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Francesca cleared her throat. “Can we not lower the neckline?”
Two pairs of eyes turned on her at once. Francesca glanced from her wife to Madame Delacroix, who chuckled nervously at being put on the spot.
Michaela waved a hand dismissively. “Pay her no mind.”
Francesca shook her head. “No, I… I don’t think it’s necessary.”
She stepped forward to look at Michaela instead of her reflection in the mirror. Madame Delacroix sighed. “Mrs. Stirling, her bust will fill it out. Surely you wouldn’t want me to come back in a couple of weeks just for a simple alteration?”
Michaela had started showing more, and she was using it as an excuse to acquire more dresses—even though sometimes she could barely leave the room without her body betraying her.
Francesca exhaled. “I suppose not… but you’d be better for it.”
Michaela chuckled, attempting a reprimand, but her smile betrayed her. “Frannie…”
Madame Delacroix shook her head with a small smile. “She’s not wrong, but I could never take advantage of a newlywed couple. You’ll be seeing me again in a couple of months.”
Michaela hummed softly. “Ah, so you’ll take advantage of us then?”
Madame Delacroix laughed, and she and Michaela continued chatting quietly. Francesca stood with her arms crossed, and every time Michaela glanced at the mirror, her eyes flicked over to her.
After a moment, Michaela couldn’t resist. “My love… you are clouding my sunny disposition.”
Madame Delacroix turned her head, likely hiding a smile, and Francesca knew it. She muttered, “I will take a walk.”
Michaela grinned. “Come.”
Francesca closed the distance between them, coming where Michaela stood on the raised platform. Michaela hovered over her slightly, smirking. She reached out, swinging an arm around her, rubbing the back of her neck as she leaned down to kiss her.
Pulling back with a smile, Michaela said, “Out.”
Francesca pouted, sulking as she turned and walked away.
As Francesca made her way to the door, she breathed in, trying to savor Michaela’s scent as she left. She did indeed take a walk around the house to calm herself. Must every other alpha be able to look at her wife and see her breasts? Logically, she knew it was going to happen—that her chest would fill out more—but to actually face it was another matter entirely.
She had worked herself up over the thought of Michaela’s breasts so much that she had skipped bidding Madame Delacroix goodbye. It had been rather rude, but the alternative would have been far more disrespectful.
Retiring to their room, Francesca lay down, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She could hear the sound of a carriage leaving.
When Michaela finally found her, Francesca sat up to greet her. Michaela’s eyes widened, and she promptly closed the door behind her, pressing herself against it for a moment. Francesca couldn’t help the small whine that escaped her.
Michaela stepped away from the door and said, “You did not return.”
Francesca knew, just from the scent lingering in the room, that Michaela could guess exactly why she hadn’t returned—but her wife had always been keen on teasing her. Michaela stepped in front of her, and Francesca wrapped her arms around her at once.
“My love,” Michaela murmured, “you are more weary than me, and I’m the one growing a child inside of me.”
Francesca smiled, pulling back slightly. “I… I’m sorry.”
Michaela’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Aww, don’t apologize. Besides, the possessiveness… it’s kind of cute.”
“I’m not being possessive, I just don’t—”
Michaela leaned forward, bracing on her thighs. “You don’t want me on display.”
Francesca looked away, and Michaela reached out, cupping her jaw and gently steering her face toward hers. “Is that it?” she asked.
Francesca swallowed. “It’s not that, it’s just—”
“Mhmm,” Michaela murmured. “Tell me.”
Francesca exhaled and fell back. Michaela let her other hand drop to her thigh, laughing softly. “Your scent has clouded the room since I first took off my dress,” she teased.
Francesca didn’t respond, and Michaela went on, her tone playful. “I wonder what Madame Delacroix must think.”
Francesca sprang up with a soft groan, wrapping her arms around Michaela. “She’s been fitting me before I even presented! From now on, you’ll get tended to alone.”
Michaela hummed in response. “Well, who would stop me from lowering my neckline?”
Francesca pulled back, eyes narrowing to see if she was serious. Michaela leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. When she pulled back, she lingered close, resting her head on Francesca’s shoulder, pressing her nose against her neck. “Why didn’t you return?”
Francesca swallowed, hyper-aware of the path Michaela’s nose traced up her neck. “My thoughts had drifted, making my scent betray me. I thought it would be foolish to join you both again in such an enclosed space.”
Michaela hummed against her, a soft approving sound. “So considerate.”
Francesca nodded, her voice failing her as Michaela inhaled her scent, her nose pressed against Francesca’s neck. At last, Francesca managed to say, “You know we can’t do anything.”
Michaela smiled against her shoulder. “That does not mean we can’t have any fun.”
Francesca was emboldened by the suggestion. She brought her hands around Michaela, tugging at her dress.
Michaela murmured, “Though I know what your idea of fun is… so perhaps we can’t do anything after all.”
“And what’s that?”
Michaela laughed softly, cupping Francesca’s face. “Well, I wouldn’t be pregnant if you didn’t like having fun now would I?”
Francesca laughed too, finally managing to lift Michaela’s skirt. Her hands pressed to the back of her thighs, sliding higher, squeezing her ass.
Michaela drew in a deep breath, her voice catching. “You don’t deny it…”
Francesca shook her head. She could feel a small coil of heat tightening in her stomach as they pressed together. She murmured, “Do you want to sit?”
Michaela sighed softly. “I actually do. I’ve been standing for so long.”
Francesca’s fingers dug into Michaela’s ass once more before she withdrew her hands. Michaela reached for them, pulling her up, and Francesca immediately leaned down to kiss her. One hand dropped to Michaela’s stomach as she murmured, “Once we aren’t rough.”
Michaela smiled into the kiss and pulled back. “I already know where this is going,” she said, moving to step away.
Francesca stepped to the side. “Please… I need some relief.” Her eyes dipped to Michaela’s chest before looking back up, flushed.
“Telling your pregnant wife that you need relief… I’ve seen it all.”
Francesca blushed harder, stuttering, and Michaela let her ramble on for a moment before finally saying, “I’m only teasing.”
Her hands slid down Francesca’s stomach, and she whispered, “Turn around.”
Francesca opened her mouth, then quickly decided it was easier to obey. Michaela hummed approvingly. “Good girl.”
Francesca swallowed, and Michaela’s hands came to her shoulders, sliding her dress down. Francesca helped guide it over her hips, letting it fall.
Michaela leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her back. “I think I can offer you some relief,” she whispered. Her hands wrapped around Francesca, sliding down to her cock. “But… you’ll have to do something for me in return.”
Francesca brought her hands over Michaela’s, holding them tight. Michaela kissed her back again and tried to pull her hands free to undo Francesca’s corset, but Francesca held firm.
Michaela smiled against her, bowing her head to bite the strings holding Francesca’s corset together. She leaned back as far as she could, tugging it free. Francesca’s hands squeezed where they cupped Michaela’s, and Michaela could feel how Francesca strained against her undergarments as she continued to pull at the corset strings with her teeth.
After a moment, Michaela grew tired of the tugging and pushed up, biting down gently on Francesca’s shoulder. Francesca gasped and finally let go of her hands.
Michaela stepped back, and Francesca reached behind her, freeing herself from her corset and the last of her undergarments. Once bare, she turned around, hands moving frantically to strip Michaela of anything keeping them apart. When she finally pulled off Michaela’s corset, she leaned down, pressing soft kisses along her back.
Michaela didn’t linger—she started climbing onto the bed, twisting to lay back against the pillows. Francesca swallowed, gathering herself before bringing a knee up and crawling between her wife’s legs. “I want to taste you,” she murmured, her hands sliding up Michaela’s thighs.
Michaela took a moment before tearing her eyes away from between her legs. “If you wish,” she whispered, then let her eyes flick back down.
Francesca’s cock was hard, pressing upright against her belly as it leaked. She reached down, stroking herself lightly. Michaela let out a shaky breath, spreading her legs wider, her scent filling the space around Francesca. Lowering herself to her stomach, Francesca positioned herself between Michaela’s legs. She pressed her lips to her wife’s thigh, trailing kisses and nips upward, grinding slightly against the bed.
Finally, Francesca turned her attention to Michaela’s pussy, seeing how wet she was. She breathed her in, dragging her tongue upward before circling back to suck gently at her entrance, where she leaked the most. Wrapping her arms around Michaela’s legs, Francesca pressed her tongue deep. Michaela began to whine above her, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, completely undone by Francesca’s ministrations.
Keeping her eyes on Michaela, Francesca focused on her clit, sucking hard. Michaela’s legs pressed together, and she gasped. Francesca hummed and returned to licking at all the wetness leaking from her, drawing out another shuddered gasp.
“Frannie, please,” Michaela whimpered.
Francesca smiled, reaching up to squeeze a hand clenched in the sheets. She licked back up, wrapping her mouth around Michaela’s clit. Michaela’s hips canted against her mouth, desperate for more, and Francesca had to press a hand against her wife’s hip to keep her steady.
Michaela tasted exquisite, and Francesca closed her eyes, grinding gently against the bed.
Soon, Michaela’s moans echoed off the walls as she came, every sound amplified in the quiet room. Francesca continued pressing her tongue into Michaela’s entrance until she heard her choke out, “Frannie… ughhh.”
Francesca pulled back, and Michaela’s legs went limp, splaying to the side, exposing her beautifully. Francesca slid a hand down her stomach toward her cock, watching her wife catch her breath. She took in the way Michaela’s breasts spilled to the side, the gentle curve of her belly round with their child, and how wet she was, glistening down to the curve of her ass.
Michaela finally opened her eyes, smiling when she saw where Francesca’s hand rested. She raised an eyebrow, and Francesca returned the smile, removing her hand and crawling up to lie beside her.
Michaela turned to her, pulling her into a tender kiss. Francesca reached for her hand and guided it around her cock. Michaela smiled into the kiss, wrapping her fingers around her, and Francesca sagged with relief at the feel of her omega’s touch. She brought her hand over Michaela’s, moving in a sort of stupor as her hand pumped over her.
Michaela leaned in again to kiss her, and Francesca pulled her hand away and wrapped it around her, pressing into the small of her back to draw her closer. She let her hand slide lower, cupping Michaela’s ass, fingers pressing in.
“Someone’s handsy today,” Michaela teased, pulling back slightly.
Francesca blushed and murmured, “All the talk of your neckline…”
Michaela laughed, and Francesca smiled, though her chest heaved with her current state.
“Is that so?” Michaela asked, tilting her head.
Francesca nodded and moved to lay flat, thrusting up into Michaela’s hand. Michaela followed, turning to keep her hand in place.
“I’ll keep mine where they are if you lower yours,” she whispered, leaning down to take a nipple into her mouth.
Francesca arched slightly off the bed. “Okay… ahh,” she groaned as Michaela bit down.
Michaela took in the way Francesca’s eyebrows were drawn together, her chest heaving. She sat up and murmured, “I thought we were having fun.”
Francesca looked over, then with a sudden burst of energy swung herself over her. Michaela laughed, looking up at her, and said, “Is this your definition of not rough?”
Francesca smiled, dropping her head to rub their noses together. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
Michaela smirked and whispered, “I know you.”
Francesca’s smile widened. “Yet you still got in bed with me, did you not?”
Michaela huffed, squirming under her. “You can be very convincing.”
Francesca grinned. “I think you told me the same thing when you first took my knot.”
Michaela tried to push her away but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at her lips.
Francesca grinned and snuggled against Michaela, careful not to rest her full weight on her. “Such a good omega,” Francesca murmured, lips brushing Michaela’s neck before biting down lightly. Michaela inhaled sharply, a soft gasp escaping her, and Francesca continued down to her collarbone, then to her chest, where she sat up slightly, cupping Michaela’s breast. She leaned down, sucking on a nipple before moving to the other.
“Come here,” Michaela said, her voice husky. Francesca looked up, mouth still wrapped around a nipple, and Michaela smiled. “Let me help you.”
Francesca smiled in return and rolled onto her side, letting Michaela settle beside her, and Michaela leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. Michaela’s hands reached down, wrapping around Francesca’s cock. “Look at you… leaking,” she murmured, sliding her fingers up to the tip before bringing two of them to her mouth and sucking. She glanced at Francesca and winked before reaching back down.
Francesca swooned, collapsing back flat against the bed.
Michaela laughed softly. “There we go.”
Francesca wrapped a hand around Michaela, pulling her nearer, and murmured between ragged breaths, “So good…” She wasn’t much for talking at the height of her pleasure, usually giving herself over to soft whimpers and moans—but something came over her. She mumbled, “Such a good omega… my omega…”
With a gasp, Francesca arched off the bed and came, her cum spurting across her stomach as Michaela continued working her hand over her, coaxing every last drop from her trembling body. She collapsed backward, practically boneless, and Michaela kept slow, teasing strokes until Francesca’s cock softened. She leaned over, tracing a finger through the mess across Francesca’s abs, then wiped her hand on Francesca’s thigh before settling beside her.
Francesca murmured, “And… was that not fun?”
Michaela hummed thoughtfully, her lips curling in a sly smile. “I’m not quite sure. Maybe you can go back between my legs, and I can decide.”
“I think you’re the convincing one.”
“You think? I’m more than convincing, and you of all people should know that.”
Their eyes met, and Francesca felt her cheeks heat. She glanced away, flustered. Michaela laughed softly, shaking her head. “I love you so much… ugh, you get so flustered even now.”
Her gaze drifted downward, catching sight of Francesca already twitching again. She bit her lip, trying not to smile too widely, and when Francesca finally took hold of herself and looked over, she caught the expression on Michaela’s face.
She sat up, clearing her throat, and gestured toward her stomach. “I should clean up,” she said, practically gulping as she scrambled off the bed.
“Aww, don’t go.”
Francesca glanced back, hesitating. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”
Michaela pushed herself up onto her elbows, smiling softly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
Francesca nodded and turned back around. She glanced at Michaela again and said, “Seeing you like this… always has a way of…” She took a breath, then finished, “working me up.”
“Is that so, huh? I thought maybe you didn’t want me to lower my necklines because you wanted me all to yourself. Turns out… you were just trying to protect yourself.”
Francesca’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away.
Michaela leaned closer. “Is that it, Mrs. Stirling? Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself if I lower my necklines?”
Francesca sank back onto the bed, forgetting the faint trail of cum dripping down her stomach. “No… I just… your body hasn’t changed enough to need alterations right this second.”
Michaela hummed unconvinced. “And if another alpha’s eyes were to wander at a ball?”
Francesca gave a small, wry smile. “Your feet are too sore for us to attend balls right now.”
Michaela raised an eyebrow, amused.
Francesca tried again. “No other alpha is in contact with you.”
“Exactly,” Michaela said, and Francesca realized she had just contradicted herself. She turned fully to face her, suddenly at a loss for words.
Michaela’s eyebrow lifted expectantly, and Francesca crawled up the bed, breathless. “I’ve never been able to control myself around you… even more so now.” She brought a hand to her belly, covering the curve protectively.
“So I must suffer because my alpha has no restraint?”
Francesca rolled her eyes and leaned in to kiss her. Michaela smiled into it, lifting a hand to Francesca’s cheek. Francesca pulled back, and Michaela said, “I’m lowering them.”
Francesca sighed, rubbing her hand across her belly. “I can’t be around you when you wear those dresses.”
“Oh really?” Michaela laughed softly, her eyes sweeping over Francesca’s face, then down between them, where she was once again hard. She swallowed. “Scared you might do something… reprehensible.”
Francesca nodded.
“Like what?” Michaela asked, leaning in to kiss her softly before murmuring, “Take me during a ball. Pull down my dress and press your face to my breast.”
Francesca swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t put it past myself.”
Michaela hummed. “Well… now I have to lower them.”
Francesca pressed her eyes shut. “You irritate me.”
Michaela just smiled, and Francesca’s hand slipped down from her belly, sliding back between her legs. Michaela gasped.
“You would make me out to be a degenerate,” Francesca murmured, “and yet here you are… soaked.” She swiped her fingers upward, then pulled her hand back, holding it between them. Michaela looked away, a smug smile on her face.
Francesca brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them, then pulled them out. “You can at least take my fingers.”
Michaela looked back, and before she could even respond, Francesca’s hand was back between her legs, sliding over her clit and pressing in. Michaela gasped, her hips shifting into the touch.
Francesca leaned closer, curling her fingers inside her. “Touch me,” she breathed.
Michaela spread her legs wider, giving her access, and then reached down, wrapping her hand around Francesca’s cock. She tried to keep a steady pace, but Francesca’s fingers inside her made that nearly impossible.
Francesca groaned softly, murmuring, “I can’t wait to be inside you again…” Her hips pressed closer, and she gasped, “To knot you…” Francesca leaned in, her lips brushing Michaela’s as she murmured, “My wife.”
Michaela pushed up to kiss her, but her hand stilled for just a moment, and Francesca growled softly, “Don’t stop, please.”
Michaela resumed, moving her hand as instructed, how she managed it while Francesca’s fingers curled deep inside her was beyond her. She swiped a finger over Francesca’s tip, slid her hand back down to the base, and then squeezed on the way up. Francesca gasped, fingers curling even as her movements faltered.
Michaela continued, squeezing as she moved her hand up and down. When Francesca’s mouth opened in a small whimper, Michaela kept her focus on the tip, and soon Francesca shook slightly, shuddering as she came, her cum shooting across Michaela’s thigh. Michaela groaned softly, clenching around the fingers buried inside her.
Francesca heaved a breath, her cock still pumping out cum. Michaela let go, and Francesca’s cock twitched, slapping against her stomach as the rest of her release dripped down. Michaela felt her clit pulse, and Francesca’s fingers moved again.
“This is where I should be finishing,” Francesca breathed, a hint of annoyance in her tone. Michaela couldn’t help but laugh—and the moment her laughter spilled out, she gasped as Francesca’s fingers sped up, pressing deeper into her.
“No more laughing.”
“God—” Michaela gasped, and Francesca murmured, “Just focus on my fingers.”
Michaela swallowed, feeling her ears warm. She had a love–hate relationship for when Francesca got like this.
“I know your pinnacle is close,” Francesca whispered. Michaela hummed in agreement, unable to form words, pouring all her energy into a single sound.
Francesca smiled. “You’ll reach it around my fingers.” She brought her thumb up to brush against Michaela’s clit. Michaela arched her back, pressing a hand to her swollen belly as her whole body tensed.
“Such a good omega,” Francesca praised, and Michaela pressed her eyes shut, trembling as she came, clenching around Francesca’s skilled fingers. Francesca pulled her hand free, rubbing Michaela’s clit fast as her moans grew louder, echoing across the room—surely audible all the way to Grosvenor Square. Her release gushed over Francesca’s hand, and she spread her legs wider, spasming on the bed. It was almost too much… and not enough at the same time.
Francesca glanced at her with a smile and finally stilled her hand—but kept it pressed against her. Michaela ground herself against her hand, and Francesca’s eyes widened. She moved her hand and murmured, “Insatiable?”
Michaela chuckled and dropped back, pressing her legs together as the stimulation coursed through her. “The bed is ruined,” she said breathlessly.
Francesca glanced between them and smiled. “Anywhere is perfect with you.”
Michaela returned her smile. “You’re so sweet… but I’m not sleeping here.”
Francesca laughed lightly. “I’ll ready a room while this one is sought after.”
Michaela nodded, and Francesca cleared her throat. Michaela looked at her fully, frowning slightly at Francesca’s sudden silence. Francesca’s gaze flicked down between them, then back up, a subtle gesture of her eyes prompting Michaela to look down and immediately away.
“My hand aches from that angle.”
“I can go on your other side,” Francesca offered.
Michaela looked over, bewildered. “Is your rut upon us?”
Francesca blushed. “It’s not my rut, just—” She gestured toward where Michaela had squirted, then said, “How can I not be hard?”
Michaela studied her for a moment, then slowly spread her legs. “Come.”
“Mich—”
“Come.”
Nodding, Francesca crawled forward, settling between Michaela’s legs. When she knelt there, Michaela spread herself wide, looking up at her.
Francesca gulped and murmured, “You know we can’t—”
“I never said anything about penetration,” Michaela interrupted. “Simply relieve yourself.”
Francesca nodded, though her expression betrayed that she didn’t fully understand. Her hand began moving on its own, trailing down her stomach and over the light patch of hair. She wrapped her hand around her cock, sitting back on her heels, and murmured, “The bed really is wet.”
Michaela laughed, bringing her hands up over her own stomach and cupping her breasts. Francesca let out a small whimper, watching her, and whispered, “You are so beautiful.” Her eyes flicked back up to Michaela’s, who winked in return.
Francesca smiled, letting her gaze drift lower again. She swallowed as her hand moved around her cock. Inch by inch, she shifted up on the bed, reaching out to touch Michaela’s leg.
“I’m not going to last very long.”
Michaela smiled, licking her lips. “I can tell. Come for me, Frannie.”
Francesca let her head fall back, staring up at the ceiling. She gasped as she came, spilling all over Michaela. She leaned forward slightly, aiming herself so her cum would drip down over her wife. From this angle, she could see Michaela clenching around nothing.
Francesca heaved, doubling over and bracing herself on Michaela’s thigh. After a moment, she looked up and asked, “Is that what you wanted?”
Michaela gasped. “I just wanted to give you a better angle… and you decided to finish all over me.”
Francesca was quiet for a moment, weighing the possibility that she might have misread the moment entirely. Then she caught Michaela’s smile and shook her head. Crawling up the bed, she murmured, “It seems we need a bath now.”
Michaela hummed, tilting her head. “It would appear so. I was perfectly clean before you came in.”
Francesca cut her off with a kiss. Michaela huffed, trying to suppress a smile. “Now you don’t even want to face what you did. You Bridgertons…”
Francesca laughed. “I am not a Bridgerton anymore, I’ll have you know. And I might as well be as much of a Bridgerton as you are.”
Michaela looked up at her and brought a hand to her jaw, tilting her head down slightly. “At your core, you are a Bridgerton,” she said softly. “Me, on the other hand…” She gave a small shrug. “I’m a Stirling.”
Francesca hummed, a dopey smile spreading across her face. She leaned down, kissing her again, and murmured against her lips, “I’ll run you a bath, Mrs. Stirling.”
Michaela laughed and slapped her arm as Francesca pulled back.
“Well, which is it?” Francesca asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you a Stirling or a Bridgerton?”
Michaela brought her arms around her, smirking. “What’s it to you?”
Francesca leaned in. “I need to know if I should bend a knee again.”
Michaela smirked, bringing her hand to Francesca’s cheek. “I’ll never stop you from going on your knees.”
Francesca groaned, pulling away, and Michaela laughed out loud.
“I’ll fetch a maid,” Francesca said, moving to get dressed.
Michaela tried to catch her breath, managing, “Get me a towel…” before Francesca opened the door.