Chapter 36

Home At Last

Walford Estate, London

Beatrice waited patiently in the Duke’s bed. She listened to the sounds in the house. Everyone else would likely be asleep, except possibly for Elizabeth and Hannah.

Hannah had opted to stay for the night, and Beatrice and the Duke had left both girls in the drawing room talking animatedly about the Season.

The Duke had snuck out to enact their plan while Beatrice remained in the room. She was thankful for the note that Sally had passed to her, warning her of Agnes’s plan.

It paid to be a decent person.

There was a noise from outside, and Beatrice thought she saw a shadow pass under the door. She pulled the blankets up to her neck—below, she was completely naked.

The door swung open, and the Duke stood on the threshold.

Beatrice felt her insides melt at the sight of him.

He stepped into the room, closed the door behind him, and smiled.

“Is it done?” she asked.

“It is done,” he confirmed. “You should have seen her face when she realized she fell into her own trap. It could not have gone any better if we had planned it for a month.”

“What will happen to her?”

“I don’t know for sure, but she will not bother us anymore. Between what happened at the ball and the revelations at the tavern, her reputation is ruined. She has nothing to attack us with, and even if she did, no one would believe her.”

“Is it possible to both feel glad for someone’s demise and pity them for it?” Beatrice asked.

“Yes, I believe it is. She would’ve fared a lot better if she had not gone after you, but she could not let it rest,” the Duke said. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. Let’s not think of Miss Jennings for quite some time. I believe we have unfinished business.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Beatrice asked coyly. “I have become cold lying in this bed alone.”

Edwin stripped down as quickly as he could. He tossed his coat, shirt, and trousers over the chair. Then, he removed his drawers and threw them onto the floor.

Beatrice stared at the man who was now fully hers. He was majestic, standing in the middle of the room with tree-trunk legs, broad shoulders ready to command, and a muscular frame ready to pleasure her and make her succumb to his whims. Yet, what mattered more than all of that was his ability to protect and love her.

Beatrice lifted the blankets, feeling a slight chill for a second as the Duke slipped in beside her, but it disappeared a moment later when his naked body pressed against hers. His warmth seeped into her, and it soon turned into a burning passion.

Beatrice wanted to claw at him, but she also wanted to take it slow. They had been intimate before, but this time was different—it was more real. She wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. For now, she just wanted to feel his warmth. She had to make sure he was really there with her.

“It feels like a long time ago now, but do you remember when I told you I would not beg you to stay on the estate?” the Duke asked.

“I remember,” Beatrice replied. She could smell his musk and a hint of bergamot on his skin. “And I was a fool to get up and leave because you would not grovel in front of me. I was naive.”

“Perhaps, but I was wrong,” Edwin told her. “I should have begged you to stay that day, and I should have begged you every day after that. I should have begged you to come home. I was afraid of where it would lead, and that makes me a fool.”

“No, you are no fool, my love. You don’t need to beg me to stay. I am not going anywhere else ever again, and that is a promise. We needed this time apart to realize what we mean to each other.”

“I needed the time, and perhaps a dose of reality from Mother, to understand that I can’t keep pushing against who my father was. I need to be more like him, and I need to love you, and I will beg you to never leave. I would get down on my knees right now and beg.”

Beatrice kissed his chest. “You will never have to, but I might like to see it.”

Her head moved with his chest as he laughed. She turned her head so that her ear was right over his heart and listened to the steady beats.

“I still can’t believe what you did at the ball,” she continued. “I was so sure you were about to ask for a divorce and marry Miss Jennings. She thought it, too.”

“I had to keep up the ruse with her, but I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

“And I was too stubborn,” Beatrice added.

Edwin kissed the top of her head. “It is one of your best qualities, and you must never change it. I would not have you any other way.”

“I hope you will have me in some way,” Beatrice purred.

“I believe that can be arranged,” the Duke replied.

He took her chin and tilted her head up toward him to kiss her. Beatrice felt herself sink into the bed. Her entire body tingled with an unknown warmth, blooming from deep inside and rushing all the way up and down to her fingers and toes. She was floating in an ocean of warmth in his embrace.

Her hand moved slowly over his chest as their kiss slowed almost to a halt. She traced the outline of his muscles with her fingers, needing to explore every inch of him, to commit every part of him to memory.

There was no rush now. They were together, and nothing would come between them. They had all night to explore each other’s bodies, and Beatrice did not even mind delayed gratification. The real pleasure was being in his embrace again, knowing the ecstasy was coming at some point.

The Duke’s tongue probed her slightly parted lips and pressed against her tongue. Beatrice moaned, moving her fingers to his nipple and gently brushing it. The Duke ran his fingers up and down her spine, caressing her gently.

Nothing outside the room mattered to them. They kissed each other for what seemed like an hour, losing all sense of time.

Their lips finally came apart, and the Duke looked down upon Beatrice. “I do love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she replied. “I might not have announced it in front of a hall full of people, but it is true.”

Edwin laughed and then kissed her again.

Beatrice ran her hand down his stomach and then back up to his shoulder and down his arm. The Duke shifted and wrapped one arm around her waist, resting a hand on her hip. His other hand took one of her pert breasts and squeezed it, his thumb playing with her nipple as he held her.

Beatrice moaned louder at his touch, lifting her head to steal a kiss. She shifted until she was on top of him, pressing her soft body to his tight frame, feeling parts of him probing her softness. She placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him a little quicker this time. When his hands cupped her rear and squeezed, she kissed him harder.

The Duke gripped her waist and flipped her over, tossing her down on the bed like a blanket. Beatrice gasped and then laughed as he lowered himself onto her. She giggled as he kissed her, and then he took her arms and pinned them above her head. She could feel his throbbing member against her thigh, and she ached for it to fill her.

“I am yours,” she told him. “I need you inside me.”

“Do you?” he asked with a smile.

“I do,” she replied. “I will beg for it if I have to.”

“I don’t believe it will come to that,” the Duke said with a smirk.

He kissed her again, pressing his broad chest down onto her soft mounds, squishing them. He took one of her hands and moved it beside the other above her head so that he could hold both her wrists with one hand, pinning her beneath him. Beatrice felt her body stretch out beneath him. She could not move, nor did she want to.

The Duke’s other hand traced a path down her body. It lightly brushed the side of one of her breasts, and then her side, and, finally, her thigh. Goose pimples rose in each place he touched, and it caused her back to arch. She could not push him upward—she could only arch her body into his.

She was about to start begging when he gave her what she wanted. His hand moved to her inner thigh, and he pushed her leg a little to the side, opening her cave for him.

Beatrice moaned, but that moan quickly turned into a gasp when he filled her with his large shaft. He slid fully into her, filling her inch by inch until he was deep inside. He did not hesitate or tease her this time and immediately slid back out.

Beatrice could not kiss him with such pleasure. She was moaning too much to be able to focus on anything else. She moved her head to the side, letting out deep, guttural noises. The Duke turned his attention to her neck, kissing her there, and it only made her moan louder.

He quickened his thrusts, timing them just right, like an orchestra building to a crescendo. Beatrice could hear the music in her ears, a composition born from his love for her.

She had to break free. She could not be pinned any longer without being allowed to do something. She wriggled her arms, and the Duke let go of her hands. Beatrice immediately brought them to his back, clawing at him, and then one hand ventured down to his rear and squeezed it.

Edwin was spurred into action, thrusting into her harder, their skin slapping with each movement. Beatrice held on for dear life—she was pinned beneath him and could go nowhere, but she still gripped onto his rear. Her nails dug into his flesh, unable to be gentle with him.

And the Duke slammed into her harder and harder, filling her with his throbbing rod.

“Give it to me,” Beatrice panted. “Give me everything.”

With those words, she climaxed, and her cavern convulsed around his rigid shaft, sucking it in. She felt it throb and pulse inside her, and it only heightened what she was feeling. She was no longer just inside the room—she was inside her body.

The Duke climaxed, filling her with his seed, and she wanted to laugh and sing at the same time.

The Duke sank onto her, and they clung to each other. As they lay on the bed, spent and sated, they became one being. They lay there for an unknown amount of time, two hearts beating together.

Beatrice kept her eyes closed, dreaming of the future.