Page 67 of Poison Nights & Twilight Alchemy
“Would you like to sleep?” He bit his lip, and any exhaustion she held dissipated.
“Perhaps later.” Dulce boldly stepped toward the bed, unfastening the buttons of her dress. Reed’s hooded gaze never wavered from hers as she peeled the fabric from her shoulders, letting the garments pool to the floor one after the other, until she stood bare before him. “Do you prefer to remain clothed, Mr. Hawthorne?”
Reed smirked, hurrying to remove his clothing, her heart pounding faster.
They studied one another’s forms, learning each line, each curve, each lovely flaw before he rasped, “I do believe we have a bed to share.”
Dulce laughed, then crawled into his lap, her legs cradling Reed’s strong thighs. His delicious hardnesspressed against her, and he sat forward, bringing his lips to the curve of her neck. She moaned, rolling her hips forward as his hands drifted to her hips.
Breathless, needing more of him, she raised slightly and slid down over his manhood, making them both gasp with pleasure.
Reed’s lips found hers, and as they gave and took, she never felt so beautiful and powerful as she did in that moment, sitting atop him, in control, both ravishing one another in exhilarating kisses.
Once bliss had conquered them both, Reed held her in his arms, and Dulce cozied up against him. She could hear the comfortable sound of his still-pounding heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of his chest.
Dulce lifted her head and pressed her lips to Reed’s. “Goodnight, Mr. Hawthorne.”
“Goodnight, Highness.”
Dulce awoke to find the airship floating downward to land. She and Reed hastily dressed and stared out the open window.Before theVelvet Noircame to a rest on the meadow just behind her home, she caught a glimpse through the spyglass of Sylvan and Lucas outside the front of the manor in the gardens, and she was thankful the young servant had returned home safely. Majestic as ever, her mother’s tree—perfect, whole, and alive. Every fiber of her being became fully relieved at the sight.
Reed raked a hand through his rumpled hair. “I’m sure the villagers are wondering what kind of magic thisaircraft is.”
“Something they’ll write stories about, I’m sure.” Dulce laughed.
Once they entered the late morning light, they didn’t retreat to the manor just yet—instead, they merely stood there, gaping at the airship as it lifted. It was one of the most extraordinary sights Dulce had ever seen.
Eventually, the flying machine disappeared from their sight, and she turned to face Reed, when he asked, “Is this where you tell me we should part ways, Highness?”
Dulce grasped his hand and smiled. “This is where I ask you to stay, Mr. Hawthorne.”
He tilted her chin up with his forefinger so their gazes held. “As your servant?”
“As my suitor.” There would be no other man in all the territories who she would want to court other than him.
“Ah, a pauper courting an heiress. How will the villagers of Moonglade take such news?” He grinned.
“You’ll be the town hero!” Dulce told him. “You would do well to prepare yourself now for the onslaught of your adoring public.”
“Nonsense.”
“After saving the world, it’s fact!”
Reed’s dark eyes became serious as he brought his face closer to hers. “I vow to court you in the way you deserve,” he promised. “I won’t take a single coin from you. I’ll find respectable work. And I will make certain to take you to the performing opera again.”
Dulce’s heart grew to the point she thought it would burst from happiness. “I have a secret,” she admitted.
“I love a good secret.” He rubbed his hands togetherin apparent anticipation. “Do tell.”
She laughed softly. “Last spring, Vesta foresaw a fortune for me in her tea leaves. She said the man who will own my heart entirely, and I his, is the one who will lift me from a most unfortunate and muddy circumstance.”
His grin grew wide, and he tugged a lock of her hair. “So youlikedme before we even met.”
Her cheeks heated. “I kept it to myself because I didn’t want you to think fate was choosing for you.”
“Fate can choose for me all it wants as long as it leads me to you, Ms. Bancroft.” Reed surprised Dulce by sweeping her off her feet and placing the most perfect of kisses against her lips.
EPILOGUE
Word quickly spread across Moonglade that the newlywed heiress hadn’t died, but rather she’d been poisoned by her lumpish pignut of a husband, who fled the village before the truth of her survival came to light.
But the heiress had a secret. That foiled murderer himself was no longer alive.
She kept his rotting corpse in her cemetery garden, where it remained beneath a thriving black baccara rose, a reminder to the heiress not to ever take anything in this life for granted. That tomorrow is promised to no one. It served as a remembrance to love and cherish those she held most dear, including the man whom a tea leaffortune predicted would someday come to be her true love.
The man who was now her beloved husband.
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