Warning: smut content.
One of the Duke's arms is surrounding my waist, while the other is on my thigh. His thumb rubs my skin, so lightly and discreetly that I've barely noticed.
He's looking at me, in silence, as if he was admiring a painting. He doesn't seem intent to move, so I lean over and peck his lips.
«You're wearing underwear!» he exclaims when his hand reaches the rim of the clothes.
I chuckle, remembering that he said the same words with the same, unhappy expression.
«Is it such an obstacle?» I inquire.
«Not at all,» he shrugs. «It's just in the way, but nothing can bother me if it regards you...»
«But yesterday you weren't this convinced,» I point out. «Do you like this Duchess only when you're sober? Or are you lying about liking me at all?»
The Duke blinks a couple of times, observing my expression to find out how serious I am. Unfortunately, I'm actually sincere.