Epilogue
Sybil placed a kiss on her sleeping husband’s cheek.
With a faint hint of morning sun streaming through the cracks in the heavy curtains, the light illuminated his unfairly handsome face.
Her kiss didn’t move him from slumber, however.
He remained still on his back, eyes closed, one arm snaked around her waist, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths.
She jostled his arm lightly. “Everett.”
Still, he slept on.
“Everett,” she tried again.
But he was in a deep sleep.
It wasn’t the moment she had envisioned when she had decided to tell him that he was going to be a father. But last night, he had distracted her by carrying her across the room, burying his face between her thighs, and using his tongue until she had quite forgotten anything and everything else.
Including her own name for a few wild, blissful moments.
She tried one last time, shoving gently at his shoulder, but he refused to wake.
There was one way she knew that roused him from slumber every time.
Feeling wicked, she kissed her way down his chest. Slowly, lingering, enjoying the ripple of his muscle as he came awake, the swift intake of his breath when he realized where she was headed.
By the time she reached his cock, it was rigid and thick, standing at the ready, a bead of liquid seeping from the tip. She lapped it up with her tongue, gratified by his groan and the flex of his hips.
“Sybil, what are you doing?” he rasped, his voice husky with sleep.
“Good morning, Riverdale.” She gripped the base of his cock and gave him a saucy look. “What do you think I’m doing?”
And then she took his cock into her mouth.
“Bloody hell,” he bit out, his hand going to her hair, sifting it through his fingers as she sucked on his thick length.
He tasted musky, like herself and him blended together with a hint of salt.
And she wanted more. Sybil set about making him lose control, using every skill she had learned, all the ways to bring him to his knees.
She licked from base to tip, swirling her tongue over the ruddy head, and then she took him as far as she could.
To the back of her throat, just as she knew he liked.
“Sybil,” he groaned.
It wasn’t protest, this she knew. It was pleasure.
She sucked harder, cupping the heavy fullness of his ballocks as she did so.
That was all it required to make him lose control utterly.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, hips pumping with eagerness, following her lips as she worked up and down his shaft, coating him in saliva.
He came with a thunderous cry, hot spurts of his seed jetting into her mouth. With a low sound of approval, she swallowed it down, releasing him slowly, tenderly, before dragging herself back up to the headboard and collapsing at his side.
“My God, woman,” he breathed. “What a way to wake me.”
“Better than a pitcher of water to the face?” she teased.
“Much.”
She tucked herself against his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her comfortably close to his warm strength. She laid her head on his chest, pressing herself to his side.
“As soon as I catch my breath, I’ll return the favor,” Everett said, his hand coasting up and down her spine in a slow, tender motion.
“There is something I should tell you first,” she murmured, caressing his chest.
How she enjoyed this closeness they shared, still so new and so beloved. She could lie happily thus for days and never leave.
“Oh?” he asked mildly, his voice still velvety with sleep. “I do hope you’re not going to tell me you want a divorce.”
He was jesting, but Sybil didn’t particularly care to be reminded of the day she had stormed into his room at Wingfield Hall, demanding that he grant her the divorce that—as it had turned out—she hadn’t truly wanted after all.
“Never that.”
“Good.” He paused, then sifted through her hair, allowing the strands to slip slowly to her back. “What do you want to tell me, my love? It must be very important if it goes before my licking your cunny.”
“Everett,” she scolded lightly, but though she took him to task, his naughty words made her even more wanton and wet than taking him into her mouth already had.
“It is only that I know how much you like it,” he said teasingly. “You needn’t be embarrassed, darling.”
“I’m not embarrassed, you wicked man.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m not,” she insisted, even as a blush heated her cheeks.
She hoped he couldn’t see it on account of the low light. It would belie her words. And Everett adored crowing when he was right. It was most annoying.
“Then why are you hiding your face in my chest?” he asked.
She pressed a kiss there, absorbing his heat and vitality through her lips. “Because this is a serious conversation, and you keep teasing me.”
“There are other ways I could tease you,” he pointed out.
Ways she would like too much.
Ways that would inevitably lead once more to her distraction.
“I’m with child,” she blurted.
He stiffened beneath her. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m having a babe,” she repeated, lifting her head so she could look into his eyes. “We are having a babe. You’re going to be a father, Everett.”
“A father,” he said, awe entering his voice. “A babe.”
“Yes.”
He splayed a hand over her belly, which had yet to show any evidence that she was increasing. “Our babe.”
She smiled, tears of happiness pooling in her eyes and sliding down her cheeks as she covered his hand with hers. “Ours.”
“This is wonderful news.”
“Is it?”
He cupped her cheek. “Need you ask? I am overjoyed, my love.”
“As am I.” She blinked rapidly, dashing away the tears that continued to spill. “More overjoyed than I ever thought possible.”
She kissed him slowly, ardently, and then she settled her head back on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.
They were silent for a time, holding each other, thinking about the future awaiting them, both overwhelmed and happy for all that lay ahead.
The quiet remained unbroken until his deep voice rumbled beneath her ear.
“Sybil?”
She danced her fingers through a patch of his chest hair, admiring him. “Yes, darling?”
“May I lick your cunny now?”
Sybil laughed, scandalized and eager all at once. “Yes, my love. You may.”
“Thank God,” he grumbled. “I’m starving for breakfast, and all I want is you.”
Everett guided her onto her back, pulling back the bedclothes.
Sybil smiled up at him. “Then have me.”
And he did.
Thank you so very much for reading Duke with a Duchess!
I hope you enjoyed this emotional, angsty second chance romance between Everett and Sybil as much as I loved writing their HEA.
We have one more founding member of the Wicked Dukes Society to fall.
If you’re eager to find out what happens between Lady Verity and King, look for their grumpy/sunshine HEA in Duke with a Deception, and do read on for a sneak peek (unedited and subject to change).
Duke with a Deception
(Please note that this is an unedited sneak peek, subject to change.)
The Duke of Kingham delights in doing bad deeds.
Which is why no one is more surprised than King when he decides to go a very good deed in marrying his best friend’s sister.
Lady Verity Saunders suffered a traumatic blow to the head that left her with partial amnesia and the persistent delusion that King is the love of her life, her fiancé.
Never mind that her real betrothed died ten years ago and she’s been mourning him ever since. Or that King is a heartless rake who vowed he’d never wed. The jaded, grumpy former bachelor is now husband to a do-gooder lady whose disposition is brighter than summer sunshine.
But when their marriage of convenience slowly burns into an unrivaled passion, King finds himself falling for the wife he didn’t want. Until Verity’s memory returns and she’s devastated to realize she’s been living a lie.