Chapter 33 #2
Theodore stood, drawing her up with him, his hands framing her face with a tenderness that made her ache.
“I love you. I’ve loved you for weeks now, maybe longer, but I was too much of a fool to admit it even to myself.
I convinced myself that what I felt was simply desire, or duty, or some manageable emotion that wouldn’t cost me everything.
But these past few days have taught me the truth: loving you isn’t what will destroy me. Losing you is.”
“I pushed too hard,” she said through her tears, needing him to understand. “I should have given you more time, been more patient.”
“No.” His thumbs brushed away her tears with infinite care.
“You were right to push. I needed someone who wouldn’t accept my walls as permanent, who would demand better from me than the bare minimum of civility.
You’ve made me want to be more than the cold, bitter man I’d resigned myself to becoming.
You’ve made me want to live instead of simply existing. ”
Cressida’s hands came up to cover his, holding them against her face as though she could anchor herself in this moment. “I love you too. I’ve been falling in love with you since the night you found me in your study, though I was too afraid to admit it.”
The smile that transformed his face was worth every moment of hurt, every tear shed over the past few days.
He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath warm against her lips.
“Come home with me,” he murmured. “Let me spend the rest of my life proving that your trust wasn’t misplaced. Let me show you every day that I’m capable of being the husband you deserve.”
“Yes.” The word came without hesitation, without doubt. Because despite everything—the hurt, the misunderstandings, the walls they’d both erected—she knew with absolute certainty that this was right. That he was worth fighting for. That they were worth fighting for.
Theodore kissed her then, and it was nothing like the desperate passion of their earlier encounters. This kiss was tender, reverent, a promise made and received in the press of lips and the gentle brush of tongues.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes shone with an emotion so powerful it stole her breath.
“I love you,” he said again, as though the words had been locked inside him for so long that now released, they demanded repetition. “God help me, Cressida, I love you more than I thought it possible to love someone.”
“Then take me home.” She smiled through her tears, reaching up to brush the disheveled hair from his forehead. “And never let me leave again.”
The journey back to Ashmere passed in a blur of stolen kisses and whispered confessions.
They shared Theodore’s horse, Cressida seated sidesaddle before him with his arms bracketing her body, holding her secure against his chest. Each time they stopped to rest the animal, he would help her down and then immediately pull her back into his arms, as though he couldn’t bear even brief separation.
“We’re being terribly improper,” she observed during one such stop, laughing as he kissed a path down her throat.
“We’re married.” His teeth grazed her pulse point, making her gasp. “I’m allowed to be improper with my own wife.”
Heat flooded through her at the rough promise in his voice. “Theodore—”
“Soon.” He pulled back, though his eyes darkened with barely restrained desire. “But first, I need to get you home. Our home.”
When they finally arrived at Ashmere, twilight had begun its slow descent, painting the castle in shades of amber and pink. Cressida felt her throat tighten at the sight of it—this place that had started as a prison and become something else entirely. Something like belonging.
Theodore dismounted first, then reached up to lift her down. But instead of setting her on her feet, he cradled her against his chest, carrying her toward the entrance as the staff emerged to greet them.
Mrs. Agnes stood at the front, her expression radiating barely concealed delight.
“Your Graces.” Her smile suggested she knew far more than she should about the state of their marriage. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Agnes.” Theodore’s arms tightened around Cressida. “Please have a bath drawn in the Duchess’s chambers. And we’re not to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” If the housekeeper found anything unusual about the Duke carrying his wife inside while issuing orders for an undisturbed evening, she gave no sign of it. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
Theodore carried Cressida up the main staircase, past the portraits of disapproving ancestors, and down the familiar corridor to her chambers. He shouldered through the door without bothering to set her down, kicking it shut behind them with decisive finality.
Only then did he lower her to her feet, his hands immediately finding the fastenings of her traveling dress.
“Bath first,” she protested weakly, even as his mouth found the sensitive spot beneath her ear that made thought difficult.
“Bath later.” His fingers worked the buttons with practiced efficiency. “Right now, I need to make up for seventeen years of denying myself what I wanted. What I needed.”
Cressida shuddered at the sheer passion in his voice as her dress pooled at her feet, followed quickly by her petticoats and stays.
Theodore’s coat and waistcoat joined the growing pile, his cravat abandoned somewhere near the door, his shirt pulled over his head and tossed aside with gratifying urgency.
When they finally stood bare before each other, Theodore paused, his gaze traveling the length of her body with such reverent hunger that she felt heat bloom across her skin.
“You’re so beautiful, it hurts to look at you,” he said roughly, his hands spanning her waist. “And you’re mine. My wife. My Duchess. Mine.”
“Yours,” she agreed, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. “Just as you’re mine.”
He lifted her then, carrying her to the bed and laying her down with a care that belied the urgency vibrating through his frame. He covered her body with his own, skin to skin, heat to heat, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth. “Whatever happens, whatever challenges we face, I love you.”
Theodore’s response was a kiss that demolished any remaining distance between them.
His hands mapped her body with possessive hunger, relearning curves he’d memorized weeks ago but approaching now with the certainty of a man who knew she wouldn’t disappear come morning.
Who knew she was his, not because of contracts or duty, but because they’d chosen each other despite every obstacle.
When he finally settled between her thighs, his length notched against her entrance, he paused. “Tell me again.”
“I love you.” She wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him closer. “I love you, Theodore.”
He entered her with one smooth thrust, and she gasped.
There was no uncertainty here. This was the joining of two people who’d finally stopped running from what they felt, who’d chosen vulnerability over safety and found something worth the risk.
Theodore moved with deliberate slowness, his eyes locked onto hers, his breathing ragged.
“I could do this for the rest of my life,” he said, his voice wrecked. “Wake up beside you, touch you like this, know that you’re mine and I’m yours and nothing else matters.”
“Yes.” She arched beneath him, seeking more contact, more friction, more of everything. “Yes, Theodore. Please—”
His control fractured at her plea, his thrusts quickening.
Cressida matched his rhythm, her hands gripping his shoulders as pleasure built with each stroke.
She could feel it coiling tighter, that same devastating sensation he’d introduced her to weeks ago, but somehow more intense now, all-consuming because of the emotion threaded through it.
“Look at me,” Theodore commanded roughly when her eyes threatened to close. “I want to see you, want to watch you come apart knowing you’re mine.”
The combination of his words and the angle of his next thrust sent her over the edge.
Cressida cried out, her body clenching around him as release crashed through her in waves that seemed to have no end. Through it all, he watched her with such fierce possessiveness that she felt claimed all over again.
His own release followed moments later, his thrusts becoming erratic before he buried himself deep inside her with a groan that sounded like her name.
She felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside her, felt the tension drain from his body as he collapsed against her, his weight a welcome pressure.
For a long moment, they simply breathed together, their bodies still joined, their hearts racing in sync. Then Theodore rolled onto his side, drawing her with him so she lay sprawled across his chest, one leg hooked over his hip to keep him inside her.
“Don’t want to let you go yet,” he murmured into her hair, his hands stroking her back with languid contentment. “Not sure I ever want to let you go again.”
Cressida smiled against his chest, exhaustion and satisfaction making her pleasantly heavy. “Then don’t. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
She lifted her head to meet his eyes, seeing vulnerability there that he no longer tried to hide. “I promise. Whatever happens, wherever life takes us, I’m yours. Completely.”
Theodore’s smile was the most genuine she’d ever seen it—unguarded, joyful, the smile of a man who’d finally stopped running from happiness and decided to embrace it instead.
“Then we’re going to have an extraordinary life together,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You and me. No more walls, no more secrets. Just this.”
“Just this,” she agreed, settling back against his chest as her eyes fluttered shut. “It’s more than enough.”