Only in Paris
Sitting on the wide window still, staring out into the Paris night, Duchess was worried. As a mother of three mischievous children, one would say she always worried. But it wasn't the children, who were in bed at home with Madame. She was worried about Thomas O'Malley, the love of her life and the light in her children's.
He hasn't done anything bad per say. The exact opposite in fact. He was so good. Picking flowers for Madame, helping the children with their studies to the best of his abilities, treating her like she was the single most important thing in his arms… he was a good man. Her blue eyes gently watch the love of her life snore on the beaten up mattress, arms and legs spread out across it. He kept the pad for Scat and the gang on the nights that they needed a place to stay or for the moments where he needed to get away from upper class society. And that was why she was worried.
Tomorrow a friend of Madame was hosting a small party and all of them were invited. There were going to other members of the higher class present, including him, and she was worried about how they -he- would react to Thomas. He wasn't rich or influential in the upper circles. He was rough around the edges in his beaten up trousers and suspenders, shirt sleeves rolled up passed the elbow so he could wrestle with Toulouse and Berlioz, and sometimes, much more gently, Marie (at one point she might have protested, but they all looked so happy and she couldn't bring herself to break that). With callous hands and a loose smile or smirk and a sharp mind, Thomas did not play along with any social or political games.
The upper class was filled with vicious people that would gladly start tearing into the big, ginger haired man as soon as they lay eyes on him. And Duchess, despite knowing that Thomas didn't care about what anyone had to say about him (her, Madame, and the children were a different story), didn't want to put the gentle man through that. She loves him too much to allow people that just didn't matter to plunge his name into scandal and ruin. Goodness knows she herself has enough of that- stories of about her and her children's birth were still whispered well within her ear shot. Stories about how Madame supposedly wanted to get rid of the children and her (an absolute lie that Madame had no problem in correcting harshly and coldly) were murmured.
"I be darned- an angel in my window."
Duchess turned her head, finding Thomas awake and up on his elbows, the light sheet slipping down to pool around his waist, revealing his tone chest. She smiled at his flirting before slipping down to walk over to the man. "Did I wake you, Darling?"
Thomas cupped her wrist as she sat down on the bed, kissing the inside of it. "Well, yeah. You weren't here." Thick fingers gently tugged the edge of the shirt- his shirt- that she was wearing. "Loving the new dress, Baby." She giggled like a little girl as she was pulled down to lay across his chest. Big hands softly rubbed her back while a kiss was pressed to her light blonde, almost white, hair.
"What's troubling you, Babe?" A finger pressed itself against her lips just as she opened her mouth to answer, to lie. She didn't want to worry Thomas. "And don't tell me nothing. Something's bothering you." Duchess smiled around the finger that she nipped playfully before leaning up to press a kiss to Thomas's lips. He eagerly kissed her back, slowly and gently, large hands cupping her face. At social gatherings, Duchess would hear other women complain about how timidly or distantly or roughly their men would kiss them. How it felt as though they weren't worthy of being kissed or they weren't even human, let alone women.
But Thomas was different. He kissed her like she was the very air that he breathed. He kissed confidently but not too harshly. He kissed her as an equal. And it was all so perfect, all so much better than them.
They broke apart, and Duchess could help the soft laughter that spilled from her throat at Thomas's awestruck, and goofy, grin. Her smile slowly fell as she ran her fingers down his cheek. "I'm worried about the party tomorrow." His eyebrows rose in confusion, and she elaborated. "I'm worried about what people are going to say about you." His eyes, always soft with her family, smiled and he pressed a kiss to her head.
"I don't care what they say about me. Nothing that I haven't heard before. Now, they say anything about you or the kids, that's a different story." She shook her head at the expected answer, cupping unshaved cheeks.
"It's not as if I'm free of scandal and gossip either, Love."
Thomas's eyes hardened and he brought her head closer to his, pressing their foreheads together. "What do you mean?" She sighed.
"It's very complicated."
The man loosened his hold so she could sit up on his chest, her hands sprayed over his heart. He was quiet, thumbs rubbing her wrists, waiting for her to speak. "I was engaged to a man once. He was financially stable but cold and distant to me, it was as though I was a merely a prize and a way to Madame's fortune. When we were in bed, he wouldn't be concerned about me, only him." She sighed. "We became so distant that, one night when we were in the country with Madame, I went out and found them."
Duchess started to draw on Thomas's chest, her eyes cast down. "They were two country brothers who were looking for a good time. In my young foolishness, I took them up on their offer." She bitterly chuckled,
"It was sex in the most primal form. When the children were born, it was obvious that only Marie was my finance's. He left, disgusted that I refused to give up the boys. Madame was my saving grace- she understood why I did what I did and refused to let the doctor take the boys away. Since then, though, stories of my adultery have been whispered and talked about in front of me and behind me."
Thomas pulled her back down to his chest and rocked her. "I supposed the adultery was a good thing then." She looked up at him and his smiling face. "You got three swell kids and I was able to get you." He pecked her mouth, pressing her hand against the middle of his chest, feel the beating of his heart.
"You do this to me, Duchess. Even when you are just sitting, my heart starts to beat like crazy. I love you, every single part of you. And if someone wants to try to dishonor you or the kids, I will have no choice but to knock some respect back into them."
She laughed, "That was quite corny, my Love."
He grinned, "But you love me."
"That I do. More than any man."
They kissed again, Duchess giggling when Thomas rolled them over so he could gently pin her to the mattress. He leaned over the side of the bed, searching for something. His hand slid into his pant pockets, looking until, with a quiet 'ah', he pulled his hand back. "I was hoping to make this romantic but plans change." His palm opened, revealing a simple gold band. "Duchess, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
Tears welled up in her blue eyes as she kissed him, arms tight around his neck. "Yes!" Thomas grinned like the silly fool that he was and slipped the ring onto her slim finger. Their kisses became hotter, yet still so gentle and soft. The ginger man looked at her with wonder in his eyes and asked against her mouth, "May I make love to you?"
Duchess blushed pink and said, "Yes." Thomas kissed down her throat and across her shoulder, her collar bone. His fingers nimbly unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing, pushing it off her before taking off the sleeping pants he was wearing. Pressing their skin- his' rough and hers' soft- he kissed down her chest to her breasts. She moaned and tilted her head back when he slipped one of her pale pink nipples into his mouth, fingers rubbing against the other.
His tongue rolled the nipple as teeth pressed against it till it was hard. He then switched and gave the same treatment to its' twin. Her fingers became entwined in his hair and tugged, her breath coming out as gasps and soft pants. Thomas pressed her breasts together, running his tongue across her nipples, breath creating goosebumps on her skin. He kissed down her belly, tongue dipping and blowing into her bellybutton- she giggled at the tickling before gasping and arching her back impossibly up at the feeling of his tongue between her legs.
Broad hands held her hips as his tongue slipped in and out of her, mouth suckling her privates. Duchess's hands grabbed and pulled on his hair, keening and meowing. Never have she ever experienced something like this- hot yet gentle- before, let alone with the three previous men in her life. The spring inside of her belly kept tightening, pulling tighter and tighter at the addition of thick fingers gently probing her folds before slipping inside of her. "T-Thomas!"
"I got you, Baby."
The spring snapped. Fire coursed through her veins as waves of pleasure rode on her orgasm. And through it all, Thomas kept licking at her, fingers thrusting in and out of her. On the heels of her first orgasm came a second on, and then a third. She dug her nails into her Love's scalp, tugging at his hair. Thomas released her and leaned back, looking at her- flush and sweaty and loose limbed.
"You're beautiful," he breathed out, a hand brushing away her bangs. The "alley cat" gently lifted her up onto his lap, his erection- angry and red- poking at you. "Ready?" Duchess kissed him, pushing him around so he could lie against the pillows, and sat down on the hot piece of flesh. The pair moaned at the connection. The woman started to gentle rock and roll her hip, moving up and down. Her hands slid up her thighs, her hips, cupping her own breasts, slim fingers pinching red nipples.
Thomas groaned at the show, hands back on her hips, merely there to help her keep her pace. "Killing me here, Babe." She smiled, clutched around him, drawing a moan from him, as she slid a hand down to touch herself. Thomas's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Duchess pressed a kiss to his mouth, still playing with herself.
"Make love to me, Thomas."
The man wasted no time in flipping them around, pressing her to the mattress, hands grabbing her hips as he thrust into her, deep and slow. Duchess moaned and grabbed his back, arms under his, nails scratching down his back. Their gasps and moans, to her ears, was the most beautiful, precious song. The slid of their slicken bodies was heaven. The well-worn spring inside of her belly was on the verge of snapping, laying inside of her in broken pieces. "P-Please T-Thomas…"
Thick, rough fingers pressed against her as he thrust deeply one more time, breaking the spring inside of her. She let out a breathless gasp as her orgasm ripped through her as Thomas kept moving inside of her slowly. Duchess leaned up to press a kiss to his ear, breathing into his ear, "Let go." He- and she- groaned as his release flooded her body. They stay connected like that for a few minutes, just soaking up the warmth and comfort. Thomas propped himself onto his elbows and smiled at her.
"You're a tease."
She blushed but said, "No I'm not."
He raised an eyebrow, "That show of yours says otherwise."
Duchess slapped his behind.
Thomas wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She laughed, knowing that everything would be okay.