The Duke and I - Post Episode 8 stories

Drunken Balls

After a busy few weeks between the celebration of Belinda's 3rd birthday in April, and Adam's 4th birthday in May, Daphne was more than thrilled to be attending Lady Danbury's ball with Simon, the first of the season this year. They had arrived at Hastings house in London just a few days ago, because as much as they loved their Bridgerton family, they relinquished in having their own home to stay in. Well, mostly Daphne and Simon did, because it was already hard enough to be intimate with two children and staff, let alone the entire family. Whereas their children would adore spending every second at grandma Bridgerton's house, no doubt a result of the various sweets and gifts she donned them. Simon had proposed that the children stay at the Bridgerton house tonight during Lady Danbury's ball, as Gregory and Hyacinth would not be attending and could keep them company.
As Daphne prepared herself for tonight's events with Rose in her old bedroom at Bridgerton house, she felt a chill rush down her spine. Her courses had finished two days ago, meaning they were finally able to lose themselves in one another, an activity that had become much more intense in the past few weeks as Simon was now able to pour himself inside her. A feeling neither would tire of, especially for Simon. He loved releasing himself inside her, giving her all of him as two halves became one in overwhelming sensations. They had recently agreed to trying for another baby, much to Simon's request, and Daphne's shock. If Daphne were to be honest, she was quite enjoying their life as it was right now. But she too also wanted a larger family, and knew how important it was for Simon to experience this as he grew up with none. Alas, she had agreed, and God was she thankful to have done so. His touches left her skin scorching, every touch burning her insides for more. The week of her courses had been painful, as Daphne urged for his touch, and their desires drove them wild as they had to abstain from anything more than kisses. As if their kisses were merely just kisses and not the catalyst to set afire to their flame.
Daphne snuck at glance at herself in the mirror, and smiled at the person she saw. Although she was older, she still looked as she did the night she prepared herself for that dreaded ball when the prince was going to propose. Although her breasts were larger, offering more of themselves to be shown off thanks to her corset, and the children she carried. Her dress was emerald green, an ode to the brooch Simon wore for his mother. Unlike most of her dresses, this one was long sleeved, with lace and sparkles spanning from the shoulder to the buttoned cuff at her wrist. It hugged her waist line, extenuating her small frame, while the skirt flowed closer to her body than her casual dresses. Her hair was loose, curls pooling over her shoulders. Daphne couldn't help it, she felt attractive. While Simon had always made her aware of her beauty, it was not often she felt this good about herself. Daphne wondered if it was even socially acceptable to look this way, and considered changing.
A knock at the door made her jump, since she had been debating internally over the dress and lost her focus for a moment.

"Sorry, I will just be a moment" she called out, smoothing her dress once more in the mirror.
Simon entered the room, speaking casually as he said "We should-" but faltered, stopping dead in his tracks. In the mirror, Daphne caught sight of him. His mouth was open slightly, his eyes running wildly all over her, and his breath halted. Daphne had to remind herself to breathe, but that was nearly impossible when he looked at her that way. She flushed, and tore her gaze from his, fiddling with the buttons on her cuff as her hands shook.

Simon was instantly behind her, his arms cradling themselves around her waist, squeezing her closer to him as he kissed her neck, his hot breath mimicking the heat of her skin.

Simon murmured against her neck, "Stop, I know what that mind of yours is thinking. You look like the very definition of grace," he planted a kiss, "Sexy," and another, "Beautiful," and one more. Daphne shuddered, her bottom lip quivering. She burned for him, this very instant.

"You leave me breathless, as usual my love. Now remember what I told you, life is not meant to be lived in fear of judgement. Besides, you are a Duchess, you can bloody well do and wear whatever you like," he whispered against her jaw.