Page 208 of Desires of a Duke Collection

Several days later, Henry sat at the breakfast table, his appetite ravenous after his delectable night with his wife. He grinned, unable to hide the satisfaction and amusement that being married to Sophie brought forth in him.

He was the luckiest man alive, and no one could tell him otherwise.

His beautiful duchess entered the room, and a pang of alarm went off in his head at the shadows beneath her eyes. This evening he would allow her to sleep peacefully without any conjugal activities. Without a care for who was present, she kissed him good morning and sat at his side.

A footman poured her a cup of tea and placed toast before her, her usual breakfast he had not seen her deviate from since he'd returned home.

"Is everything well, my dear?" he asked her.

She nodded, sipping her tea and bringing a little of the color back to her cheeks. "I am well, thank you. Just a little tired, that is all." She bit into her toast

He periodically checked on her, not entirely sure she was telling the truth. Her masticating of the toast appeared slow and with little enthusiasm. "Are you certain you are well, my love?"

Sophie picked up her tea and sipped. "Certainly, and I'm about to be picked up by Lady Hervey. We're to Bond Street this morning. She's sponsoring her husband's younger twin sisters next Season and thought I might be able to help her since I'm familiar with the process. I said that I would. I hope you do not mind."

"Not at all," he said, glad she was making friends and enjoying London and what was left of the Season. "When did you meet Lady Hervey?" he asked.

"Before our wedding, we had chatted at a couple of events. She's of similar age to me and is friends with everyone we know."

Henry smiled, feeling for the first time a notion of contentment they had not had before. Since they had repaired the damage that Lord Carr had driven between them, the past several days had been incredible, and each day he marveled at how lucky he was that Sophie was his wife.

Sophie set her teacup down. "Please leave us," she ordered the footmen, who did as she asked and left them alone, closing the door behind them. Henry glanced up, curious. "Was there something you wished to say in private?"

She slipped from her chair and came to stand beside him. He chuckled when she sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "No, I just wanted some time in your arms before I leave for the day. I believe we're to have lunch at the countess's house. I shall not see you until this evening."

"I shall miss you too." And he would. He had grown so used to having Sophie with him most hours of every day that, at times, he wondered what he did before they were married. How tiresome and lonesome life had been then.

"I shall miss you more," she replied, stealing a kiss.

One would never be enough, and he clasped her cheek, bringing her back for more. Hunger and need tore through him and one that she did not try to bank.

She kissed him back, and his body roared to have her. Before he could think better of it or where they were, he pushed the dishes aside on the table and slipped Sophie onto it, stepping between her legs.

He gathered up her gown, running his hand against her wet mons. She threw back her head and moaned, reveling in his touch.

"I want you," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Yes," she agreed, but he could not. She was about to go shopping, and his having her would delay her day out, and she deserved a lovely jaunt with friends. But nor could he deny them what they both wanted. It would not hurt her friend to wait five more minutes.

He sat back on the chair, and she threw him a curious look before he pushed against her stomach. "Lie down, Sophie. I have not finished my breakfast."

She bit her lip, her eyes flaring wide at his meaning before she did as he asked, giving herself to him without argument. His need meant he did not dally but went straight to her mons. He licked the sweet nectar between her legs, paying homage to her nubbin that soon begged for attention.

She was wet, and he delved his tongue along her weeping lips, the sound of her pleasure, her enjoyment, music to his ears.

He entered her with his fingers, teasing her from within, and she squirmed. Her hands clasped the hair on his head, directing him, grinding his mouth where she liked it most.

His name slipped from her lips as he felt the first tremors of her release. She rode his hand as he fucked her notch with his tongue, wringing every ounce of satisfaction he could.

She lay on the table for a moment or two, bare and open to his gaze. The most perfect view in all of London, he was sure.

She held out her hand, and he helped her to sit up, settling her dress about her legs. The smile on his lips could not be tamed.

"Well, if I were not awake before, I certainly am now," she teased, sitting on his lap again. "You are as wicked as you are good," she said.

"Think of me when you're out today, and I shall do the same."

She kissed the tip of his nose and stood.

"What are you purchasing today, my love? Surely it is not more gowns."

A knowing light entered her eyes as she went and stood before the mirror hanging above the fireplace and adjusted her hair. "Nothing in particular, but I do wish to buy some clothing for the nursery, new blankets, and order some toys. Small items such as those."

Henry's heart froze, and he stood, his chair scraping the parquetry floor and making a godawful sound. "Wh-what did you say?" His mouth gaped, and he closed it, the thoughts in his mind moving a million times too fast.

"For the baby we're going to have, my darling," she said, glancing over her shoulder, her smile as joyful as his.

He closed the space between them, reaching for her hands. "You're going to have a baby? We're going to have a baby?" The words were foreign, but wonderful too.

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Are you happy?"

Henry wrenched her into his arms, promising never to let her go, never to let anything happen to her. "It is wonderful news, my love. A child, our child, well, you have made me the happiest of men." He could not believe the news. He was going to be a father.

She clasped his face, chuckling. "Can you imagine a little Lord or Lady running about our home? I cannot wait to meet the baby."

He marveled at her, unable to comprehend how happy one man could be. "Boy or girl, they will be loved equally. I'm so happy, Sophie. I love you so." He could not stop hugging her. In fact, he was unsure if he would ever be able to stop. Not that she seemed to care.

"I love you too, Henry." She stepped out of his arms. "But now I must go shopping. I have a baby to prepare for."

"Mayhap it would be best if I accompany you, my love. I do not want you carrying anything heavy. We must take better care of you," he said, remembering their escapades on the table, not to mention this morning in bed.

Damn it all to hell, he was a rogue who needed to allow his expectant wife to rest.

She chuckled and started for the door. "Best grab your coat and hat then, Your Grace. The carriage waits for no one," she teased.

He followed close on her heels, unsure he would ever be doing anything different for the rest of their splendid life.

Not that he would have it any other way.

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