Page 51 of His Temporary Duchess

“I—” Her back arched, and she jerked against his fingers. “Now,” she whispered.

He could not have held back if he tried. They both tumbled off the edge into ecstasy together, and when they had both come back to themselves, he wrapped her in his arms again, holding her close as sleep overcame them both.

Together.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sebastian cradled his wife in the dull glow of dawn and tried to imagine what had brought his life to this point. In truth, he had abandoned his plan of forcing her to annul the marriage a long time ago—it had merely taken him until that moment to come to terms with what it meant.

Forever. The golden band on her finger bound to him, and now he had given in and consummated the marriage, there could be no changing that. If she drew away from him now, it would not be to leave the marriage and start afresh.

The thought brought relief with it, so potent he could taste it, and he brushed her hair back from her slumbering face. The future was not at all guaranteed, of course, but now he had acknowledged that something lay between them, he did not have to force himself to let her go.

It was a foolish plan to begin with. Now they had come this far, he could admit that much to himself. Imagining she would beprepared to annul the marriage when, he now saw, she had done everything in her power to bring them closer together.

That had worked far better thanhisplan ever had.

He chuckled to himself. The fear of loss that never left him had not gone entirely, but it had faded. Shecould notleave now. Not without a divorce, and he knew she would not attempt something so difficult and scandalous.

His.He relished the thought.

She stirred a little, eyes opening in the dim light and fixing on him.

“Sebastian. You stayed.” Her lips curved up. “I didn’t know if you would.”

“From now on, you will join me in my bed at nights,” he said, and her smile widened. “I have had my fill of sleeping alone.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I gave up fighting a battle lost long ago.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “I do not know how to be a good husband, but I will try.”

“You need nothing more than this. Be with me. Stay with me. Wake with me in the mornings and fall asleep at night.”

A simple task.

“You told me once that we would find a way of healing one another,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder. “And you asked me to open my heart to you.”

“Alone, together,” she whispered.

“I am not an expert at this. It’s been a long time since I last attempted openness, but…” He hesitated, unsure how much of himself to give. “I’m tired of being alone.”

“You don’t have to be.” She smiled up at him, naked and lovely, and his chest cracked with how much he adored her. She had crept into his heart so silently, he hadn’t known she had made inroads, and now he did not think he could easily dig her out. “You have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Although he had known that, hearing the words relaxed something inside him, and he leaned over her to kiss her again. “Then neither am I, wife,” he said against her mouth. “Tell me, how do you feel?”

“Happy. And sore.” Her eyes sparkled up at him. “Though not too sore to try again, if you were of that mind.”

“Are you not tired?”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.”

He laughed, loud and surprised, and rolled her onto her back. “Well then, wife,” he said, smiling down at her face. He had not felt like this in years—light, a hot air balloon filled to its brim and rising into the air.

I’m happy, he realized with a start. And to think, all he had needed to do was sleep with his wife.

No, it was more than that. All he had needed to do was accept that she was a permanent fixture in his life. Once he had come to terms with it, everything else had followed.

“You are insatiable,” he cooed, nuzzling her cheek. He bit her lower lip, swallowing her gasp, then spread her legs. “I love it.”