Page 110 of The Duke's Sinful Bride

Before she could respond, He gently cupped her neck, his fingers threading through her hair as he guided her lips to his.

The kiss started tenderly, a gentle meeting of lips that spoke of their deep affection. But quickly, the kiss grew more passionate, more demanding. Killian’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together.

With a groan, Killian pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. He looked into Yvette’s eyes, seeing the same desire mirrored there.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands already working on the buttons of her dress. “I’ll do everything.”

He tried to be gentle as he undressed her, his fingers trembling with the effort. But his need for her was too great, and he found himself moving faster, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, her shoulders, her chest.

Each piece of clothing he removed was replaced with a kiss, his mouth worshipping her body.

Yvette’s breath hitched as he continued his ministrations, her hands clutching at his shoulders for support. She felt a shiver of anticipation running through her as he laid her down on the bed, his eyes dark with desire.

Killian joined her, his hands and mouth never leaving her body. He took his time, exploring every inch of her, making her moan and writhe beneath him. When he finally entered her, it was with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his need.

They moved together, their bodies finding a rhythm that spoke of their deep connection. Their moans filled the room, mingling with whispered declarations of love.

“I love you,” Killian murmured against her lips, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you,” Yvette replied, her hands clutching at his back as they reached their peak together. The world seemed to explode around them, their love and passion consuming them completely.

As they lay together in the aftermath, their bodies entwined, Killian pressed a gentle kiss to Yvette’s forehead.

“I’ll never let go of you,” he whispered once more, his heart filled with a love that would never fade.

And Yvette, her heart equally full, whispered back.

“Never let go of me.”

EPILOGUE

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Are you that excited for your father’s return?” Yvette asked, her gaze soft as she looked at the overly excited Maisie, who nodded eagerly, her bright eyes glued to the window.

Fiona sat nearby, watching Maisie’s infectious enthusiasm with a fond smile. The little girl was practically bouncing in her seat, as though her excitement could scarcely be contained.

Yvette smiled too, her heart aching slightly. She couldn’t blame Maisie for her anticipation—Yvette shared the same feeling.

Killian had been away for nearly a month, overseeing the reconstruction of Oakbourne townhouse in London, the longest time he’d spent away from them since their return to Braemore after the fire. Six months had passed since that terrifying night, and the ache of his absence hadn’t dulled one bit.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Yvette said more to herself than to Maisie, her words a comfort she hoped to believe.

And then, as if her words were magic, Maisie’s voice rang out, high-pitched and filled with excitement.

“Over there, Mama! Papa has returned!” Maisie squealed, her small feet already rushing toward the door before Yvette had even noticed the lone figure on horseback approaching the gates of Braemore Castle.

Yvette’s heart skipped a beat, and she smiled to herself as she followed Maisie, feeling a warmth spread through her chest.

She reached the grand entrance doors just as Killian dismounted from his horse. Without missing a beat, he scooped Maisie into his arms, lifting her high with a laugh, and she wrapped her small arms around his neck, giggling with pure joy.

Yvette stood still for a moment, watching them. Her heart swelled in her chest, and then her feet moved of their own accord. She couldn’t wait any longer to hold him, to feel him close after what felt like an eternity apart.

When Killian saw her, his face lit up, and in the blink of an eye, he released Maisie, dropping her gently to the ground before striding to Yvette with long, determined steps.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her waist and sank his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply as though her scent was the very air of which he had been deprived.

“Christ! I’ve missed ye,” Killian muttered against her skin, his voice rough with emotion.

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