Page 37 of The Good Duke (The Licentious Lords #1)

“…The day had been both a whirlwind and a triumph…”

Such was the flattering and lavish praise Lady Jersey heaped upon the exclusive wedding of Simon Broadbent, the Duke of Greystoke, to Miss Persephone Forsyth.

Of course, bride and bridegroom, Persephone and Simon, now the Duchess and Duke of Greystoke, had reached that conclusion far before Lady Jersey, the premier guest—and for that matter, the only member of the peerage aside from Lord P, to attend the whirlwind ceremony—decreed the affair a grand triumph.

From where Simon lay, with one leg hanging over the arm of the white silk camelback sofa, he could have called it the greatest even before the actual wedding between him and Seph commenced.

For it’d been their love which was ultimately the greatest triumph. Against time and all odds and obstacles, they found their way back to each other.

While his goddess of a wife, of just three hours, stroked her long fingers through Simon’s hair, a lazy smile formed on his lips.

“Duchess,” a droll voice intoned from the Provencal settee opposite Simon and Persephone. “If you’d be so gracious as to point out to your very rude husband that I’m hardly reading something to merit his amusement.”

Lord Kit brandished a copy of The Times special edition that’d just circulated throughout London and only just arrived. “In fact, by my estimation, it is a most momentous moment I’m speaking about.”

“Reading,” Simon said dryly. “Right now, you’re just reciting some gossip’s words.”

Ignoring Simon, Lord Kit skimmed the page. “Where was I?”

“Leav—”

Persephone gave Simon a hard pinch.

“ Ouch. ” Frowning, he glanced up at his beautiful bride. “What was that for?”

“Do not be rude, my love,” she whispered. All the while, Simon’s best friend continued speaking inaudibly to himself.

Simon grabbed Persephone’s hand and drew her knuckles to his mouth. “Only because you ask it, my heart.” He flicked his tongue over that flesh.

Persephone’s eyes slipped shut.

Lord Kit waved his paper about noisily. “ Ah , here we are! I’ve got it.”

“With your lengthy and impressive career in the Home Office,” Simon rejoined, keeping his features deadpan, “I never doubted you for one s— Ouch. ” He scowled up as Persephone delivered yet another pinch.

Leaning down, Persephone whispered against his mouth. “Behave.”

“You hate it when I behave,” he mouthed. “In fact, for every pinch and reprimand you give me, my bride, I will repay you threefold.”

By the audible uptick in her breathing and the desire that glittered in her expressive eyes, she was as aroused by the prospect as Simon .

He again raised her hand to his lips and ever so discreetly nipped her flesh. “We’re both naughty souls, aren’t we, sweet Persephone?”

She bit her lower lip. “The naughties—”

From where he sat, Lord Kit made a bother of himself yet again. “Do tell me if you’d rather I not continu—”

Simon cut him off. “We’d rather you not— Ouch. ”

“Woh, now, good fellow.” Pruitt slapped a palm against his chest. “I’m wounded, positively wounded .”

This time, when Simon turned his gaze up to Persephone’s, hers reflected not only a like lust, but a glimmer of what her latest pinch promised—and also what she looked forward to.

Tamping down a groan of lust, Simon rolled onto his side and discreetly hid his cockstand.

“Please ignore my husband,” Persephone imbued. “I am not sure what you said to Lady Jersey after the dinner party, but you somehow managed to ensure both me and Lady Isabelle were not only spared from scandal but elevated in the eyes of society. For that, you have my and His Grace’s eternal gratitude.”

Lord Kit made a flourishing gesture with his hands. “ No gratitude necessary, Your Grace. It was an honor and privilege.”

“Just as it’s been an honor to have you remain with the duchess and I long after our wedding ceremony, Pruitt.” Simon paused. “ Long after. Say, some three hours and thirty-six minutes past when the last guest departed.”

In more patently false hurt, Society’s notorious charmer slammed a palm against his chest. “Never say you’re annoyed by my presence, Greystoke?”

“I am annoyed by your presence,” Simon said bluntly, not bothering with politeness.

“Simon!” Persephone’s gasp was drowned out by Pruitt’s loud bellowing laugh.

Simon would be forever indebted to Lord Kit for all he’d done. He’d be even more grateful, however, if Pruitt took his leave so Simon could get to the delicious business of making love to his new duchess.

Giving Simon a look he knew had sent fear into the hearts of her most recalcitrant students and charges, Persephone shoved Simon’s head from her lap and moved out from under him. “My husband is merely jesting, Lord Kit.”

Lord Kit and Simon spoke at the same time.

“No, he’s not, Your Grace.”

“No, I’m not.” Simon spoke so bluntly Lord Kit’s amusement redoubled. “Love, loyal friend or not, I assure you, he is the last person I wish to spend the rest of my wedding day with.”

Simon dismissed his friend outright and turned a hot look, one he filled with a promise of the wicked things to come, on his spirited bride. “There is no one I want to spend the rest of the day with than you, my love,” he purred.

Persephone’s lips parted ever so slightly, and a breathless little sigh slipped out, and Simon knew the precise moment she’d forgotten Pruitt’s presence and saw only Simon and the unspoken vision of what he’d do to her. With her.

Lord Kit called out and shattered the moment. “It could be worse, old chap. I could remain and keep you from your wedding nigh—”

“That’d mark the end of our friendship as I’d have to see my servants toss you out on your arse,” Simon drawled.

At his side, Persephone smothered a laugh.

Simon claimed her fingertips and bestowed a kiss upon the tips of those ink-stained digits. “At least one of us can find amusement in all this, dear heart.”

“Continuing on…” Pruitt snapped the newspaper back into place and resumed reading.

“ The day had been both a whirlwind and success… ”

“ …all Polite Society would have wished to bear witness to, but which was made all the more special by their absence and the addition of only the most intimate friends of the bride and bridegroom. ”

Simon snorted. “Most intimate friends indeed,” he drawled.

Persephone swatted his arm.

Simon bristled. “What? Clearly , I wasn’t speaking about Lord Kit .”

The gentleman in question inclined his head. “Thank you for that assurance, old chap. I do , however, see the duchess’s point,” Lord Kit said, the damned diplomat he’d been and always would be. “You did sound a trifle rude.”

“Forgive my husband, Lord Kit.” Persephone favored the consummate rogue with one of her smiles that made Simon grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

“Now, Lord Kit,” she encouraged. “If you would please—”

“ Go. ”

“Carry on,” Persephone spoke loudly over Simon’s grousing.

“Nothing would make me happier, Your Grace,” Pruitt murmured.

Simon’s friend lifted the newspaper, concealing his face once more, but not before Simon detected another one of Pruitt’s waggish grins.

Simon growled. “Only, you , Pruitt would flirt with another man’s bride on his wedding day.”

“I cannot help I’m naturally charming, old chum,” he said before settling back into his reading.

Simon leveled a scowl on him. When Pruitt ceased his blithe existence and settled down, Simon would double—nay, triple —the hard time he gave him. That was if there existed a lady on God’s green earth who could bring the fellow to the altar.

“ Among the esteemed guests included in the Duke and Duchess of G’s enchanting ceremony ,” Pruitt droned on.

Persephone slipped her fingers into Simon’s. “Surely you know, dear husband,” she murmured softly. “I cannot be charmed or enticed. You’ve absolutely ruined me for all other men.”

Sitting upright, Simon inched closer to his goddess of a wife and touched his brow to hers. “I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, Your Grace.”

Persephone lifted her lips to meet his just as Simon lowered his to take her mouth.

“ Ahem. ”

Fuck.

Simon and Persephone jumped apart.

“ As I was saying, the distinguished few included: this Season’s sparkling Diamond, Lady I. Lady I, who unbeknownst to all, was a former charge of the estimable Miss F, now Duchess of G’s ever-charming. Given her sly matchmaking between the duke and duchess, dare I say I spy the next great hostess amongst the ton? Between the lady’s cleverness, beauty, and pure heart, it is a certainty she won’t be on the Marriage Mart much longer. ”

Pruitt stopped.

He’d finally reached the end of that blasted article. “ At last. ”

Instead of lowering the paper, however, Pruitt licked an index finger and flicked the page.

With Simon and Persephone’s attention back on him, Lord Kit continued.

Their unflagging narrator sat up even straighter. “ Also included amongst the distinguished few to attend was none other than… ” The bachelor paused—clearly for emphasis. “ The dashing, the charming, wittiest, and most clever rogue , Lord K. He stood beside the Duke of G during the ceremony. Dare this author play matchmaker of her own and put forth an idea of a most perfect union between— ”

Lord Kit dissolved into a paroxysm of choking. Bright red splotches formed on the gentleman’s cheeks as he struggled to get his breathing to rights.

For the first time since Pruitt settled himself in to join Simon and Persephone, Simon’s ears pricked up with genuine interest and he sat up in his seat.

“What was that, Pruitt?” he ribbed. “I’m afraid we did not catch all of that. The most perfect union between—”

Lord Kit snapped the newspaper closed. “Nothing of any real interest beyond everything I’ve already read.”

“ Oh ,” Simon stretched that lone syllable into four. “I’m not sure if I believe—”

“Do not encourage him, love,” Persephone whispered into his ear.

She needn’t have worried. Nothing would send Pruitt bolting faster than the thought, talk, or fear of him tied to a respectable miss.

Pruitt jumped up. “My goodness, is it truly…?” He fumbled about for his watch fob and consulted the gold, engraved timepiece. “Twenty-six minutes past two? Where has the time gone?”

Simon and Persephone joined him in standing.

Banishing all his earlier levity, Simon crossed over to Pruitt and stretched a palm out. “I truly am grateful,” he said quietly for his friend’s benefit.

Clasping Simon’s hand, Pruitt gave it a firm shake. “That I’m leaving, no doubt.”

“Yes. There is some of that.”

Both men shared a smile.

“I am indebted to you, Pruitt,” Simon said solemnly. “Not only for ensuring Persephone did not suffer a scandal, but for having urged me to hire her when I would have sent her away.”

Pruitt stared at him for a long moment.

Simon stilled—and then it hit him. “You knew all along…? How…?”

“I knew you were enamored of the lady and that she was, of course, your future duchess?” Pruitt supplied. “Only from the moment you came marching into the club like the world had been flipped upside down.” He thumped Simon between his shoulder blades. “Now, go. I’ve had quite enough fun at your expense.”

Not allowing Simon to offer any further thanks, Lord Kit turned to Persephone, who’d remained quiet throughout their exchange.

He sketched a deep bow. “Your Grace, as much as it pains me to leave your enchanting company, I do believe it will cost me Greystoke’s friendship if I remain a minute longer.”

“Lord Kit,” she said, her voice husky. “Thank you.” Her chocolate brown irises glittered with tears. “For everything.”

Pruitt winked, and then unlike the infernal length of time he’d made a bother of himself, he took himself off quick.

After he’d shut the door behind him, a blessed quiet enveloped the room—and Simon and Persephone at last found themselves alone for the first time on their wedding day.

With a heated gaze, Simon, on sleek, panther-like steps, rejoined Persephone. “Well, my duchess,” Simon murmured when he reached her side. “We find ourselves—”

Persephone took Simon by his lapels, climbed up onto her tiptoes, and kissed him long and deep on the mouth.

“Alone,” he breathed.

She parted her lips, and he all too happily accepted that invitation to sweep inside and taste her, lick her.

Sinking his fingers into Persephone’s saucily curved arse, he dragged her between his legs and pressed his hard cock against the flat of her belly.

All the while they mated with their mouths like the savage animals they were together, Simon kneaded her lush buttocks—filling his palms with that sensuous flesh.

“How bad of me to neglect your beautiful breasts, my love.” Simon’s ragged breaths ruined his attempt at blitheness.

His fingers shook with the need to have those mounds in his hands. At last, the abundant, cream-white flesh spilled into his palms. He weighed her glorious orbs, bringing them together, and tweaking her enormous nipples until tears spilled down her cheeks.

Hungry little moans spilled from Persephone’s mouth, and Simon swallowed each delicious, incoherent utterance.

“Simon,” she keened like a wounded animal.

The evidence of her desire for him sent his lust spiraling to fever lengths.

“I know what you want, love,” he said harshly. “I know how you like it.” Just as he knew how she liked to be spoken to when fucking. “I’m going to eat your quim, my queen.”

With a hungry whimper, she rolled her hips in increasingly frantic undulations.

Simon didn’t relent. “I’m going to have you on your knees and my cock in your mouth,” he promised silkily.

He bit her neck hard.

Tossing her head back, Persephone cried out.

“And you’ll love it so much, won’t you?” he rasped. At the image he painted, sweat beaded at his brow. “You’ll love having me fuck your beautiful mouth.”

“Yes, Simon.” She gyrated, twisting and squirming and moving against him in a desperate bid for relief.

“I’m going to make love to you, Seph.” His vow emerged gravelly. “And when I’m done, I’m going to take you again and again. We’ll take our time, but, first, we both know we need this right now.”

Crying, Persephone nodded frantically. “Yes, please ,” she again implored him.

“Begging me like the good girl you are,” he gutturalized.

Then, in one quick movement, Simon had Persephone’s skirts up about her trim waist.

Spinning her so she was positioned face-first at the back of the nearest sofa, Simon freed his aching cock from the confines of his trousers.

“Yes!” she hissed, canting her sweet arse.

Taking his length in hand, he guided himself to the entrance of her sodden channel.

She shoved her hips back to try and take what she so clearly needed.

Then, to tempt her and tease her, Simon slowed. He nudged the tip of his shaft against Persephone’s opening.

“Please, Simon,” she wept. “ Please. ”

Simon bit the back of her nape. “Only because you beg so prettily,” he said harshly.

In one quick movement, he thrust home to the only place he wished to be.

Crying out, Persephone’s body buckled, and she collapsed against the sofa.

Gritting his teeth, Simon plowed into her again and again, harder and harder until Persephone’s wails pealed around the room, filled his head, and mingled with his own grunts.

All the while he drove deep inside her, Persephone arched back, taking all of him deep inside.

Suddenly, he felt her inner muscles clench and squeeze.

“S-Simon,” she moaned.

“You’re close, love,” he purred. Taking her earlobe between his lips, Simon sucked. “Come for me.”

And it was as though, in granting her permission, Persephone allowed herself to tumble over that edge of her desire.

She came loudly, wildly, screaming his name. Crying and thrashing and cursing.

Still, Simon didn’t relent.

He kept her pinned to the pretty sofa, tightened his grip upon her hips, and continued pounding into her.

Sweat slipped down his cheeks.

He wanted this to go on and on forever. And at the same time, if he didn’t fill her with his seed, and soon, he’d die.

Then his friend, his lover, and now his wife angled Simon a look, displaying flushed, tear-stained cheeks.

“Come with me, Simon,” Persephone begged, still riding the waves of her pleasure.

Come with me.

It was what he’d wanted. To be with her and only her. To travel the world with Persephone beside him.

And now, at long last, she was his, and the glorious realization sent Simon over the edge.

“Persephone,” he cried her name as an invocation, a consecration of his and her love and their future together.

The End