Page 90 of The Duke's Sinful Bride

Yvette’s breath hitched as his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss, filled with passion and unspoken emotion.

“Killian…” she whispered when they broke apart, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I can’t lose ye,” he said, his voice rough. “Not to them, not to anyone. Ye’re mine, Yvette.”

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him closer, her heart pounding with anticipation and nervousness, feeling herself melting into Killian’s kisses.

His lips, tender yet insistent, moved over hers with a fervor that made her knees weak. His hands, warm and possessive, roamed over her body, igniting a trail of fire wherever they touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” Killian whispered against her mouth, his breath hot and tantalizing. The words sent a shiver down herspine, making her feel cherished and desired in a way she had never known before. With a deftness that spoke of experience, he began to peel her dress from her body, the fabric slipping away to reveal her bare skin.

Guiding her to the bed, Killian’s eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel both exposed and exhilarated. He gently spread her legs, and Yvette’s initial shyness made her cheeks burn with a blush. Sensing her hesitation, Killian paused, his hands soothing and reassuring.

“It’s perfectly normal to feel this way,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within her. “I hunger for ye, Yvette. I want ye, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

His words, filled with raw honesty and desire, helped to ease her nerves.

She nodded, giving him a small, tentative smile. Encouraged, Killian parted her legs once more, his head lowering to the apex of her thighs. The first touch of his mouth against her sex sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she gasped, her hands clutching at the sheets.

The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Killian’s tongue moved with expert precision, exploring her with a hunger that left her breathless. Her moans filled the room, growing louder as the pleasure built within her. She writhed beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensations, until finally, with a cry, she found her release.

Killian rose, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself above her. The connection between them felt deeper, more intimate than ever before. As he entered her, each thrust was slow and deliberate, a testament to the profound bond they shared. Every movement felt personal, a silent confession of the love and passion that had grown between them.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, the rhythm of their lovemaking building to a crescendo. With a final, shuddering thrust, they both reached their peaks, their cries of pleasure mingling in the stillness of the night.

For the first time that night, Killian didn’t leave when it was over. Instead, he held her, their breaths mingling as they drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Lachlan’s hideout was every bit of what a hideout typically was. Maps, documents, and hastily scrawled notes were scattered across the table.

Killian leaned over the table, his jaw clenched as his sharp eyes scanned the latest report Lachlan had gathered.

“This name keeps appearing,” Lachlan said, tapping a page. “Lord Finnley. Word is, he’s been seen in places where gossip brews fastest.”

Killian’s expression darkened, his fingers curling into fists. “If he’s the one who spread filth about my family, he’ll regret it.”

Lachlan smirked.

“Easy, my friend. We don’t want to act without proof.”

Killian straightened, his broad shoulders taut.

“I’m not in the habit of waiting for proof when my family’s reputation is still being talked about in ballrooms. Let’s find this man and confront him.”

“Why don’t I dig in deeper before we confront him?”

“I shall give you two days then.”

“Hardly enough time. Make it four.”

Killian considered it for a few minutes before he nodded.

When Killian returned home, he was greeted by an unexpected sound—laughter, light and melodic, filtering through the doors of the parlor. Curious, he followed the sound and paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

Fiona, Yvette, and Maisie were seated around the low tea table, their smiles wide as they chatted with none other than the baron who’d been around his sister in the past weeks.

Merrick was speaking animatedly, gesturing with a kind of youthful enthusiasm that clearly delighted Fiona.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright as she laughed at something he said. Even Maisie seemed captivated, giggling as Hugh offered her a delicate pastry from the tray.

---