Page 21 of Duke of Ruin (The Four Dukes #2)

EPILOGUE

ONE MONTH LATER

“ N o undergarments?” Ambrose asked, then groaned as he rested his forehead against Barbara’s cinched, ivory tulle-wrapped waist. “God, I love you,” he groaned, his voice muffled.

Barbara laughed softly, her voice thick with happiness as she buried her fingers into his dark blonde hair and tugged playfully, earning her another groan and the tightening of his fingers on her bare cheeks. He then lowered his forehead to where her skirts had bunched up and dipped between her legs.

“We will be in here all night if you start that,” she moaned softly but relaxed her back into the wall all the same as Ambrose’s tongue swept over her mons. “We… we have—oh! We have to be quick, remember?”

Ambrose grumbled something in dissent against her sex but pulled away obediently. Barbara felt a pang of loss as he did so, but she reassured herself that they would have time for that later. For now, they had guests to get back to.

“Are you disappointed we did not wait until our wedding night?” Ambrose asked, then kissed her passionately before spinning her around and pressing her hands against the wall.

“No,” Barbara moaned, her body quivering with anticipation as she listened to his breathing and the sound of his breeches sliding down his thighs.

Seconds felt like torturous minutes as her body only grew more sensitive with the wait, but finally, she felt his fists bunch up the hem of her skirts, and she sighed in relief when she felt his hard length slide fully inside of her. Her walls tightened around him and slickened as he began to move inside of her, and she pressed her lips together tightly in an attempt not to scream her pleasure.

No, she did not regret not waiting at all. This was exactly what she wanted on her wedding day, especially with Ambrose. He had earned a slap or two more beforehand, but in terms of waiting to consummate their love, neither felt it necessary to wait until their wedding night.

The wedding that had just taken place was a little grander than her attempted first, but it was still intimate with a guest list consisting of only their dear friends and close family members. Also, unlike the first, she had agreed to a church wedding by Helena’s standards—with brilliant bouquets of flowers, beautiful swathes of fabric, and a real wedding gown made of silk and ivory tulle.

Ambrose had all but begged her to add a touch of green that resembled her eyes, and when he had seen the glittering purplish-green thread sewn delicately into the lace at her shoulders, waist, and skirt hem as she walked down the aisle, those blue-grey flames she loved so much sparked in his eyes.

“What if we said to hell with the reception?” Ambrose moaned in her ear, his lips dragging across her earlobe in a deliciously sensual way. “What if I snuck you into a carriage after this and we go home and do this right?”

Barbara’s laugh was throatier and softer, a sound that made his hips pump faster, and she pressed herself further into him as she arched her backside a tad more.

Ambrose moaned, his grip on her waist growing tighter as he somehow thrust into her harder and faster.

“Not fair,” he groaned, but when Barbara then squeezed her inner muscles, he exploded.

His low growl was muffled by her throat as he buried his teeth there, and Barbara felt her own release uncoil as his seed pumped into her. Their bodies rocked together rhythmically, transitioning from hard and fast to slow and sensual until Ambrose released both his teeth and his cock.

Barbara felt their combined release trickle down her thighs as he let her go, and she could not help but smile wickedly at the sensation.

“You cannot steal me away,” she panted softly, letting him kiss up the column of her neck lovingly, over the bite marks she felt there, then up to her ear. “Besides, we leave for our honeymoon right after this. You can do anything you want to me as soon as we are in the carriage.”

Ambrose hummed in approval, and oh so gently he cleaned her inner thighs with his kerchief.

“This shall be my favorite kerchief from now on,” he whispered to her, pocketing it with one hand as he lowered and smoothed her skirts down with the other. “I shall be taking it with me every time I have to leave.”

“You are foul.” Barbara laughed, turning in his arms.

“I prefer obscene.” Ambrose smirked, pulling her to him.

They felt one another’s smiles as they kissed again. Barbara relished the feel of her breasts squished against his, remembering how she had once missed his heat so terribly. As if Ambrose sensed this, his larger body all but enveloped hers, and he held her so close and so tenderly that she almost pushed away from the intimacy.

“I love you,” he whispered, nuzzling her ear.

Her throat closed up as a rebellious tear spilled down her left cheek, and she pressed her face tightly into his jacketed chest.

“And I love you,” she whispered back, still not believing that she could hear and say such words.

“Bloody hell, you are as bad as Duncan with that little cuff thing he has for Alice,” Morgan grumbled, his eyes fixed on Barbara.

“Your jealousy is showing,” Ambrose drawled, his eyes sliding over to his wife.

Barbara was standing nearby with Helena, Alice, and Lydia, her side facing them. The bite mark he left on her neck stood out starkly, and he felt a wicked sense of glee fill him as he saw it.

“Damn right I am jealous,” Morgan scoffed, looking down at his drink with a frown. “First Duncan, and now you. When is it my turn?”

“When you grow up,” Ezra retorted in a bored tone.

Ambrose and Duncan chuckled as Morgan scrunched his face then downed his drink.

“You are quite lucky that her father and uncle chose not to attend your little reception. Reuben would have shot you in the chest the moment he saw it, married or not,” Duncan said, as if hating to admit it. “Though I do understand what it is like to not be able to control yourself.”

He sounded so purely tortured that Ezra actually chuckled.

“You all right, old boy?” Ambrose asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at his masked friend.

Duncan groaned and rubbed the unmasked side of his face. “I do not know what happens to women when they become pregnant, but they are… insatiable. ”

All three men perked up immediately, even Ezra’s normally bored expression turning into one of piqued curiosity.

“What is this now?” Ambrose asked, his eyes darting to Barbara.

She was insatiable as it was, much to his gratitude, but could it be possible for her to be even more so? Though he had climaxed but an hour ago, his cock stirred at the thought, and he willed it to stay down.

“I swear,” Duncan went on, shaking his head as his eyes remained on his sweet, innocent-looking wife. “Vicious even, at times. I love it— God, do I love it, but sometimes I feel as if she is sucking my very soul out of my?—”

“God, I need to get married,” Morgan muttered bitterly, cutting him off.

“It does seem slightly more appealing now,” Ezra mused, his expression turning thoughtful as he settled back into his usual lounging position.

“Marriage is not boring or dull as our peers have made it out to be, gentlemen,” Duncan stated, as if he were a general speaking to his soldiers. “Not if you choose the right woman. Do you not agree, Ambrose?”

“Wholeheartedly,” Ambrose agreed, his eyes still fixed on Barbara.

She had caught him staring twice now but only gave him a sultry smile and a wink every time.

“I would like to go get my marriage started, actually,” he added, turning toward his friends as Barbara’s last wink nearly had him bursting out of his breeches.

“I believe that is our friend’s way of telling us it is time to leave,” Ezra mused, but he did not rise from his seat.

“Tell us about your honeymoon first,” Morgan drawled lazily, sinking down into a chair beside him.

“How about I throttle you both, instead?” Ambrose retorted, and his friends laughed.

“If you don’t play now, they shall just torture you into staying here longer,” Duncan warned, laughing. “Trust me, the three of you played the same game right before Alice and I left for our honeymoon. Not so fun on this side, is it?”

“Just tell us about your honeymoon, and we shall leave,” Morgan said with a wide smile.

Though Ambrose doubted it, he obliged.

“We are going somewhere private,” was all he was willing to share.

“Details!” Morgan demanded, but Ambrose only smirked defiantly.

“He will not say,” Ezra muttered, picking at his jacket. “I have already tried.”

He knew, just as he had known where Ambrose actually was when he had said he’d left for Larsen. Just in case something happened.

Barbara and Ambrose would go to Ambrose’s country estate, but they were telling no one they were there, and they would not attend any parties or events. They would even be using a skeleton staff, who Ambrose had already paid extra well in advance to ensure their respect and secrecy.

“And Helena?” Duncan asked, motioning toward Ambrose’s little sister. “You know she is welcome to stay with Alice and I as long as she wants. Camilla and Thomas absolutely adore her.”

Ambrose felt a pang of guilt as Duncan brought up the young duke and his sister that the four of them had taken under their wing. Morgan, and now Duncan since he had returned, were the ones most active in the children’s lives, but Ambrose knew he should have at least visited the orphaned siblings.

“She would love that,” he replied, giving him a grateful nod. “And Barbara and I shall visit the children once we return from our honeymoon.”

`Duncan agreed that the children would love that, and then he reached for Morgan to haul him to his feet. “All right, we have tortured this man long enough,” he declared, clapping Morgan on the back. “Let him say his goodbyes so he may finally be alone with his wife.”

“You really are lucky, mate,” Morgan said sincerely, embracing Ambrose. “Congratulations, truly.”

“Thank you, brother,” Ambrose replied, returning the embrace. “Do not worry, your turn shall come.”

“Right,” Morgan muttered in a defeated tone, moving away to let Duncan say his goodbyes next.

“Stay as long as you all like,” Ambrose said as he moved through their hugs. “The room and food are all paid for until tomorrow morning.”

Morgan made a joke about using the room for other purposes, and Ezra and Duncan wrestled with him as Ambrose strode toward Barbara. She turned to him with the most seductive smirk, and he chuckled darkly as he reached for her.

“We are leaving already?” she asked, amusement lacing her voice as she moved into his arms.

“We have toasted with our friends, we have danced, we have had cake,” he murmured, grinning as he gripped her hand and brought it to his lips. “Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

He placed a soft kiss on her palm, and her eyes sparkled.

“I cannot think of a thing,” she replied, her sultry voice dipping into a sweet, alluring tone.

They hurried through the rest of their goodbyes, Ambrose only pausing when it came to Helena.

“Tell Ezra if you need me,” he told her for the hundredth time. “He shall know how to reach me.”

“I know!” Helena groaned, then smiled as she threw her arms around him. “Go, brother, so you may bring my new sister back sooner.”

She shoved at him playfully, and Ambrose chuckled as he kissed her cheek.

Once they were finally done with their goodbyes, Ambrose scooped Barbara up into his arms and carried her out to the carriage. Their lips were already fused before the carriage even began to move.

“Should we wait until we are out of the city limits?” Barbara managed to get out between their kisses and heavy breaths.

“No,” Ambrose growled, his hand reaching out to pull the curtains down the windows.

Darkness enveloped them, and Barbara moaned as she scrambled to straddle his lap.

“Thank heavens,” she whispered.

Ambrose smiled as he heard the genuine relief in her voice. “My nymph,” he whispered, and they gave in to one another.

The End?