Page 63 of Scoundrel Take Me Away (Dukes in Disguise #3)

Lucy raised her knees to cradle Gabriel between her legs, holding him tightly to her. The move tilted her hips up, allowing him to sink another inch into her, and she gasped at the depth of his penetration.

And then he started to move.

The leaves and stars above her blurred; her temples were wet with tears she was barely conscious of spilling.

All she knew was the primal pounding of Gabriel’s hips, the swift, sizzling friction of his thick male member pulling back until only the head remained inside her, then plunging deep, over and over and over until she was nothing but need.

She was greedy, Lucy thought dizzily. Everything he gave her only made her want more. Harder. Deeper.

When he hooked an arm under her left knee and tugged it higher, opening her more fully to his invasion, Lucy gave an exhilarated shout. Every thrust now seemed to strike something inside her that made sparks burst behind her eyes.

The little bud at the top of her cleft swelled, on fire from the rough beat of his body against hers, and when they crashed together like waves dashing against a cliff wall, she exploded into a million tiny points of light.

“Ah, Lucy,” he gritted out when he felt the sharp squeeze of her internal muscles, the involuntary clenching Lucy couldn’t help, that drew the pleasure out into an endless, cresting peak that climbed higher and higher as Gabriel jerked into her strongly, then stilled with a groan.

He collapsed to the side, turning her to face him so that they remained joined in the most intimate way two people could be.

Because he knew Lucy hated the moment when he would pull out, and they would be two separate people once again.

He knew she loved this moment, the calm after the storm, as much as the tempest of pleasure itself.

“We are so good at that,” Lucy sighed, nestling her head into the hollow of his shoulder and relishing the feel of his clothed body along her naked form.

“I didn’t think we could improve on our early efforts,” Gabriel agreed, smoothing her curls and pressing a kiss to her forehead that made Lucy close her eyes in bliss. “But somehow it just gets better and better.”

“It’s because there are no more secrets and lies and hidden identities and lost memories and secrets getting in the way. The only thing between us is love.”

She glanced up in time to see the broken-open look on his face, the same look he always got when she said she loved him. Even after all these months, it still came as a shock to him, every time. Maybe it always would.

That was all right, Lucy thought, snuggling down in his arms and listening to the sounds of their land, the rustle of wind in the trees and the bleating of the sheep in the far pastures. The thud of her husband’s heart.

“No more secrets,” he rumbled sleepily in her ear, and Lucy smiled.

“Well,” she said, fizzing with too much happiness to contain, “perhaps one more…”

“What?” Gabriel suddenly sounded more alert. “What do you mean?”

“This secret is new,” Lucy assured him, propping herself up on one elbow. “And it’s only little. Too small to be seen from the outside.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, following the motion of her hand as she curved it gently over the still-flat plane of her belly.

“Lucy. Are you… Are we—?” He nearly choked on the words, the emotion behind them was so raw.

Fierce with tenderness, Lucy lifted the hand from her stomach to the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. “Yes. We’re having a baby.”

A harsh noise broke from him. Lucy breathed it in and smoothed her hand over his throat and his chest and his back, everywhere she could reach.

“Damn it,” he said, sounding winded. “Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more. You’re determined to keep surprising me, aren’t you, Lively?”

“Not Lively anymore,” Lucy reminded him, deep satisfaction curling her toes. “I’m a de Vere now.”

“Mm,” he rumbled. “And a duchess, no less. My beautiful, bold, brazen hussy of a duchess.”

“That’s Your Grace , to you,” Lucy sniffed, settling back down as exhaustion pulled at her limbs.

“How are you, Your Grace?” Gabriel asked, one of his dexterous, long-fingered hands drifting from her nape to the top of her buttocks. “I want to know it all. Don’t spare my blushes. Every detail now, out with it.”

“I feel fine,” Lucy said, laughing into his jacket. “I get tired a little quickly, perhaps. And I’ve noticed a few small changes in my body?—”

“Here,” he said, cupping a proprietary, protective hand around her breast, which swelled to meet his palm as though she hadn’t just climaxed hard enough to see stars. “Your nipples are even more sensitive than usual. And it could be the moonlight, but they’re a shade darker as well, I believe.”

“I don’t know about that. You would be the expert on that topic,” Lucy said, muffled. Ridiculous to blush, after everything they’d done. Everything they were still doing. But she didn’t think she’d ever get over the intense enjoyment Gabriel took in her body.

No one could make her feel as wanted, as desired, as necessary as Gabriel did.

“Soon, your hips will round,” he said now, sweeping his palm down her waist to rest on the lean curve of her hip. His tone was almost gloating, definitely anticipatory, as though he couldn’t wait to catalogue every change her body went through as it harbored their child. “And your belly will grow.”

“And my feet will swell.” Lucy laughed. “And my back will ache, and I’ll need to visit the necessary ten times an hour. I’ll crave strange foods.”

“I’ll anoint your feet with rose-scented salve,” he promised, extravagant as always.

“I’ll rub your back. I’ll carry you to the necessary in my arms, no matter how many times you have to go.

I’ll spoon-feed you ices flavored with pickled beets or smoked kippers lightly sauced with caramel.

You will be the most spoiled, pampered pregnant wife the world has ever known. ”

“I like the sound of that,” Lucy said, heart exploding with love.

“Whatever my duchess desires.” Gabriel’s voice was a vow, as dark and serious as a knight swearing fealty to his queen.

Tears threatened, another small change Lucy had noticed. Her emotions were right at the surface, constantly.

“All I want is you,” she sniffed. “Us. Our family.”

“A family,” he repeated, voice husky with emotion. “Yes.”

Families were complicated, Lucy mused as she began to drowse, safe and warm and protected in the shelter of Gabriel’s hard body.

Her mother and Gemma still didn’t fully understand or approve of Lucy’s marriage, though Henrietta had wept happy tears at the wedding and Gem had been wise enough to put on a happy face, once Lucy had shouted at her about her lemon-sucking expression.

Gemma’s husband, Hal, hadn’t quite come around on even Nathaniel yet; Gabriel was going to take him a little longer.

Bess and Nathaniel were easier to convince, and Gabriel’s cousin Dominic had been positively delighted to be asked to stand up with him at the wedding.

Lord Roman had also attended, grave and reserved, but warm when he’d shaken Lucy’s hand at the wedding breakfast.

Gabriel had forgiven him, Lucy knew, but a true reconciling would take more work.

She had high hopes; she knew the breadth of emotion Gabriel was capable of.

Some of her favorite guests at their wedding hadn’t been family, in the traditional sense, at all.

Charlie and Molly had attended, in their Sunday best, and they’d been pleased to be seated near Albert Farthingdale at the breakfast. Farthingdale, whom Lucy had startled with a loud, smacking kiss to the cheek when she met him, forever thankful for all he’d done for Gabriel—both when he was a boy, and when he’d needed one last push to put out both hands and seize happiness before it slipped from his grasp forever.

“Our family will be whatever we make it,” she whispered to Gabriel, and felt some of the tension melt from his muscular frame. “This child will grow up knowing he or she is loved. Not just accepted for everything he or she is, but treasured.”

“Yes.” His voice shook. “Yes.”

Chest aching, softened all over with love, Lucy turned her face up for a kiss. “I love you, Gabriel. Every part of you.”

“My wife,” Gabriel said, quietly and somewhat nonsensically, but Lucy knew what he meant.

She knew him well, after all. And he knew her, though they still spent every day discovering new things to love in each other.

She hoped they never stopped.