21
The woman in the drawing room was not Sophie. The slender figure in the black cloak who faced him with huge, frightened eyes was Belle, Sophie’s friend. He had met her at the manor house in the country. Belle was a lovely young woman with brown curls and large brown eyes.
“Belle, what is wrong?” he asked as he strode into the room.
Had something happened to Sophie? Cary felt as he had in the jungle in Ceylon on the many times he and his men had been ambushed.
“Sophie is in danger! He took her child, and she went running off to him. I told her to come to you or to go to the magistrates. What he is doing is a crime! And I fear he won’t simply let Alex go because she’s gone to him. He wants to hurt Sophie. I know the kind of man he is.”
“Who is, Belle? Who are you talking about?”
“Lord Devars. He wanted Sophie to become his mistress after her fiancé died, especially when she had the baby and was ruined. He offered to keep her. But she refused him. She wanted to find love, you see. And he took it badly. He tried to force himself on her, and she hit him. She didn’t kill him, but she—” Belle broke off and put her hand to her mouth.
“What did she do, Belle?”
“I mean, she was forced to flee to London as quickly as she could. She was worried about us, but I never dreamed he would really hurt us. But now he has taken Sophie’s son to force her to do whatever he wants.”
“And she has gone to him.” Damn—why hadn’t she come to him? “Where did she go? Do you know, Belle?”
She nodded and held out a folded paper. “He sent her this—his demand that she come to him. In it, he says he would have Alex returned to me if she went. But he never did. He lied.”
Cary read the note, and his blood went cold.
Belle said weakly, “He demands that she not tell anyone. I was afraid to come to you because of that, but I knew I must.”
“You did the right thing.”
“Will you help Sophie? She said she feared you didn’t love her anymore—because she had to say no to you.”
“I’d help her no matter what,” he said gruffly.
He’d been through battles in Ceylon, and he had never felt so sick with fear in his life. He felt even more afraid than he had when he confronted Angelique. He had been terrified she had hurt Sophie. But this time, both Sophie and her son were in danger. Devars was known to be a brute. Arrogant, sadistic, ruthless. He had been barred from some of London’s brothels, for God’s sake, which proved what a vicious monster he could be. And he had Sophie and her child. If anything happened to Sophie, Cary couldn’t bear it. If anything happened to Sophie’s son—he knew they both wouldn’t be able to live with it.
He knew the truth—he did still love her. He always would.
“You promised me he would go free if I came to you. You swore in your note that you would send him back to Belle!”
Sophie struggled in vain. Her hands were bound together again, but this time they were positioned behind her back. The long end of the rope had been tied around a tree. A second rope was around Alexander’s waist. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Her baby. Her poor, innocent child. She couldn’t go to him or comfort him. Or protect him. How could she be so helpless, so useless? She despised herself. She hated Devars. Hatred was like a serpent writhing inside her. “What are you going to do to him?” she cried.
Devars glared at her—though his top hat shadowed his face and she could not see his eyes. She could see his mouth, drawn in a hard, cruel slash of a smile. His greatcoat swirled around him like large wings on a menacing, monstrous dragon. He came close to her, bending, and she instinctively drew back. “I am ensuring that you cooperate. That you do as I say, you stupid bitch.”
She flinched. Devars spoke in a voice of ice. Utterly calm. Her son sobbed. Then Devars lifted her son’s tiny body and held him over the gaping hole of an old well.
“Dear God, what are you doing?” She gasped.
“I am going to lower him in there, Sophie. He will be perfectly safe—as long as we return to take him out.”
“Mummy, no!”
The back of Devars’s hand cracked across Alex’s small face. His head whipped to the side.
Sophie screamed, “No, stop! Please, stop!”
Devars did, his hand poised for a second blow. His huge body moved with heavy breaths.
“Alex,” she said, her voice breaking. “You must do as he says. We will come back for you. It won’t be long. Close your eyes and sing a little song. Don’t be afraid.”
Would they be back soon?
She knew what Devars wanted. To have sex with her while her son was in danger. This was his ultimate punishment for her defiance. He was sick. Unfathomably evil.
Holding the rope with one hand, with it wrapped around his forearm, Devars let go of her son. Alex fell—
Only a few inches before Devars caught the rope with his other hand. Carefully, he fed Alex down into the dark hole.
Sophie was going to be sick. She had to fight for strength.
“Please don’t do this,” she begged. “It’s so cold tonight. He will be frozen and hungry. And he will be terrified down there. Please, do not do this. Please, bring him up. If you do, I will give you anything you want. I will do anything you want.”
“You will be more obedient when you fear for his life, my dear. And I like the idea of fucking you while you are terrified.”
He drew out a blade from his boot. Hulking and huge, he advanced on her. She wanted to scream.
But Alex would hear, and that would frighten him. “Wh-what are you going to do?”
Devars was like Angelique—too mad to see reason. He believed he had the right to hurt her as punishment. She had tried to thwart him, and she’d lost.
He slapped her. Hard. Then slammed her back against the tree.
Her hands were crushed against the bark.
Tied up, she was utterly helpless. She had to think—
“Won’t you untie my hands? Then I can touch you, pleasure you.”
“You mean, try to escape from me. I know you’re thinking it, bitch. I’m going to take you to a house I’ve rented. If you pleasure me enough, then we will return for your son. But you will have to work very hard to save his life.”
“I’ll replace the bracelet.” Her throat was so tight, her voice was a croak.
“That trifle? I don’t care about it. This had nothing to do with your stealing, whore. You thought you could beat me. I always win. Always.”
“No. You don’t.”
She heard the low, deep, commanding voice and almost collapsed in joy. How was it possible? How could Cary be here? Then she realized he’d heard what she said about the bracelet.
Devars whipped around, partially blocking her view, but she could see enough.
Cary stood there, holding a pistol on Devars. “You know,” Cary said coolly, “I am growing tired of people trying to hurt Sophie.”
Devars brandished the blade. “I’ll kill her unless you put the pistol down, Caradon.”
Sophie knew he was standing close enough to plunge the blade into her or slit her throat. She had to do something.
He might try to kill her, but she had to do something useful. Her hands were tied, but Devars’s attention was fixed on Cary and he was grinning, certain he had the upper hand—
Hard as she could, Sophie kicked upward, slamming her boot right into his crotch.
He howled and staggered, but he wasn’t completely crippled with pain—
Cary fired the pistol at Devars’s leg.
The man screamed and squealed, but she realized he was not hit at the exactly instant he did. But by then, Cary had a long blade pulled from his walking stick, and he held the point of it against Devars’s throat.
“Step away from her,” he snarled.
Devars was white with fear. Or with pain. But he blustered, “You won’t kill me in cold blood. You are a war hero.”
“Then we’ll duel. It is one way or the other. We will duel right here and now. Or I’ll let you go—but with a wound to remind you of this night. To remind you to keep away from Sophie, my duchess, for the rest of your sorry life. If you don’t shut up and get out of here, I may cut something vital and leave you with a maimed leg.”
“Your duchess? This ta—”
“Say it, and the blade goes through your throat. You threatened Sophie, you terrified an innocent child. The world would be a better place without a sick, revolting bully like you.”
“No. No, I will go. You’re welcome to the—”
“Again, I suggest you hold your tongue, or I’ll cut it out while you lie dying.”
She’d never seen this side of Cary. The ruthless, tough soldier. He hadn’t even been like this with Angelique. She was almost afraid of him.
Devars certainly was.
Cary took one step back, his blade poised. “I am going to the magistrate with a full accounting of what you have done to Sophie. I would suggest you flee London immediately. Go and hide on the Continent. If you return, I will call you out and kill you. I swear to God, I will. Now get the hell out of here.”
At that, hulking Devars scrambled away, panting. He sounded a bit like a yipping dog.
Cary used the razor-sharp blade to slice the rope from the tree, then cut through her bonds. “Quickly, my dear. We must get to your boy.”
She hurried with him. She couldn’t believe it was over. Within minutes, Cary had lifted Alex to safety and placed her son in her arms.
She had to put her face into Alex’s sweet neck and sob.
“Mummy, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“No. I am happy. You are safe now. You will always be safe.”
“He isn’t going to get away with this. I’ve taken steps. He owes money at the gaming hells. On top of that, we will give our testimonies to the magistrate. Lord Devars is about to be destroyed. He will definitely have no choice but to leave England. He will never bother you again.”
“Thank you. Oh my goodness, thank you.”
“Sophie, do you still care for me?”
“I love you.”
“Then marry me. I believe there is a way to make it possible, Sophie. For now, you and your son should both return to London with me.”
Before she could explain or protest, he took Alex from her arms and carried the boy back to the curricle. “Mummy! Mummy!” the boy cried desperately.
“It is all right. Your mummy is with us. See?”
Sophie had to hasten to get to his side. She clasped the boy’s hand, and they both took Alex to the curricle.
Cary handed her up, then settled the child onto her lap.
He was happy he had been able to save this child. The poor lad clung to his mother now. Cary wrapped a fur throw around Sophie and the child. Young Alex closed his eyes, his long dark lashes lying against his round cheeks.
He was a sweet, handsome child.
Then Cary got up and slowly walked his horses around so they could follow the track back to the main road. He told her how Belle had come to him. The note had brought him to this area, then he had found witnesses who saw Devars’s carriage and managed to track it.
“Thank heaven, you did. Now, how can I thank you?”
By marrying me, he thought.
Then she said, “But where is Belle? Is she in London? I must let her know I am safe.”
“I had my coachman return her to the cottage so she could be with her children.”
“That was very good of you. But I must go to her. I think she would be frightened to be on her own tonight.”
That was Sophie—she had been through hell, yet she worried about taking care of others.
Cary inclined his head. “You’re correct. I will see you safely home, for your friend will want company. I will send word to tell her you are safe now, but I suspect she will want to see for herself. And then we can tell her that we are to be married. I need practice announcing this.”
She flashed a panicked look at her son. The boy had fallen asleep. “I can’t marry you, Cary. I—I love you deeply. I love you so very much. It is so wonderful of you to ask me, but—”
“I won’t ask you to abandon Alex. He is a sweet, clever child. I love you with all my heart, Sophie, and I will ensure he is well-looked after. I intend to settle an income on him, from money not entailed to my estate. And I believe he can live with us as your son. There is no reason we cannot say you were married to your fiancé before he went to war.”
“But it isn’t true. As your duchess, I would be under much greater scrutiny. If someone finds out it is a lie—” She broke off. “No, I will tell you the real reason I cannot marry you. It is about Lord Devars.”
“Belle told me what he wanted from you, and that you had to escape him.”
“I brained him over the head with a vase, then I ran for my life. But he had given me a diamond bracelet, to try to convince me to become his mistress. I didn’t want it. I should have thrown it on his unconscious body. But I was so afraid that Belle and the children would starve that I took it. I stole it—”
“He gave it to you. I do not consider that stealing.”
“But—but he gave it to me so I would be his mistress.”
“He presented it as a gift in the hopes it would convince you. A gift should have no obligation attached.”
She managed a smile. “But it did.”
“And he said he didn’t care about the bracelet. However, to make things right, I will replace it and send it to him. This time he can sell it to support himself when he flees England.”
“But you know I was a thief—”
“I know you were forced into a hellish situation. I admire you for helping Belle and the children. Sophie, it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. And I am going to find a way to make it possible for us to marry. I promise.”
Then he kissed her. A sweet, swift kiss because she was holding her son. “I wish it could be so,” she whispered. “I wish it so much.”
Two weeks later, Sophie was walking outside with the children when she saw Cary riding up the road on his enormous horse.
She swallowed hard. There was something of great import she must tell him.
Then she saw his glowing smile as he rode up to the cottage. He was grinning at her, and he jumped off his horse and ran to her.
The Duke of Caradon was swinging her around out in the yard in front of the cottage. He cupped her face, and his mouth closed over hers.
She pulled back. Blushed. “Not in front of the children,” she whispered.
He clasped her hand and walked her to a small bench between an apple tree in front of the cottage. “You did not tell me your fiancé had acquired a license. It was his intent to marry you—and you exchanged vows.”
“I know, but we did it without permission. The rector indulged us, with no idea that we would consummate our pretend wedding. He was very old, and Samuel convinced him to let us do this. Since Samuel was an earl’s son, he tended to get his way. But I was too young—I was not quite sixteen, and I needed my adoptive parents’ permission to marry.”
“And if it could be claimed that you had their permission, you would be legally wed. That way, your son is legitimate and you are a war widow, my dear.”
“But I was going to be a courtesan.”
“And you have been my private mistress. There have been other men who have married their mistresses, my dear. As I’ve said, Grey is one. And the world has not imploded.”
“When did you see the rector?” she asked, filled with curiosity.
“These last two weeks I went to see the rector. And I went to visit your adoptive family and your fiancé’s family.”
She gaped in shock. “You went to see them? And during this time you were supposed to be finding a wife.”
“Deep in my heart, I knew I’d already found her. I have convinced your adoptive parents and the family of your fiancé to support the story that you both had permission and were legally married. The rector, who is eighty, has prepared the registry appropriately. No one will doubt you were legitimately a widow, and your son is the child of a hero who died in battle. With your position as a duchess—and wealth and power, not to mention your strength and good character—you will be a success. No one will dare cut you, I assure you.”
“But how did you convince our families to agree to this?”
“Your adoptive family can bask in the prestige. I can’t forgive them for turning you out, but if it buys us a future, I am willing to help them advance socially. Because that will put them on our side, and they will support the story that you were married. I have made the same promises to your fiancé’s family. They lost a son and are starry-eyed at the idea of preference from a duke.”
“All this—for me?”
“For you and your son. And some of my motivation is selfish. I want you, Sophie. I want to spend my life with you. And that is worth any cost. If you will have me.”
“If I’ll have you? Of course. I love you. I’ve loved you all along. I just—feared I would have my heart broken again, so I was being careful. But I love you so deeply! And there is something I must tell you, Cary. It is possible that you are going to be a father.”
He stared at her, stunned. Then let out a joyous whoop. He hugged her, lifting her right off her feet. Then quickly set her down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do that to you in your condition. Thank God, we can marry hastily then.”
She gazed at him hesitantly. “It’s very early. I’ve only just missed my courses. It might be—well, just a false alarm.”
“Either way, I have you. And together we have Alex,” he said. “And someday, more children, if we’re fortunate. I couldn’t be more blessed.”
Bells rang out from St. George’s church. The sun shone down upon the guests arriving by carriage. Theirs was an intimate wedding—just family and friends. Sophie arrived with Belle and the children. She had decided to invite her adoptive family, but she also invited Nell. She saw Nell as soon as she alighted from the carriage. Sophie held on to her veil with one hand and clutched her bouquet with the other. Nell hugged her.
Dressed in a beautiful, subdued satin gown and pelisse, with a feather-trimmed hat, Nell glowed with delight and looked remarkably elegant.
Of course, Cary’s friends, the Wicked Dukes, were in attendance, along with Helena and her and Grey’s brand-new baby boy.
Outside the church, the Duke of Sinclair bowed over her hand. “You look truly like an angel, Miss Ashley.”
“Thank you.” Her wedding dress was a gown of pale ivory silk. Beneath, her tummy was still flat as she was just over a month into her pregnancy. On the bodice and skirt, roses and leaves were embroidered with silver thread and dotted here and there with pearls. Her veil tumbled down her back, a river of handmade lace held in place by a band decorated by pearls and tiny diamonds. She felt like a fairy princess—that was what Alex had called her.
“I have to thank you, Miss Ashley, for making Cary so happy,” Sinclair said. “He’s changed so much thanks to you. You helped him clear his name and solve the mystery. And you helped him heal finally from the trauma of the kidnapping, which none of the Wicked Dukes knew about. Grey, Sax, and I are forever in your debt for what you have done to help Cary.”
“Sophie. Please call me Sophie.”
“You must call me Sin.” He winked. “No one uses my first name, least of all me.”
She saw him glance at Cary, and she said, “You all truly have been very worried about him, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Again, you have our eternal gratitude.”
“Thank you, but I also did it for me.” She felt her cheeks go red. “I love him so much, I couldn’t bear him to be unhappy.”
“He is right. You are so ingenuous, you are irresistible.”
She was startled.
“I don’t mean in that way. I mean—you have my heart, but in a platonic way.” A grin revealed the Duke of Sinclair’s dimples.
Nell bustled over then. “Two of the Wicked Dukes are wed. You two are going to be chased by girls who are pursuing you with a vengeance.”
The Duke of Sinclair looked around nervously, and she and Nell laughed. Nell pointed at two young ladies who were whispering behind their hands and who began giggling. “They will pounce soon enough.”
“And miss,” the duke said. “I’m quick enough to evade matrimony.”
“But why would you want to?” Sophie asked. She couldn’t imagine anything more wonderful than being in love and being married.
“Ah, but not everyone is as lucky as Cary, to find you.” With that, Sin left to join Grey and Saxonby.
“Nell, I do have something to give you.” Sophie had carried it with her, wrapped in white paper, tied with a white bow. “It is your book, Nell, that you wrote about your life. You left it for me, but I never saw it until I found it by accident. My adoptive mother hid it away.”
“Did she?” Nell sighed. “I told her not to read it. That was one of the stipulations for the money I gave to her. That the book was for you, when you were older. I wanted you to know I had been desired by the most famous and handsome peers in England. Of course, I suppose I put in a bit too much naughty information for a young woman to read.”
Sophie colored but said, “Perhaps. But it is a very compelling story. It’s really a tale of love.”
“Many loves,” Nell said, lifting a wry brow. “And you read it while you were pursuing the duke, didn’t you? Perhaps I should finish it and fill it with more advice. Perhaps I should include some of your delicious story and title it: How to Catch a Wicked Duke.”
“Nell, you mustn’t.”
“I won’t.” She smiled. “I won’t cause scandal for you. I won’t tell anyone I am your mother either. It would be much better if Society thinks your parents are the doctor and his wife.”
Sophie bit her lip. “I would rather be honest.”
“We had both best be wise. We know the truth. It hardly matters if others know our business.” Nell held the book, stroking the ribbon gently. “I hid this away with you because I was afraid one of my gentlemen might find it and destroy it. I was rather dramatic then. But if it has helped you find true love, then it was a worthwhile labor.”
“It did,” Sophie said, and hugged Nell.
As Nell left, Cary’s mother came to her. In front of the waiting guests, the duchess—who would soon be the dowager duchess—embraced her. “Welcome to our family, my dear.”
“Thank you,” Sophie whispered, “I know this was a shock for you.”
“My son is happy. I have learned, over the years, that I want him to be happy and to have love. I almost lost him twice—when he was young and was taken from me, and then in Ceylon when he was at war. I was the one who pushed him to be married. I finally realized he deserves love more than anything. He loves you deeply, Sophie. And there is no one more deserving for my good and wonderful son than you. For you are a good and wonderful young woman.”
“Thank you.” Sophie brushed away tears.
The dowager handed her a delicate lace-trimmed handkerchief. Cary’s sisters ran up. They both hugged her too. Claudia, the eldest, who was now twenty, whispered, “Thank you for making my brother so happy. And Mama is so happy too. I have decided I am going to marry too. We were so often in the country. Mama was so protective of Lydia and me—”
“She never let us do anything,” Lydia agreed in a whisper.
Both girls looked like Cary with their blue eyes and blond hair.
Sophie understood. “She just wanted to keep you safe. You will both have more freedom now. Cary and I intend to ensure you attend every Society event you can.”
“We should go inside, dears,” Cary’s mother said to her daughters.
Then, as Sophie watched most of the guests enter the church, Dr. and Mrs. Tucker came to her. Her adoptive mother wore a fussy gown festooned with lace and ribbons, and an elaborate turban with a large feather. “Oh, my dear, you look so lovely,” she gushed. “My adoptive daughter, a duchess! What a feather in all our caps.”
The doctor rolled his eyes. “Sophie, I am so sorry for what we did. It was wrong to turn you out. Wrong and unforgiveable.”
“But it’s all worked out for the best,” said his wife. Then after meeting Sophie’s gaze, she changed her tune and gave several effusive apologies.
All her life, Sophie had been kindhearted. But she faced the woman who had sent her away, knowing she must be blunt, honest, and harsh, for this was important. “I know you feel I committed a sin. Perhaps I did. But I gave birth to Alex, and every time I look at my son, I see Samuel in him. Samuel has left a lasting legacy to the world through his son. I cannot feel that is wrong. If you wish never to see me again, I am content with that. I don’t care what you did to me—but you turned your back on an innocent baby, and that I cannot forgive.”
“Please, Sophie. My dear child—”
“I never was your dear child.” Then, she could not help it. “Perhaps I can forgive you. If you are very, very good and respectful to Alex. You must treat him no differently than any other children I hope to have with the duke. At first, Caradon wanted to punish you for your treatment of me. I convinced him to not do so. He has now asked for your help.”
Mrs. Tucker said, “I just feared you could end up bad, like your mother—”
“That is the problem. My mother wasn’t bad. She had to survive too. And she tried to give me a respectable future. But I will try to forgive,” Sophie said. “The duke has said you have promised not to reveal the truth. If there were scandal, or Alex were hurt in any way, I know the duke would be very angry.”
“Our lips are sealed,” the doctor said. “All I feel is tremendous guilt for what you have been through. We were foolish and proud. And so very wrong. We shall do our best to make amends, and we will begin by vowing to never speak of anything hurtful to you or your child.”
“Thank you.” She touched her adoptive father’s hand. “Now you may take me down the aisle to my soon-to-be husband.”
To my wonderful, perfect Wicked Duke, she thought as she entered the church with her father. She gazed around her. She was used to country churches. St. George’s was enormous. So many elegantly dressed people sat on the pews—they could not all be friends and family. Flowers decorated the end of each pew and sat upon the altar.
She gazed down to Cary, who was standing in front of the reverend and waiting for her.
It was all she could do not to run to him. But here, she had to be sedate and ladylike.
It felt like an eternity. She knew people were watching her, but she only had eyes for Cary.
She reached him, dimly aware of her adoptive father agreeing to give her away—or something like that.
The reverend cleared his throat. He read rather a lot of poetic-sounding things, but Sophie was too nervous and excited to hear. Then he got to the best part.
“Do you, Sophia Elizabeth Ashley, take this man, Fitzwilliam Augustus Flavius Montcleif, to be your husband?”
She was deliriously happy, but her eyes widened at his names. A faint blush touched his cheeks, and she couldn’t help it. She giggled. It was just her joy trying to burst out. The reverend looked rather shocked. She choked down her giggle and said, “I do.”
Then it was Cary’s turn. Under his breath, just for her, he whispered, “God, how I do. How very much I do take you, Sophie.” Then out loud, he said, “I do,” and her heart took flight.
And continued to soar as Cary bent to her and she lifted on tiptoe to him and their lips touched. Sophie felt a shower of sparks rush through her.
Their first kiss as husband and wife—
His lips parted hers, and his tongue slipped gently inside her mouth, teasing hers.
Goodness, he was doing this to her in church.
Cary was, at heart, a Wicked Duke. She knew that now.
Slowly, he broke the kiss. The reverend was blushing as he led them to sign the book while the guests filed outside.
Sophie watched Cary quickly move the pen, signing his name with a flourish. “I cannot believe your given names are Fitzwilliam Augustus Flavius.”
“My father loved Roman history, and I bore the brunt.” He handed her the pen, and she wrote her name.
He clasped her hand, and they walked back up the aisle together toward the doors of the church. Sophie hesitated at the closed door. Soon, they would walk out in front of all their guests.
“Our wedding is the talk of London. Everyone must be gossiping about us—and I am not sure if I can go through with this.”
“We can weather the gossip together,” he assured her. “I invited several important and open-minded members of the aristocracy. Their presence here assures your acceptance.”
“That’s why there were so many guests—”
Cary’s mouth closed over hers again. He gave her a slow, luscious kiss. In the church, again. She pulled back, face aflame. “You must stop,” she squeaked. “We’re in church.”
“But we’re married now. Nothing is forbidden.”
“Nothing? Heavens, what do you have in mind? Remember, we are supposed to be going to the wedding breakfast. There is a reason it is called a wedding night.”
“I can’t wait that long,” he admitted. “Race you to the carriage.”
Then the doors opened and cheers rose up. Rice showered over them. Laughing, Cary ran with her to the carriage and quickly handed her up. She leaned out the window to wave, then turned to discover Cary was unfastening his trousers.
She laughed, joyously. “You are eager.”
“I’m in love.”
Their carriage rumbled on toward their wedding breakfast. But inside, she settled on Cary’s lap, taking his beautiful hard cock inside.
His arms went around her, and he kissed the nape of her neck as he drove inside her. Under her skirts he teased her nether lips, found her sensitive clit, and lightly caressed it.
Sophie moaned softly and sucked in frantic breaths.
All the joy and excitement of the day blended with the sheer frantic eroticism of their hurried lovemaking, becoming something explosive.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried.
She was coming, then he was too. Together, they found their peak. Moaning together. Laughing in unison afterward.
“I always hoped I would find love. But I never dreamed I would find you, Cary. That you would marry me, and we could have a family together. And that Alex would have a wonderful home and a future. It is like a dream come true.”
“It is more happiness than I ever let myself dream about,” he admitted.
She gasped, realizing he growing hard again. “Can you? Already?”
“I can because I desire you so much. Because I love you so much. You are my dream come true, Sophie.” Then he said, “My mother intends to hold a ball. She admitted to me that she lied about being gravely ill to convince me to marry.”
“Do you forgive her? She didn’t mean harm by it.”
“I did forgive her, Sophie.”
“That was very good of you—” She broke off and gasped as he wriggled his hips, teasing her with his cock.
“I know all her worry over me had weakened her, but she is genuinely happy about the marriage. And the anticipation of a grandchild is doing wonders for her—”
“You didn’t tell her yet, did you?”
“I’m afraid I did. I warned her it was early yet.” He thrust deeply into her. “But I did want to tell you about the ball.”
“I do like balls,” Sophie said.
Cary laughed, knowing he’d never felt happier. “Sophie, that has another meaning, you know.”
“Well, I mean both of them when you are involved,” Sophie said, looking a bit indignant at his laughter. “I am looking forward to waltzing with you again.”
How adorable she was, he thought. “You’ll only get one dance with me.”
“Only one! Why?”
“After that, I’ll want to steal you away and make love to you all night.”
“Hmmm, perhaps that would be better than dancing.”
He laughed again. Then he held her hips to spear her on his rock-hard, throbbing cock as he thrust into her tight, hot pussy.
He was so deeply in love with her. And had never felt more deeply ensconced in pure joy and delight. Little by little, he and Sophie had fallen deeper in sin.
Only to find heaven at the end of it.
He kissed her just as she climaxed, loving the way she bounced on him and scratched his shoulders and moaned frantically against his mouth.
Happiness was going to be theirs. Forever after.