the warm glow of the lamps lining the corridor.

"I did not say anything," he replied.

Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and averted her gaze.

Upon reaching his chamber, Belle was greeted by a sight she had not expected. The room had been adorned with care—scented petals scattered across the floor, candlelight casting a soft golden hue, an air of intimacy thick in the atmosphere.

Her eyes landed on the bed, where red roses lay strewn across the sheets. Her heart pounded.

"Do you like it?"

Hezekiah’s voice rumbled from behind her, close—too close. She barely had time to react before he wrapped his arms around her waist, his breath warm against the shell of her ear.

Belle swallowed hard, her voice faltering. "Y-yes."

She was frozen beneath his embrace, her body refusing to move.

"Would you like to take off my pants?"

The question sent a shiver down her spine. His voice was deep, smooth and enticing in a way that made her pulse quicken. In response, she nodded.

Without hesitation, Hezekiah turned her to face him, his hands settling firmly on her waist. Their faces were mere inches apart, their breaths mingling in the dim candlelight.

"Go ahead," he murmured.

With careful, trembling fingers, Belle reached for the zipper of his pants, dragging it down slowly, deliberately.

The moment her hand brushed against his manhood, Hezekiah let out a low groan, his grip on her tightening.

Desire burned in his gaze, dark and intense. Having her in his arms after so long ignited a hunger within him, one he had no intention of losing control of. If he lost control in front of her, she would be scared of him and never want to be with him again.

So he reminded himself that it was their first night and there would be many more to come. He couldn’t have his wolf ruining things for him. Tonight was for her. Before this night ended, she would know only his touch, his name and she would not dare think of Quinn again.

As Belle slowly unzipped his pants, her gaze flickered to his chest, and before she could stop herself, Quinn’s image surfaced in her mind. A wave of desire clouded her thoughts, momentarily distorting reality.

Lost in the illusion, her hand drifted upward, fingers tracing the firm ridges of Hezekiah’s sculpted abs. A deep groan escaped his lips at her touch.

"Is this my punishment?" He pteased.

His voice shattered the trance, snapping her back to the present. Belle froze. What was she doing?

Lowering her gaze in shame, she attempted to withdraw her hand, but Hezekiah lifted her chin with gentle insistence.

"You haven’t finished," he murmured. "I don’t think I have the patience to wait much longer."

His voice was raw, laced with need, sending an unfamiliar rush through her.

Was her heart racing for him? Or was she imagining things again?

"Give me more space," she whispered.

At last, he released her waist, granting her the room she needed to pull his pants down completely.

The moment she finished, he moved swiftly, lifting her into his arms without warning. A startled gasp left her lips as he carried her toward the couch, lowering her onto the plush surface before hovering over her.

"May I?" Hezekiah asked, his gaze dropping to the fabric of her gown.

She nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t move.

"Words, please," he urged, his voice firm yet coaxing.

"Yes," she breathed. "Take them off."

Without hesitation, he reached for her dress, only to frown at the effort it required. Growing impatient, he tore the fabric at the shoulder, muttering, "Sorry, it was too long."

Belle barely registered the apology as he tossed the ruined garment aside, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

A low growl rumbled from deep within his chest, his wolf stirring at the sight before him. His golden eyes darkened, flickering to her soft curves, the swell of her breasts rising and falling with each breath. His fangs ached, aching to claim, to devour, to mark.

But he restrained himself. Not yet. Belle shifted slightly, adjusting herself beneath him. The simple motion brought her chest against his face, and the last of his control snapped.

With a guttural growl, Hezekiah sank his fangs into her neck.

A sharp cry tore from her throat.

"Hezekiah!" She gasped, her hands flying to his chest in an attempt to push him away.

But as he lifted his head, her breath hitched.

His eyes glowed—a fierce, molten gold.

"Ahh!" Hezekiah groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as if waging a war within himself.

It had been too long. Too long since he had touched a woman. Too long since he had desired anyone but her. From the moment they met, there had been no one else. No meaningless encounters, no fleeting distractions. Only her.

But patience was a foreign concept to him in bed. He was not gentle. He was not slow. He did not wait.

And yet, for her, he had waited.

A year. A damned year.

And now—now that she was finally here, he was losing control.

"Are you all right?" Belle’s voice was small, uncertain.

He shook his head.

His breath grew labored, his fists clenching at his sides as he forced himself away from her.

"Ahhh!" Another groan tore from him, his body trembling with restraint.

Belle rose to her feet cautiously, keeping a safe distance.

"Hezekiah?" She called, her concern deepening as she watched him struggle against an unseen battle.

"I am sorry," he ground out, his back still turned. "But I can’t control myself."

His breathing was ragged, his shoulders heaving.

"I want to strip you bare." His voice dropped, rough and edged with hunger. "Tie you up and fuck you till you are senseless."

Belle’s lips parted, her body stiffening at his crude confession.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as if trying to regain composure.

"Just... just stay away for now."