Page 42 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke (Regency Beasts #3)

As he approached the glittering room and edge of the tub, Cecilia's eyes trailed down the sleek, wet lines of his chest. He looked like something carved of warm stone and shadows. She loved him with an ache that never quite dulled.

"How did you know I wanted a bath?" she sounded from where she cradled around him.

"Trust me. Reading your mind is all I wish to learn," he responded.

"Well, that would make thing easier for sure," she joked back.

She let him untie her robe and slide it down her shoulders. When it hit the floor, there was no awkwardness, no fear. Only skin meeting his eyes, hungry and soft all at once, taking her in.

As he placed her gently into the warm water, he pulled her gently onto his lap, her knees straddling him. The warmth of the water filled them like a breath, touching their skin.

And then she shivered. Not from cold, but from the sudden intimacy of being this close, in this new way.

Theo held her waist like she was something sacred. His hands knew her now. Not just her body, but her rhythm. He exactly knew when she needed his touch, his silent assurance. And then she leaned into the touch like a promise.

"These seven nights…" he began, voice low, lips brushing her collarbone. "They were never meant to be the end."

She arched slightly, her fingers tangling in the wet strands of his hair. "No?"

"They were only the beginning," he murmured. "The prologue. What comes next, what we build, will be the story."

"And what kind of story shall we write?" she asked, tilting her head back as he trailed kisses along her throat.

"A dangerous one," he whispered. "Beautiful. Scandalous. The kind no one dares speak aloud, but everyone dreams about in the quiet of the night."

Her body trembled against his, every word brushing over her skin. "That's a very ambitious plan, husband."

"I am a very ambitious man," he said, and then he was kissing her fully, deep, reverent, as if the moment demanded something more than simple affection. As if it demanded surrender.

Cecilia responded with all the love that had filled her since that first night in the corridor, when he winked and walked away and changed the course of her life forever.

The bathwater moved around them in soft bubbles. She gasped slightly as he adjusted her position, his hands guiding her with careful patience. When their mouths meet again, there was no shyness or slowness.

"Ow!" Cecilia broke out a nasty sound when he playfully spanked and squeezed her butt.

"I want to please you, my lady. For the rest of your life." he sucked her throat.

And she, in turn, traced her hands across her spine, across his familiar scars near his ribs, while whispering his name softly.

Water moved gently around them, soaking their bodies with softness. This moment was nothing like the others. It was slow, intimate, and sacred.

They didn't speak for a long time. There were no words necessary to be very honest.

Theo pressed his forehead to hers and her fingers combed through his thick hair.

A moan escaped her when his fingers swam through the water and found her clit, rubbing gently and seductively.

But she was immediately silenced by another of his shuddering kisses.

"I want to make sweet love to you, my lady. I have wanted to do that the moment we exchanged vows," he spoke before his mouth dropped to her breasts.

She had a perfect response but she couldn't form words at his seductive torture. All she could offer were moans. The taste of his lips taking turns with her nipples and his fingers pumping into her were enough to leave her disoriented.

"Come closer. Sit on me. Ride me like I belong to you," Theo's tone turned even darker and it turned her on even more.

She obeyed, shifting even closer till she was sitting on his erection. And with a satisfied sigh, she began to move up and down him.

"Sweet Cecilia, you will be the death of me," Theo groaned before pulling her even closely and then taking control.

She felt happy tears gather around the corner of her eyes as the love of her life pounded into her.

"I think," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion and something else—something tender—"that I've never loved anything as much as I love you."

She smiled against his skin. "Even more than scandal?"

He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her. "Even more than that. Though I must say, being scandalous with you is quite the reward," he added breathlessly.

She nuzzled his neck. "I should hope so," she said before her voice faded into a moan.

They stayed like that for a while, having the most endearing moment in the bathtub.

The world outside continued on—stars in the sky, waves caressing the cliffs below—but inside that room, time had paused. Every other thing didn't matter.

Eventually, he lifted her from the water, wrapping her in a thick towel before gathering her into his arms like she weighed nothing. She stuck to him with sleepy contentment, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

"Carry me forever?" she murmured.

"Until I am too old to lift you," he said, brushing his nose against hers, "and even then, I'll drag you along behind me."

She laughed, soft and delighted, and he kissed the corner of her mouth.

Their bedroom was dim, a fire crackling low in the hearth. Perfect, just the way they loved it.

He placed her gently on the bed, before covering her with heavy sheets. Then he joined her on the bed.

There was nothing left to prove. No more nights to count. No more walls to tear down. No more lists to mark.

Just the quiet sound of her breath, and the way his thumb traced lazy circles against her shoulder.

And when sleep began to take over her, her fingers wrapped with his, and then she whispered one final thought,

"I don't want a perfect life, Theo. I only want ours."

He smiled into her hair and whispered back, "Then ours it shall be."

Outside, the wind kissed the windows. The moon watched in silence. And in that bed, tangled together, husband and wife, their story truly began.

And it was never anything less than extraordinary.

The End?