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The silk loosened around her shoulders. His fingertips traced the newly exposed skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. She closed her eyes at the sensation, at the tender exploration that felt like worship.

When she opened them again, he was watching her with such intensity that her breath caught in her throat. He bent to press his lips to the curve where her neck met her shoulder, and she gasped, clutching his arms for support.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against her skin.

“You,” she answered simply. “Just you.”

His hands trembled slightly as they continued their careful undressing, each new revelation met with gentle touches and quiet wonder. The weight of their shared history—all the misunderstandings, the distance, the longing—seemed to dissolve with every barrier that fell away between them.

When her gown slipped to pool at her feet, leaving her in only her thin chemise, she felt no shame under his gaze. There was only the warmth of being truly seen, truly wanted.

He drew her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair as it came loose from its pins.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, the words brushing against her ear. “More than I deserve.”

“Let me decide what you deserve,” she replied, her hands working at the buttons of his waistcoat.

The candlelight cast golden shadows across his features as she helped him shed his formal attire.

He kept his shirt on, and she didn’t press, sensing his hesitation.

Instead, she focused on the warmth of his skin beneath the linen, the powerful lines of his shoulders, the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.

He lifted her effortlessly, laying her gently across the bed before joining her there, his body a welcome weight against hers. The thin chemise was the last barrier between them, light enough that she could feel the heat of him through the fabric.

His hand slid slowly up her leg, caressing her calf, her knee, the sensitive skin of her thigh, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

“I’ve been starving for you since I saw you,” he whispered, “I dreamt of your thighs parted and my name on your tongue. Now that I have you, I won’t stop. Not until you beg for more.”

He kissed her. Her fingers slid into his hair, and her mouth opened under his. She freely offered her lips and he plundered them. His tongue touched and teased hers, then took possession.

His hands slid to her breasts and cupped them in his palms. Her nipples tightened under his touch. She arched her back, pushing herself fully against him. His mouth was on her flesh, and he trailed his tongue across her breast until he circled her nipple.

Selina let out a sound of pleasure and dug her fingers into his neck.

“I need your moans more than I need to breathe.” His voice is rough, desperate. “Now give them to me.”

She slid her hands down to explore his body, moving across his hips until she grasped the hard length of him.

“Heavens, Duchess. You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to ruin you just like this,” he grunted hungrily, meeting her touch with his own.

He slid his fingers into the soft fold between her nest of curls. Her hand moved up and down and he matched her rhythm with his own fingers.

“I want you, Rowan,” Selina gasped out, “Please.”

“How can I refuse when you’re being such a good girl?” he smirked, his thumb brushing against her tight bud, and she spread her thighs to permit him entry.

His cock rubbed against her entrance before he gently pushed into her. Her hips pushed against him, urging him deeper. He slid deeper, his movement slow.

“Selina,” he groaned.

She nipped his shoulder and grasped his buttocks, pushing him faster and deeper into her. His thrusts increased and Selina’s head dropped back and a pink flush spread across her chest. Her legs quivered and her orgasm ripped through her, bucking wildly against him.

Rowan gave one last thrust and released into her with a loud groan before collapsing next to her, completely spent.

Rowan woke to sensations he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Warmth against his side. The faint scent of lavender clinging to the pillow.

A deep, uninterrupted rest that had finally allowed him to breathe.

Sunlight filtered through a gap in the curtains, catching the gold in Selina’s hair where it lay across his chest. She was curled beside him, one arm draped over his waist, her breathing slow and even.

He had slept through the night. No nightmares. No flashes of cannon fire or the cold grip of the sea pulling him under. Just sleep, steady and quiet. The kind he hadn’t known since the abduction.

Selina shifted in her sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out.

He tightened his arm around her without thinking, drawn to the feel of her close, the sense of rightness in it.

Whatever had passed between them last night had broken through something in him.

Something he had tried very hard to keep intact.

Felix’s words surfaced in his mind, annoyingly accurate.

He was starting to care for his wife. More than he had planned. More than he was prepared for.

And that made everything harder. Especially with Edward Bentern still out there and the mystery of who had orchestrated his disappearance unresolved.

Selina’s eyes fluttered open, confusion crossing her features before recognition dawned.

“Good morning,” she whispered, a becoming blush coloring her cheeks.

“Good morning.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face, allowing himself this moment of tenderness. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very well.” Her smile held a hint of shyness. “And you?”

“Better than I have in a year.”

And then, guilt sliced right through him.

She deserved to know the truth. God, he loathed keeping it from her.

Not yet .

Not with Veer’s confession still echoing in his mind, not with that receipt bearing Edward Bentern’s signature locked in his drawer, and not with threats still lurking where he couldn’t see them.

“I know you want to know where I’ve been in the past year,” he said quietly. His thumb brushed her lower lip, a deliberate distraction. “I promise I’ll tell you. But right now, I’d rather focus on the present.”

“I didn’t?—”

“I know. Still. I want you to know that… I wish to tell you. And I will, soon enough.”

She hesitated. He saw the flicker of disappointment in her eyes, but it passed when he kissed her. When they drew apart, she looked up at him, thoughtful.

“I thought you had business in Plymouth. Felix mentioned it at the ball.”

Rowan made a mental note to strangle his friend. “It can wait.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You’ve never put off business before.”

“I have a good reason to now,” he said, his hand sliding slowly along her waist, savoring the warmth of her skin.

Her breath caught. “Rowan?—”

“Plymouth will still be there next week,” he said, deciding as the words left his mouth. “Right now, I’m more interested in getting to know my wife.”

Her smile was soft and a little uncertain, but real. “I’d like that very much.”

Something in him let go at her response. The investigation could wait. For now, he wanted to stay here in this quiet moment, to understand whatever was growing between them. Her presence calmed him in a way he hadn’t expected, something steady beneath all the turmoil.

It wasn’t love. Not yet. Not with the walls he’d put up after the Intrepid. But it was something strong. Something worth holding on to before the world demanded more from him.

“Then let’s call this a delayed honeymoon,” he said as he pulled her close. “And let it begin now.”

She laughed, and the sound was light and bright and so full of life that it struck something deep inside him. For the first time since his return, Rowan felt a shift he hadn’t thought possible.

Hope.