Page 95 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

Then, his thrusts became faster, longer. Deeper.

And within her, she felt the climax begin to build to a wild crescendo.

She sighed. And then, she moaned.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and her hips bucked up to meet his. The burgeoning pleasure was familiar but strange at the same time. Like when he touched and licked and sucked on her butmore.

So much more.

She looked up and found his eyes closed, his brow shiny with sweat as he pounded into her. The raw pleasure on his face seemed to only heighten her own.

She did this to him, she realized. He was losing control because ofher.

And that was far more powerful than anything he could have ever done. Phoebe felt herself splinter into a million fragments as the force of her orgasm crashed down upon her.

Her back bowed off the bed as a keening cry tore from her lips. At the same time, Ethan let out a low growl, the muscles of his arms tensing as he surged into her one final time, burying himself deep inside her.

She felt a warmth spread within her as he groaned and gathered her into his arms, raining kisses on her forehead.

He murmured apologies for hurting her. Promises that it will be better the next time.

As Phoebe gazed up at him in wonder, she felt her chest expand, filling with warmth.

“So, there will be a next time?”

There was no denying it now. She belonged to him—body, heart, and soul.

Next time?

Ethan pulled back from Phoebe with a slight frown. “Of course, there will be a next time, sweetheart. Many more next times, in fact.”

“Oh, good,” she murmured, sleep creeping into her voice. “I was afraid there would not be more.”

He snorted at that. “Preposterous.”

“I’m glad you think the same way, husband.”

Husband.

He was now her husband in full, and she his wife.

The thought filled him with an inexplicable warmth, and he held her tighter. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head before sliding off the bed and ringing for the servants.

Phoebe rolled over with a slight frown. “What are you summoning the servants for?” she asked him.

“Warm water, Duchess,” he told her with a soft smile. “You will need it for the… soreness.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks darkened with a most adorable flush, and Ethan pressed another kiss to the tip of her nose before he went out to relay his instructions to the poor soul he managed to summon that night.

Fortunately, it was not some untrained chit who responded to his call that night, and taking one look at his disheveled state and his hastily tied robe, the maid simply nodded with a knowing smile. Moments later, she returned with a retinue of maids bearing buckets of hot water. After they had prepared the bath for him, they left just as quietly.

Ethan returned to the bedchamber to find Phoebe lying on his bed, her golden hair spread across his pillows like a river of gold. He took the washcloth he had soaked in warm water and began to gently wipe her inner thighs.

“Mmm…” She let out a sleepy moan, blinking blearily at him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled at her. “I had a bath prepared for us.”

“For us?” She frowned slightly.

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