Page 49 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke (The Unwanted Sisters #3)

“So did you,” Wilhelmina murmured, her fingers brushing against his. “You looked… at ease. Happy.”

“It’s good to have people you can trust and rely on,” he said simply.

He reached out, letting his fingers run through her silky hair. He looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, and it made her breath catch.

“You—everything about you still undoes me.”

“Let it,” she whispered. “Don’t fight it.”

He bent to kiss her. It was a graze at first, almost imperceptible. Then, he nipped her lower lip and asked, “Shall we end our evening just as gloriously as it began?”

God, yes.

“Of course,” she breathed.“Everything will be glorious from now on.”

She moved her hand to her belly. Her bump was barely visible, but she could feel the life growing inside her.

“We’ve made a miracle. I-I never thought it would be possible. I’d given up on having children.”

Gerard closed his eyes, as if in pain. Wilhelmina knew that he was thinking of the moment he told her that he didn’t want another child after Hector.

For her, Hector had been enough, but there were moments during her first marriage when she did wonder if she could be content with not being a mother.

“I am so sorry, Mina, for the things I did. For the things I said.”

“Shhh. I am sorry, too. We can let go of the past now. We are looking at this. Only this. Only us. We have each other, Hector, and the baby. That’s what’s important.”

The words seemed to make something snap inside Gerard. He bent to her, lips grazing hers, teasing, testing. Then he claimed her fully, teeth and tongue chasing in a slow, searing kiss.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing closer, pulling him as near as possible. She arched, heart racing, body humming with the closeness she had craved all day. She traced him with greedy hands, feeling the solid warmth of him, the living, breathing man who loved her fiercely, completely.

Gerard could not believe that he had deprived himself of happiness for so long. He continued kissing Wilhelmina. His wife. Hector’s mother. His baby’s mother.

The soft press of her breasts against his chest made him groan. He would always want her. He knew it.

It had never been like this with Pamela. The passion he felt for Wilhelmina was driven by duty. Her belly brushed against his torso, and the knowledge that their child was growing there ignited his arousal.

He broke the kiss to look at her flushed face. They were both panting, trying to catch their breath.

Each time he kissed her, it was as if the world narrowed to the two of them. Her lips yielded beneath his, soft but demanding, teasing yet insistent. He could feel the pull of her hands against his chest, the way she pressed closer, seeking him as much as he sought her.

Her scent, the faint perfume, the warmth of her skin, drove a hunger he had no intention of denying.

Every brush of her mouth, every sigh caught between them, set a pulse racing through him.

He noticed the tilt of her head, the way her dark lashes fluttered when she lingered too long in the kiss, and it made him ache to know her more, to draw her even nearer.

It wasn’t just passion, though the fire was undeniable.

It was the quiet confidence she now had, the unspoken trust that allowed him to lose himself in her.

He felt her heart beating under his hand, a steady rhythm that matched his own, and it rooted him in the moment, demanding he be present entirely, for her and for himself.

Every kiss became a conversation without words; it became a promise, a confession, a tether between them. He savored the way her lips parted, the subtle surrender in her movements, how she leaned into him rather than away.

Gerard realized, with a pang of astonishment, that he had never desired anyone like this. Not just for her body—though that was undeniable—but for all the quiet, fierce, real pieces of her she revealed only to him.

And the more he kissed her, the deeper he fell into want, into the sheer certainty that he could not bear a moment apart from her.

“I want to see all of you, Mina,” he pleaded against her lips.

Soon, they were taking off their nightclothes, all while holding each other’s eyes. When Wilhelmina finally stood naked before him, he laid her on the bed.

Tenderness warred with feverish hunger.

“You’re so beautiful, Mina,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

Her hands moved over him with a certainty that stole his breath. Fingers traced the line of his collarbone, slid across the ridges of his chest, and lingered along the hard planes of his abdomen. Every touch was deliberate, intimate, as if she could speak the words he could not.

He felt it in the press of her palm, the gentle curl of her fingers over muscle and skin; they were all messages of forgiveness, of acceptance, of hope, carried silently.

His chest tightened as a low groan slipped past him; it was more than desire. It was recognition: she saw him, all of him, and embraced it.

The warmth of her hands made him shiver, made him ache to respond in kind. He wanted to mirror her touch, to let her know that he could be vulnerable and still be safe in her hands.

Each brush of her fingers pressed deeper into him, stirring both need and something fiercer, a devotion that had been building quietly, now impossible to deny.

He leaned into her, letting the contact anchor him, let her closeness steady the tumult of his mind.

Her touch was a language, and he understood every syllable, every caress, every silent declaration.

His erection lay on her belly, hard and eager for her warmth. When he eased himself between her thighs, she was already hot and slick for him. His fingers parted her folds and stroked her swollen nub, rubbing circles around it.

“Gerard, please,” she begged, her eyes fluttering shut as if savoring his touch.

“No, darling. Look at me,” he commanded gently. “I want to see your eyes when you fall apart.”

Her eyes opened, the desire in them mirroring his own. He watched her face as he slid two fingers in and out of her, all while stroking her nub. Her breath hitched, and her lips parted on a silent cry. He felt the first tremors as her walls clenched around his fingers.

“Come for me, my love,” he whispered.

Her back arched off the bed as pleasure crashed over her. Her eyes closed for a split second before they opened again, her pupils dilated with ecstasy. Her inner muscles rippled around his fingers, but before the tremors subsided, he thrust into her. Both of them cried out.

Wilhelmina was perfect, hot and tight around him. Gerard pushed into her up to the hilt, feeling the last flutters of her release.

He began moving in a slow, deep rhythm. It was about taking more of her. Being inside her. Being connected. Their eyes were open, full of love and desire. He thrust into her with purpose, egged on by her cries.

Wilhelmina wanted the same. She wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him deeper inside her. Her nails raked lightly over his back as his manhood grew harder and thicker. His pace quickened. Their cries were louder, more urgent, as they chased release together.

“Yes,” Wilhelmina moaned.

Gerard plunged into her over and over. Harder. Deeper. Then, he felt her walls clench around him as she climaxed once more. He immediately followed her over the edge.

His body shuddered violently with the force of his release.

“Well, it did end gloriously, as you wanted,” she breathed.

“We haven’t seen our ending, Mina. Far from it,” he promised.

The End?