Page 18 of My Demanding Duke (Forbidden Love #2)
THREE MONTHS LATER …
After years of tension, worry, and uncertainty, Anna’s life had finally settled into something that felt whole.
Even her father had improved. Since the night Hugh had “won” her, Lord Mosley had stayed away from the tables. Their relationship was fragile but it grew stronger with each month that passed in which her father did not break her trust.
Anna had everything she never dared hope for—even things she had never dreamed to hope for, like a duke for a husband.
She almost felt a little guilt that she was about to shock her husband senseless.
“You’ve made us pass Bond Street three times,” Hugh said, glancing out the window with a frown. “We’ll have to stop to change horses if we do another circiut.”
Anna smiled, nestled in her blue velvet cape with the silver fox fur at the collar — the one she knew he liked, because he had once whispered that he dreamed of her naked beneath it.
“I asked the driver to go slowly,” she said mildly.
“Why?”
“Because I wish to speak privately. Without footmen hovering.”
He raised a brow. “My dear, I believe you are about to shock me.”
“The first part will be good news, I can’t guarantee that the second part won’t shock.”
She drew the carriage curtains shut. The bustle of London faded away, replaced with intimate dimness.
“I’m increasing,” she said softly, nervously.
Hugh went very still.
“Are you certain?” he asked at last, his voice low and thick with wonder.
She nodded.
He exhaled, then groaned — not with displeasure, but joy so full and fierce it was nearly overwhelming. “God help me,” he muttered, “I must find you a new maid. A new nurse. A physician. No, two physicians. You mustn’t walk anywhere unaccompanied. Or lift anything heavier than a tea cup. No riding. No—”
“Hugh,” she interrupted, laughing. “You cannot wrap me in cotton wool for nine months.”
He gave her a look of sheer exasperation. “I can try.”
Her husband had changed so much over the last few months, but his first reaction was still to protect.
“Well, then,” Anna said, her tone mock-thoughtful, “If you’re going to turn into a protective tyrant, I suppose we must stop making love.”
That shut him up.
Completely.
“I mean,” she continued, reaching for the silver clasp at her throat, “if you are to become the Duke of Do’s and Don’ts, surely such pleasures are off limits?”
The silver fox fur slipped from her shoulders. The cape opened.
She wore nothing beneath.
Hugh stared.
“Anna.”
“You told me once you dreamed of me naked beneath this cape,” she said, tilting her head innocently. “That you dreamed of making love to me in a moving carriage. This might be our only opportunity but, if you’re concerned I’m too delicate…”
Hugh gave a groan of pure hunger as desire won out against reservation. He dragged her into his lap, hands already roaming beneath the soft weight of the cape.
He kissed her with open-mouthed need, then trailed lower, his lips closing around her nipple. She gasped, rocking against the bulge in his breeches. Her fingers worked fast, undoing his fall of his breeches, freeing him.
His cock sprang free, thick and hard with desire. She rose onto her knees and, with a shared look of wicked delight, sank down on him slowly, gasping as he filled her.
Hugh gripped her hips, groaning aloud. “Christ, woman.”
They moved together, the carriage rocking in time with their rhythm. Her fingers twisted in his cravat as she rode him harder, the velvet brushing against her thighs, her back arching as he took one breast in his mouth again.
When she came, it was with a soft cry muffled against his throat — and he followed with a sharp curse and a shudder that shook them both.
For a long moment, they simply held each other. Breathing. Smiling. Entwined in love and heat and shared pleasure.
“I love you,” Anna whispered as leaned back to look into his eyes, her heart so full it might burst.
“And I love you,” he solemnly replied. “And I love the child we created together already.”
His hand stroked her hip, his eyes wondering at her still flat stomach.
“As much as I love you,” he continued, as he lifted her from his lap, tucking the cape back around her solicitously. “I think you are fit for bedlam.”
She gave a squeal of protest at his words, which he silenced with a wave of his hand.
“I married a woman who seduced me in a public carriage while pregnant,” he said dryly. “It’s safe to say I’ve joined you in your madness.”
She smiled, rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes as he pulled her against him.
This wild, beautiful madness they shared was love, she was sure of it.
And love, she thought, was the one wager she’d gladly lose again and again.