Page 97 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
"I want to make sweet love to you, my lady. I have wanted to do that the moment we exchanged vows," he spoke before his mouth dropped to her breasts.
She had a perfect response but she couldn't form words at his seductive torture. All she could offer were moans. The taste of his lips taking turns with her nipples and his fingers pumping into her were enough to leave her disoriented.
"Come closer. Sit on me. Ride me like I belong to you," Theo's tone turned even darker and it turned her on even more.
She obeyed, shifting even closer till she was sitting on his erection. And with a satisfied sigh, she began to move up and down him.
"Sweet Cecilia, you will be the death of me," Theo groaned before pulling her even closely and then taking control.
She felt happy tears gather around the corner of her eyes as the love of her life pounded into her.
"I think," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion and something else—something tender—"that I've never loved anything as much as I love you."
She smiled against his skin. "Even more than scandal?"
He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her. "Even more than that. Though I must say, being scandalous with you is quite the reward," he added breathlessly.
She nuzzled his neck. "I should hope so," she said before her voice faded into a moan.
They stayed like that for a while, having the most endearing moment in the bathtub.
The world outside continued on—stars in the sky, waves caressing the cliffs below—but inside that room, time had paused. Every other thing didn't matter.
Eventually, he lifted her from the water, wrapping her in a thick towel before gathering her into his arms like she weighed nothing. She stuck to him with sleepy contentment, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat.
"Carry me forever?" she murmured.
"Until I am too old to lift you," he said, brushing his nose against hers, "and even then, I'll drag you along behind me."
She laughed, soft and delighted, and he kissed the corner of her mouth.
Their bedroom was dim, a fire crackling low in the hearth. Perfect, just the way they loved it.
He placed her gently on the bed, before covering her with heavy sheets. Then he joined her on the bed.
There was nothing left to prove. No more nights to count. No more walls to tear down. No more lists to mark.
Just the quiet sound of her breath, and the way his thumb traced lazy circles against her shoulder.
And when sleep began to take over her, her fingers wrapped with his, and then she whispered one final thought,
"I don't want a perfect life, Theo. I only want ours."
He smiled into her hair and whispered back, "Then ours it shall be."
Outside, the wind kissed the windows. The moon watched in silence. And in that bed, tangled together, husband and wife, their story truly began.
And it was never anything less than extraordinary.
The End?
