Whimpering, she came again, her rippling culmination testing his self-control. As she lay with her rounded breasts heaving, he stripped off his clothes. He grasped his bobbing erection, so aroused that even his own touch caused a drop of seed to leak from his tip.
Frigging his cock slowly, he bent a finger at his duchess.
“Come here,” he commanded.
She came to the edge of the bed, and he adored the hunger in her eyes. She’d spent twice already, yet she was ready for more.
“I’m going to put my cock in you soon,” he said. “Before I do, I want you to make it wet for me. With your mouth.”
“With pleasure, sir,” she said with a flirty grin.
If only she were this biddable in everyday life.
“On your stomach, then.”
She obeyed, putting her mouth on level with his cock.
He brought the seeping crown to her lips. “Open for me.”
She did, and he pushed inside. Devil and damn.
The moist heat of her mouth swept fire up his spine. During their engagement, they’d practiced this skill; Livy had become somewhat of an expert. Fisting the satiny streamers of her hair, he watched his thick shaft disappear between her lips, stretching that delicate entryway. Undeterred by his size, she took him into her deepest recesses, her throat muscles squeezing a groan from him. As he withdrew, she swirled her tongue along a knee-weakening groove. Chest heaving, he pulled out before he unmanned himself.
She peered up at him through her lashes. “Are you wet enough, sir?”
In answer, he rolled her onto her back and crawled atop her. Parting her sleek thighs, he notched himself to her opening and drove home. They both sighed at the moment of joining. For Ben, the incredible pleasure of being inside his wife was enhanced by something he’d only felt with her: a sense of rightness. From the moment he’d saved her life, she had saved his. And destiny had only strengthened their unique bond by forging it in the hottest fires of love.
“I love you, Livy,” he said hoarsely. “Until my last breath and beyond.”
“I love you, Ben,” she whispered back. “Always and forever.”
Gazing into his beloved’s eyes, he began to move in a rhythm that was ageless yet full of discovery. With Livy, everything was new and special. Urged on by her panting cries, he plowed her faster, deeper, his control unraveling. His stones smacked her dewy folds as he hilted himself in her snug sheath, over and again, needing to own her as fully as she owned him.
When Livy went over the edge again, he went with her. Pressure shot up his shaft, pleasure exploding from him in endless bursts. Groaning, he emptied himself into his wife’s generous keeping, and she took it all, giving him pure bliss in return.
He collapsed beside her, gathering her close. Lying skin to skin with Livy, their hearts beating in unison, he knew he’d found his absolution. She had given him peace…given him everything. And what did he have to give her in return?
He gazed into her eyes. “Livy, is there anything you would like?”
She smiled. “You already gave me a wedding present. The wedding trip to Italy, remember?”
He couldn’t wait to travel with her. To have adventures with his duchess. Which meant the present was for him as much as for her.
“I would like to give you another gift,” he insisted. “Something just for you.”
“You’ve supported my work with the Angels. What is that, if not a gift?”
With Charlie’s blessing, he had assisted the Angels on a few missions. He had enjoyed working with Livy and felt proud of her prowess.
“Supporting your calling isn’t a gift,” he said dismissively. “That is just common sense.”
“You are the best of husbands.” She beamed at him. “Come to think of it, there is something I would like.”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
“It’s not a thing. More like a certain, um, variation I’ve been curious about…”
Blushing, she whispered her wish into his ear.
They each made further discoveries that eve. Livy learned that she did indeed like the position in question and moaned her approval into the pillow...twice. For his part, Ben found that when he was with his new duchess, recovery periods were, in fact, unnecessary.
A fortnight later, Livy and the other Angels accompanied Pippa to the opening night of the Royal Academy exhibition. Although she was in mourning, Pippa had been adamant that she wanted to see Longmere’s entry in the show, and Livy wanted to support her friend. Ben had escorted the group and now stood at a distance, examining a landscape.
Livy knew he wasn’t particularly interested in the art. He was giving her and her friends space to talk, and she adored his thoughtfulness. Adored everything about her new husband, in truth.
Pippa led the way over to the painting. “Here it is.”
Longmere’s piece had been hung at eye level, a place of honor on the crowded wall, yet it would have stood out even in an obscure position. Frankly, Livy was astonished by the painting: its quality surpassed that of his others by leaps and bounds. The glowing oils portrayed a woman, modeled after CeCe, staring out a window. The mix of sensuality and sadness in the lady’s eyes captivated the viewer. One wondered what she was thinking as she looked into the beyond.
“How lovely,” Fiona breathed.
Other visitors stopped to gaze at the painting, their murmurs appreciative.
“It is a fitting memorial to the earl,” Glory said sincerely.
“Longmere would have been pleased,” Pippa said in quiet tones. “All he wanted was recognition for his work. That is the irony of life, I suppose: now that he has his greatest desire, he cannot enjoy it.”
Privately, Livy thought that Longmere had been a bigger fool than she realized if his wife had not been his greatest desire.
She touched Pippa’s dark sleeve. “How are
