The Royals Series
Page 46
“But isn’t that always how the best beginnings start? When you don’t know what to expect?”
“Maybe.” Silence stretched between us. “I know I can’t just walk away. You mean too much to me.”
He sucked in a breath. “Scarlett, we can make this work.”
The surety in his voice wound through me, a comfort I’d missed. I dropped my fork and dabbed at the corners of my eyes with my fingertips. I didn’t want to cry, but his words somehow released me of a burden—I believed him. His chair scraped against the floor, and before I knew it he was touching me, pulling me onto his lap. “I hate to see you cry.”
“It’s relief.”
“What is?” he asked.
“That you didn’t throw me out for being crazy. That it was more than a contract for you too. That . . . that I’m here with you.”
“Nothing makes sense without you,” he said. “I feel like the last few weeks I’ve been treading water until I got you back. All these years without parents, I’m so used to being independent, self-reliant and you come along and within months, I need you just to function.”
I turned into his chest, pressing my cheek against his shirt. I knew exactly what he meant. I felt more myself when I was in his arms.
“We went into this marriage as strangers and now—you’re my lover, my teammate, my soulmate. The woman I love. You’re my wife.”
“So, where do we go from here?” I asked.
“I want to be married to you,” he said.
I looked up at him. “We are married already unless . . .” Had he processed the papers?
“I know, and I burned the papers you signed. I meant that I want to be with you. Stay married to you—share a life with you.”
I lifted my head and kissed his jaw. “I want that, too. I just need to know that you’ll always let me in here,” I said, scraping my fingers through his hair. “I accept that people change and maybe feelings do, too, but not out of the blue. I need you to share your feelings with me. I was blindsided by my first husband. That can’t happen to me again. Not with you.”
“I can do that. I love you.”
“I love you, too. More than I thought I could love a person.”
The corners of his mouth twitched but he resisted a grin. Instead he dipped his head and pressed his lips gently against mine.
“Does the door lock in this conference room?” I asked as I placed my hand against his chest. “This wife wants to fuck her husband.”
“Well, my duchess, I’m going to insist I take you home for that. I’m not willing to share your screams with everyone waiting in reception.”
“Well, the car better be ready. Because I’ve waited long enough.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ryder
I slammed the door shut and pressed her against the walnut surface with my hip as I cupped her head, tipping it up slightly as I slid my tongue through her lips. How I’d held out from fucking her in the car I had no idea.
Relief had given way to desire. I’d been prepared to do anything to get her back, but the fact she’d walked through the door to my office and laid it all out—her fears, her need for me—gave me a hard-on the size of Africa. The balls on this woman. She was so brave, so perfect. And I was a lucky fucking bastard to be married to her.
I turned the heavy metal lock to the side of her head. “I won’t let anything disturb this,” I said. Now I knew I had her back, I needed to make up for lost time.
I grabbed the bottom of her dress with both hands and pulled it up, my fingernails scraping against her skin. I wanted my naked body pressed against hers for hours. Raw instinct echoed within me, urging me to cover her body with mine. My fingers found her lace underwear and I yanked them down, kneeling as I did.
“Ryder,” she whispered, threading her hands through my hair. She gasped as I dragged my tongue over her slit and deep into her folds. She tasted like mine, and I wanted to swallow every last drop. Her clit throbbed against my mouth and her hips bucked off the door. I grabbed her thighs, forcing them wider and then pushed her hips back. I’d never have a problem kneeling before my duchess, but there’d never be a time when I wasn’t in charge when it came to her orgasm.
As her head fell forward, her silky black hair provided a curtain around her pulsing, wet pussy, her moans growing louder and louder. “It’s been so long—I can’t stop—Ryder.” I dug my tongue in deeper, pressing my thumbs into the sensitive flesh just above her pubic bone. My dick pressed against my zipper at the thought of being able to bring her to climax with just my mouth. It was as if there was so much connection between us, the emotional and mental brought us to a point where we were constantly on the brink with each other.
Her hands tightened in my hair as she cried out my name. Her body began to shudder and I stilled. Slowly, I licked up to her clit, soothing her pulsing sex as she came down from her orgasm.
Her body sagged and I jumped to my feet to catch her before she fell. Because that was my job—to catch her before she fell. Now and forever.
“Someone needs to lie down,” I said, scooping her up and taking her into our bedroom.
“I’d forgotten how good you were at that,” she said, grinning up at me from where she was lying on the bed, watching me as I unbuttoned my shirt.
“You forgot?” I asked.
She laughed. “I have a bad memory. You’re going to have to remind me of those other things you used to do to me as well.”
I shrugged off my shirt and as quickly as I could, stepped out of my shoes and trousers. “Other things?”
“Yeah, you know. Naked things.”
I groaned at her words, fisting my cock as I neared her. “I’d be very happy to remind you of it all. I want it etched on your brain.”
I climbed onto the bed, over her, my weight to one side of her. I stroked her side, under her arm, next to her breast that was always my favorite part of her.
She gasped. “Stop,” she said, pushing me to my back and sitting up. “We’ve not thought this through.”
I was done thinking; I needed to be inside her. “Hey, I’ve done nothing but think this through.” I tried to focus on what she was saying and ignore the throbbing of my cock.
“We should talk practicalities before we—I mean I don’t want to think everything is fine and—”
“What practicalities?” I grabbed her and pulled her back against me. “I have a condom if that’s what you mean, but—”
Her hands lay chastely on my chest and it took serious effort not to push them down to my cock.
“I’m not kidding, we haven’t discussed a prenup, whether or not we want kids, where we’re going to live . . . Do you see yourself going back to England?”
I groaned. I didn’t care about any of this shit. I just wanted her—whatever that looked like. “Scarlett, I don’t need a prenup because we’re never getting divorced. And I want as many kids as you do, and I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.”
“What if I said I want twelve kids?” she asked, circling her finger on my chest. My dick jumped in response.
“Then we’ll have twelve kids, and I’ll enjoy making them with you.” I rolled her to her back and dipped to kiss her.
“I don’t want twelve kids. Maybe three. But I don’t want to live in your apartment.”
“Three is good. And pick a home. You want to move back to Connecticut?”
She shook her head. “My life in Connecticut is over. I’m ready for a new life with you. I want to be in Manhattan, but I like England and Woolton.”
“We can visit a lot. I’ll contact some real estate agents tomorrow and we’ll start looking for a new place together. Three kids are going to require a yard.”
She grinned. “You’re thinking ahead.”
“To our life together,” I said. Her hands skirted around to my back.
“I like that,” she said, her legs parting wider and I nudged at her entrance. “No condom?” she asked.
“
You want three kids, remember? And we are married.”
Her eyes fluttered as I began to push into her. I couldn’t wait to get her pregnant. Again and again.
“Oh Ryder,” she whispered as I filled her to the hilt. “I love you so much.”
“You mean you love my dick,” I said, dipping to lick the hollow just above her collarbone.
“That is for sure,” she said with a grin.
“Works for me,” I replied. I blinked as I pulled out of her, that delicious tightness of hers pressing all around and shooting sensation down every limb. Christ, what had I done to deserve a woman like this?
I pressed my cock, coated in her wetness, in again, quicker this time, and she cried out as if she was surprised by how good it made her feel. I hoped I’d always make her feel that way.
My skin slid against hers, our sweat mixing together and becoming one. I gathered pace, unable to hold myself back. We were together, both where we should be. Her fingernails dug into my shoulder and the twitch in her hips told me she was close. Seeing what I could do to her always pushed me over the edge. Her stomach arched up and I thrust again, gasping as I filled her—our climaxes perfectly in time.
“I never want you to forget how I can make you feel,” I panted into her ear. “How I’ll always make you feel. You’re never to forget that you’re mine, Duchess. That’s just how it is and how it will always be.”
Epilogue
Ryder
The gravel under my feet was confirmation we were back at Woolton. Before I’d shut the car door, Darcy sped past Lane and me to hug my wife, who was only half out of the car. “It’s so good to see you,” Darcy said. “Was the flight terrible?”
Despite my sister’s show of affection, I hadn’t let go of Scarlett’s hand. Since we’d huddled over the pregnancy test, holding each other, waiting for that double blue line to appear, I’d been able to stomach being away from her even less than usual. I’d be very happy for her to move Cecily Fragrance into our building. We could even share an office. My suggestion had been refused with an eye roll. I’d bring it up again when Scarlett had the baby. The three of us could hang out all day. We could put a playpen in one corner, my desk in another, Scarlett’s by the window. It seemed like a perfect solution.
“The flight was fine. Except no champagne,” Scarlett said.
“Urgh,” Darcy replied. “That’s the worst.”
“I had champagne,” Violet called from where she was clambering out of the car.
“You’re going to need it to get through dinner,” Darcy mumbled. “Nobody have a cow,” she said, as she took Scarlett’s purse, studiously avoiding eye contact with me.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I said. Had she invited Frederick and Victoria to dinner?
She sighed and turned to walk back into the house as Lane unpacked the car. “It wasn’t my choice. They invited themselves over.”
“Who?” Violet asked.
I squeezed Scarlett’s hand. “My cousin and his wife.”
Violet groaned. “Fred and Vi,” she said and Scarlett began to giggle. God, there was nothing more beautiful to me than her happiness.
Pregnant and happy.
“Honestly, they seem to be making an effort,” Darcy said. “I guess what’s done is done. And you have a few hours to sleep a little before they arrive at seven.”
I checked my watch. Not long enough.
As I stepped inside, Scarlett squealed. “You did it.” She dropped my hand. “It’s perfect.”
“Lane and Mrs. MacBee don’t approve, of course,” Violet replied.
“It looks great. Good for you,” Scarlett said.
I tried to work out what was going on as I glanced from one of them to the other but they were just staring at the floor. “What are you two shrieking about?” I asked.
“The carpet, silly,” Scarlett replied. “Do you like it? Darcy wondered if she should ask you but I said you trusted her.”
“The carpet?” I asked, staring at the floor.
“Oh, good lord, Ryder,” my sister said. “I’ve replaced the worn, fraying carpet that had been down a half century. You didn’t even notice?”
I guess it seemed cleaner. “Sure. Looks good,” I said, hoping I was saying the right thing.
“You don’t mind that I didn’t ask? I know it’s your house.”
“It’s just as much your house as mine, Darce.” I slung my arm around her shoulder. Was she really worried? “You can do what you like with it. The carpet is great. I know you love this place, and you’re not going to do anything but look after it,” I said. “Things can’t stay the same forever. Grandfather wouldn’t have wanted that. He’d want you to do what made you happy.”
“And about that . . . I know Grandfather ran everything on a skeleton staff, but I really think we need some admin personnel. I know it’s indulgent. It’s just that—”
“I think that’s a great idea. I don’t want you tied to this place. You need to go out and have a life, too.”
Darcy snaked her hand around my waist and squeezed. “Thank you.”
“Come to New York,” Scarlett said. “We can find you a man.”
“I prefer horses,” Darcy said.
“Men smell better,” Violet replied. She cocked her head. “Well, not all of them. But you should come to New York. I hate being the only single girl at dinner. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to be asked to sit at the kids’ table.”
I chuckled. I’d never had that feeling when I was single. I’d always been happy with life as it was until Scarlett walked in and turned it upside down. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You never know, I might make it stateside when the baby’s born.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. For now, I’m going to take my wife upstairs and make sure she’s well rested before dinner.” I’d have to share Scarlett for the next few days, but right now I wanted it to be just the two of us.
“It feels good to be back.” She smiled over her shoulder at me as we walked into our bedroom. She kicked off her shoes and padded across the room. “Oh look, someone’s changed things around.” Her eyebrows twitched in confusion as she took in the changes I’d requested to the room.
I’d called Lane earlier this week to ask him to move the two velvet chairs from the summer suite into my room and to put them opposite each other under the window, overlooking the croquet pitch. I didn’t even need to ask her to take a seat—she naturally gravitated to the view of the Woolton gardens.
Despite it being early, the sun streamed through the windows and lit up my already glowing wife. The setting wouldn’t get any more perfect. “You look beautiful,” I said as I followed her across the room and stood beside her as she sat, my heartbeat growing louder with every step.
“You have to say that. I’m pregnant with your child.”
“I have to say that because it’s true.”
She tilted her head to one side, the way she did when I was being a cheeseball. “Do you think we can play a little croquet while we’re here?”
“Yes,” I said, the words forcing their way from my dry throat. She leaned forward and poured out two glasses of cucumber water from the jug on the table in front of her.
“Need a drink?” she asked, offering me a glass as I stood over her.
I shook my head and she took a sip.
“Do you need anything?” I asked, rounding her chair, bracing myself for the moment I was about to make.
“Just you,” she replied.
I took her hand and dipped to one knee.
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you—”
“Scarlett Westbury, when I invited you home the first night I met you, I could never have known how you would change my life. Change me. And when I suggested our arrangement, it was hardly the proposal you deserved.” I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out the navy-blue ring box I’d been carrying since leaving our brownstone yesterday. I squeezed it tight, trying to steady my hands. My wife was the only person
in the world who could make me shake.
“It was here at Woolton that I fell in love with you. So I wanted to wait until we were back, overlooking the lawn where we had our first disagreement because that was the moment I realized you were the first person outside my family whose good opinion I desired. In this house that you helped me secure and in this room where I first made love to you as my wife.” The lid creaked as I opened the box, revealing my grandmother’s engagement ring. “I want to ask you to do me the honor of wearing this ring, as my wife, for the rest of our lives.”
She didn’t reply straight away and I shifted slightly, lowering the ring before she caught my hand in hers. “Ryder, I would be as honored to wear that ring as I am to be your wife.”
I captured her face in my hand and stroked her cheekbone with my thumb. “What did I do to deserve you?”
She shrugged. “Well, I’ve had a lot of nice jewelry since I got married to you, so there’s that.” She wiggled the fingers of her right hand in front of me.
I chuckled and took the ring out of its box.
“And you know—you’ve got a huge penis.”
I slid the ring onto her finger, the fit perfect. “You’re so romantic,” I replied.
“And there’s your big heart and the way you love me. You’d stand between me and a bullet, and I know that.”
There was no doubt I would.
“The way you do whatever it takes to make me happy, even if it just means bringing me lunch.”
“You’ve thought about this,” I said as I dipped to kiss the hand now adorned with my family’s ring.
“Every day I think about how lucky I am,” she said. “I’ll never take what we have for grant—” She gasped and her eyes went wide. Grabbing my hand, she placed it on her slightly rounded belly. “Did you feel that?”