Epilogue
Two months later
Olivia
Two months had passed since the night Victor had rescued her from Reynolds’ clutches, their relationship transformed by the revelation of love they had both allowed themselves to admit.
Olivia stood by the window of their chamber, watching as the gardeners gathered the fallen leaves from the south lawn in preparation for the harvest festival Victor had suggested they host upon their arrival to their country home.
It would be a huge success if their dinner party had been any indication.
The dinner party had been everything Victor had promised it would be—a strategic masterpiece that had firmly established her place in society.
Even Caroline Atherton had been civil, though Olivia suspected that had more to do with the steel in Victor’s gaze whenever the woman approached his wife than any genuine change of heart.
By the evening’s end, invitations had begun flowing to other social events, and the transformation from scandalous duchess to respected hostess was complete.
“Your father’s letter arrived,” Victor said, entering the room with the day’s correspondence in hand. “He accepted our invitation to visit next month.”
Olivia turned from the window, almost swooning at the sight of her gorgeous husband. “I’m glad. It’s time we put the past behind us.”
“You’ve forgiven him, then?” Victor asked, setting the letters on his desk and approaching her with deliberate steps.
“I have,” she confirmed. “His methods were severe, but without them, I would never have found my way to you.”
Victor’s lips curved in that rare smile that would never cease to make her heart flutter. “A fortunate outcome from unfortunate circumstances.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “And how are you feeling today?”
Olivia hesitated, then placed her hand over his. “I was sick again this morning. For the third time this week.” She met his gaze steadily. “I think it’s time we summon the doctor.”
Something flickered in Victor’s eyes, a mixture of excitement and protectiveness. His hand moved to rest lightly at her waist, the touch both possessive and reverent.
“Are you suggesting what I think you are, Duchess?” His voice dropped to that velvet command that never failed to send heat between her thighs.
“Perhaps,” Olivia replied, seeing the hope he tried to contain behind his usual mask of control. “Though I suppose confirmation will have to wait for the doctor’s visit.”
Victor’s eyes darkened with raw, animalistic hunger. “Indeed.” With swift movements, he crossed to the door, locking it with a click before returning to stand before her. “Come here, little one.”
The familiar hunger in his voice sent a shiver of anticipation through her. Olivia’s gaze never left his as she approached.
He spun her around and began to remove her dress. “Daddy is going to take special care of his good girl.”
The gown slipped from her shoulders and fell to the ground. Victor circled her slowly, his gaze cataloging every detail of her body before he removed her chemise, leaving her naked before him.
“Turn around, little one,” he commanded softly. “Hands on the bedpost, feet apart.”
Olivia complied, assuming the position that had become familiar in their months together. She heard the rustle of fabric as Victor removed his coat and waistcoat, the soft sound of his cuffs being unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up in preparation.
His hands, when they touched her, were warm and certain, skimming down her back to cup her hips with possessive pressure.
“The thought that you might be carrying Daddy’s babe,” he murmured, one hand sliding around to rest on her abdomen, “makes me want to claim you in every way possible.”
“Then claim me, Daddy,” Olivia whispered, her voice catching as his other hand delivered a firm stroke to her backside.
“Oh, I intend to,” Victor replied, his voice dark with promise. He continued his exploration, alternating gentle caresses with more demanding touches that quickly brought heat to her skin and moisture between her thighs.
His hand stilled, spreading warmth across her flesh. “Tell Daddy about this morning,” he instructed. “How did my little one feel?”
She turned her head to meet his gaze over her shoulder. “Queasy the moment I woke. Martha brought me tea and toast, but I couldn’t keep it down.”
Something primal and possessive flashed in his eyes, followed quickly by a tenderness that still surprised her after all these months. He moved closer, his chest pressing against her back as his arms encircled her protectively.
“And how long has this been happening?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear.
“Nearly a week now,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was more certain.”
Victor’s hands splayed across her abdomen, his touch reverent. “You should have told me immediately,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “If you’re carrying my child, I need to know. I need to protect you both.”
Olivia leaned back against him. “I told you as soon as I thought it was true, Daddy.”
She felt the warmth of his body leave hers, and then felt the fiery sting of his hand smacking the cheek of her arise. The action made her pearl throb and she released a loud moan when his hand came down again.
“You tell me things immediately, do you understand?”
His hand smacked her cunt the next time and she already wished he would repeat the action. “Yes, Daddy.”
From a drawer in his bedside table, he withdrew several lengths of burgundy silk ribbon.
“Hands, little one,” he instructed gently.
Olivia extended her wrists, watching as he bound them together, the silk firm but not too tight against her skin. When he was satisfied with his work, Victor had her lie down on the bed and secured the ribbon to a notch in their headboard, positioning her arms above her head, unable to move.
“Comfortable?” he inquired, checking that the restraint allowed proper circulation.
“Yes, Daddy,” she confirmed, testing the bonds with a gentle tug.
“Spread your legs.”
She did as her husband commanded and he bound each ankle to a bedpost so she couldn’t move from the position.
Victor nodded, satisfaction evident in his expression as he moved to the cabinet where he kept various oils used for pleasure. He returned with a small vial, settling beside her on the bed.
“I’ve been hoping for this,” Victor said, spreading some of the oil on his fingers before massaging her shoulders with firm touches. “From the moment I first made you mine, little one.”
Olivia relaxed under his ministrations, her bound position preventing her from doing anything but surrendering completely to his care. Victor worked methodically, his strong hands moving from her shoulders to her breasts, which had grown more sensitive than usual.
“Tell Daddy how that feels,” he commanded as he cupped their weight, thumbs circling her nipples until they peaked beneath his touch.
“So good, Daddy,” she gasped, arching into his touch. “Please don’t stop.”
“Such a good girl, asking so nicely,” he praised, his mouth replacing his hands. His tongue lathed her sensitive buds while his fingers continued their journey downward, tracing her abdomen with reverent touches.
When his hand finally reached the apex of her thighs, Olivia knew she was already slick with desire, her hips lifting instinctively as much as they could to seek more direct contact. Victor made a sound of approval, his fingers parting her folds.
“Already so wet for Daddy,” he observed with satisfaction. “My little one’s body knows who she belongs to.”
“Please, Daddy,” she whispered, straining against her bindings as need built rapidly under his touch.
“Patience, little one,” Victor admonished gently, his fingers circling her most sensitive spot with deliberate pressure. “Daddy wants to take his time with you.”
He established a rhythm that had her gasping and straining against her bonds, watching her face intently as he gauged her reactions.
With his free hand, he continued to caress her breasts, alternating between gentle squeezes and more demanding pinches that sent jolts of pleasure through her increasingly sensitive body.
“Ask Daddy for permission,” he instructed as he felt her begin to tighten around his fingers.
“May I come, Daddy?” Olivia pleaded, her body trembling on the edge of release.
“Yes, little one,” he granted, increasing his ministrations. “Come for Daddy. Show me how good I make you feel.”
With permission granted, she surrendered to the sensations, her body arching as much as her bonds allowed while waves of pleasure crashed through her. Victor maintained his touch throughout her release, drawing out her climax until she collapsed back against the pillows, gasping for breath.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured, stroking her flushed skin. “But Daddy is far from finished with you.”
Victor spent the next hour exploring her body with intentional thoroughness, bringing her to the edge repeatedly and making her ask for permission each time. He finally removed all of his clothing while she laid bound trying to catch her breath.
“Now,” he said, positioning himself so a knee was on either side of her head. He braced himself with the headboard, the head of his shaft almost touching her lips, “Lick Daddy’s cock.”
Olivia didn’t need to be told twice. She stuck her tongue out and brushed it along the tip, looking up to meet his hooded gaze. His dark features and slight silvering of hair at his temples made her nothing but wanton for him.
“More, my sweet little one.”
She opened her mouth wide and raised her head so she could close her lips around her husband, using her tongue along the underside as he’d taught her to do.
The action earned her a series of low growls from Victor before he began to move his hips, pushing himself deeper into the back of her throat.
“That’s it. Get Daddy good and ready to fuck his little one.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she fought the urge to gag, wanting to please her husband.
He wiped them away from her left eye with his thumb. “Beautiful.”
Victor thrust into her mouth a few more times before he withdrew and shifted himself so that he was positioned between her bound legs.
She felt a rush of relief as the tension eased when he released each of her ankles. Then he brought her two ankles together and bound them with a piece of the rope. Positioning her tied feet over one shoulder and lifting her bottom off the bed he pressed the head of his cock at her opening.
“I need to be inside you.”
“Please, Daddy,” Olivia breathed, looking up at him with adoring eyes. “I need you too.”
Victor pushed himself all the way inside of her core. “Tell Daddy how it feels to have me inside you,” he commanded softly, holding her legs against his chest as he thrust into her more roughly that time.
“So perfect,” she moaned. “Please don’t stop.”
He established a rhythm that bordered on unhinged. Olivia moaned and tested the integrity of the restraints around her wrists as her orgasm came close again.
“May I come, Daddy?” she ground out, fighting the urge to release without permission.
“Yes, little one. Come now.”
Olivia screamed as her climax overtook her, each of his thrusts pushing her across another wave of pleasure that was more intense than the last. He groaned as his breathing and movements became erratic.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he growled.
As soon as she stilled, he withdrew and released her ankles, positioning her legs so they tightened around his hips. Then he reached up to release her wrists, and her arms immediately wrapped around his neck, clinging to him.
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered against his ear.
“And I love you, little one,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “More than I ever thought possible.”
He collapsed beside her and gathered her close against his chest, his hand returning to rest protectively over her abdomen. They lay in contented silence for several minutes, their breathing gradually slowing to normal.
“We’ll send for the doctor tomorrow,” Victor said finally, his practical nature reasserting itself. “And begin making preparations.”
Olivia smiled against his chest. “I have no doubt that you are going to take care of everything. Of both of us.”
The End