Page 40 of The Duke of Fire (The Dukes of Desire #1)

T he bells of St. James were still ringing wildly when the wedding entourage welcomed Sebastian and Amelia with a flurry of flowers outside the church.

Everything seemed to work well for the day, with brilliant sunlight bathing the steps and the peonies decorating their path. Cheers erupted from the guests and a few onlookers, curious to see a duke married. Word had it, too, that this was definitely a love match.

Amelia trembled on Sebastian’s arm, but he kept her steady. His hand supported the small of her back as he whispered reassurances.

“Steady, my love,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Her smile was absolutely luminous, but Sebastian suspected that her nerves would bother her for most of the day. Still, her radiance could never be rivaled by any crown or jewelry.

In their carriage, he watched her intently. Her veil had been discarded, allowing her curls to tumble free. In contrast, her hands were properly folded in her lap, and her thoughts seemed to lie elsewhere. His stomach clenched at certain possibilities. Was she regretting all this?

But then, she turned her attention back to him and smiled softly.

“Sebastian, don’t you find this strange, as well?”

He chuckled, but she was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. So, he mulled it over and admitted, “Yes, but it is also extraordinary. Today reminded me even more of how fortunate I am to have met you.”

It was her turn to laugh, her eyes drifting to one side as if memories were coming over her.

“We met at a brothel on a rainy day. It is hardly the best of beginnings.”

“Mm. It just goes to show that even brothels have their miracles.”

She laughed again, the tension between them melting away. They sat in comfortable silence as they waited to reach their destination.

Finally, the carriage rattled in front of their now shared home, where the wedding breakfast was to be held with their friends and family.

The doors swung open, and the dowager duchess greeted them herself.

She was one of the first to leave the church, making this welcome possible.

In plum silk and her best diamonds, she looked regal as ever.

However, she was also warm, embracing Amelia and Sebastian in turns.

“You have done well, my boy,” she said, touching Sebastian’s cheek as she often did when he was much younger. Her eyes had a misty sheen, though she tried to keep her tone even. “I would like to live this wonderful day twice over.”

“Thank you, Grandmother. You have helped make this possible,” he murmured.

“I heard the thank-you a few times over,” the dowager said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Now, it is your turn to prove me right. A little birdie told me that you are an apt translator, Amelia. I hope you find some time to hone your talent now.”

“I am very eager to do that, Your Grace.” The dowager kissed Amelia’s cheek as she moved forward with the others.

Mary, who was standing in wait with the other servants, soon went to her mistress’s side, ready to assist at any given moment.

“Congratulations, Mi… Your Grace,” she said. Then, to Sebastian, she shyly muttered, “To you, too, Your Grace.”

He acknowledged it with a smile and a nod.

“Thank you, Mary. I am so glad you will be joining the staff at Firaine,” Amelia said.

“I am glad, too.”

Guests were already drinking champagne in the dining room, while musicians played in a corner. They stood up when the couple entered. Cassian and Benedict approached, with the former in high spirits. Both bowed in greeting.

“Our duchess must tell us how Sebastian managed to persuade her,” Cassian teased. “Did you use your wit and charm, or was this purely blackmail?”

“Oh, didn’t you know our friend is particularly stubborn? That is how he did it.”

“I am not sure she will survive being married to Sebastian. What do you think, Benedict?”

Benedict did not seem to be too eager to volunteer his opinion. It was clear that he had something else on his mind. While he ignored Cassian’s question, he was no less warm to Sebastian. He clasped his newly married friend’s hand and kissed Amelia’s own.

“May you two be happy for the rest of your lives,” he said. “Being a couple suits you both.”

“Happiness,” Cassian murmured, elbowing Benedict. “You should also be exuding it, don’t you think, Frostmore?”

Benedict glared at his friend. “That title is not yet final.”

“Stop being so modest and hiding behind propriety,” Cassian advised, grinning wickedly. “Word travels fast, anyway. It is best to tell your friends face-to-face. Benedict is the new Duke of Frostmore.”

Murmurs of delight spread through the room. Benedict did not look so happy, his jaw clenched, and his head bowed. Amelia gently touched his arm and said, “I do not doubt that you will do marvelously.”

He tilted his head gratefully at her.

Then, it was Serenity’s turn. She glided from across the room to Amelia’s side, giving her friend a big hug.

“You look radiant! I am so happy for you, Amelia! Should I be calling you ‘Your Grace’ now?”

“Serenity! Why would you do that?” she asked, smiling widely.

They all soon found a seat. The feast was sumptuous, and everyone looked as though they were hungry. After they had eaten a bit, Cassian leaned toward Sebastian and Amelia as if he was dying to tell them something.

“I did not want to say this earlier because Benedict despises gossip, but there has been word about Lady Warton,” he said in a low voice.

“W-what happened?” Amelia asked.

“She absconded with her lover and is now abroad but quite penniless.”

Sebastian felt his bride stiffen. He rubbed her arm to comfort her and asked Cassian, “What about Finch?”

“Ruined,” Benedict replied somberly. “He has sold most of his things to pay his debts. The ton shuns him now.”

Sebastian remembered how the man had hurt Amelia, not just once. He also did it in different ways—financially, emotionally, and physically.

“That is a fitting punishment for him,” he muttered. “He is now a pariah.”

“While they certainly made me suffer, I still wish that it had ended differently for them,” Amelia said.

Sebastian took his wife’s hand and kissed it. “We cannot save those who do not want to save themselves. You have already saved me enough, Amelia. Without you, I would still be wallowing in self-pity and hiding it in vice.”

The dowager stood up and watched everyone. She cleared her throat to call the attention of those who were still not looking at her.

“Everyone, enough whispering about scandals. We are not trying to fill a society column. This is a wedding day,” she said, her eyes glittering with mischief and approval.

Sebastian was beginning to truly appreciate his grandmother.

“I merely want to reiterate just how glad I am that my grandson has finally woken up and found himself a lovely bride.”

Everyone cheered and raised a toast to that. Soon, everyone had forgotten about gossip and enjoyed each other’s company, just truly being there for each other.

When another tune began after their meal, Sebastian leaned toward his wife. “Come,” he whispered. “I have had enough celebrating with everyone else today.”

She smiled and quickly followed him through the maze of corridors until they reached their adjoining bedchambers.

“So, what did you think of today?” he asked Amelia in their bedchamber.

“It was perfect.” She sighed happily.

It felt like a different kind of intimacy to see her there, knowing that she could stay without either of them trying to hide it.

She had quickly rid herself of her gown and sat in her chemise in front of her dresser.

Her brown curls tumbled down her shoulders, gleaming.

He longed to touch them and thread his fingers through the strands.

He groaned at the thought of getting work done in his study now that he knew that she lived under the same roof.

It would be torture.

He reached out for her, his hands trembling. He would not admit this to his friends, that even as a man, he was easily undone by his wife.

“Let me do that for you,” he offered, taking her brush gently from her hand.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I like this. Being with you like this.”

She might not have been able to explain herself clearly, but he knew what she meant. They did not have to say anything. They were just there together.

“Know this, Amelia. I would never harm you,” he said, fully aware of how this woman had gone through so much to even think of being someone’s wife.“I will live my life trying to make you happy.”

“I know, Sebastian,” she said, as she stood up and faced him.

That made him smile—seeing her look at him with trust shining in her eyes. Their bodies had a way of getting closer and closer without them truly realizing it. He brushed his lips against hers, and it was the only thing they needed to start the fire.

The kiss deepened, and she melted into him. Sebastian had to hold her against him, his tongue sweeping first her lower lip and then seeking entry. She parted her lips for him, moaning as their tongues finally met.

While waiting for their wedding, they had stayed away from each other. They had waited so long to make love once more. This time, they would do it without uncertainty. This time, they would do it to seal the vows they made.

They fell on the bed, a tangle of lips and limbs. He left a trail of kisses down her neck while Amelia let out a cry of surrender, letting her head fall back against the pillows. Then, finally, he found the hem of her chemise and pushed it upward.

Sebastian took a look at his wife, bare before him. She was slender but luscious in all the right places, with full breasts and hips, pink nipples, and a flat stomach. Even if she grew out of this youthful beauty, he would love her. He would love her in all her forms.

“You look delicious,” he praised, drawing out a surprised giggle from her.

He bent to prove it by taking one taut nipple in his mouth. He savored and teased the bud with his tongue and teeth. Then, he suckled hard while she writhed beneath him. She was losing control, but so was he.

He was not finished with his feast. He sucked the other breast and let his hot lips travel down her abdomen and between her legs, where she was hot, wet, and waiting for him.

He spread her wide and let his tongue travel up and down her seam.

He lapped at her slowly, then more insistently with gentle strokes and increased pressure.

When he made contact with her sensitive nub, she trembled with her first release.

“So wet,” he whispered against her, slipping in a finger.

She whimpered his name as her hips buckled under his ministrations, with him working a second finger into her while he continued to lick and suck.

“Like that,” she whimpered. “Right there.”

He felt satisfaction when her thighs clenched around his fingers, but it was time to feel her.

It was time to properly make love to her.

He moved gracefully between her legs and let the blunt head of his cock press into her.

She was so tight, and it was heaven to be buried inside her.

He liked to think that she was full of him.

Sebastian grunted as he tried to maintain control. He was fully sheathed, enjoying the sensation of their joining. Once more, they were one. The only difference now was that their hearts were also joined.

Amelia was not as patient. Her hips urged him to move, and he had no other choice but to obey. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back into her. Then, they had found a rhythm that they seemed to own. They found it more quickly this time, as their bodies moved in perfect harmony.

“Amelia,” he groaned into her neck. “You feel—”

He pounded some more until he felt her squeeze, milking every last drop. He drove into their orgasm, both of them shaking and sated and very much in love.

“At this rate,” he murmured, kissing her damp temple, “I might begin to believe that the gypsy was right.”

Amelia turned her head to blink up at him. “What gypsy?”

But he only smiled, drawing her tighter into his embrace.

“Another story for another day, my love,” he said.

The End?