Epilogue
They were both holding their breaths as Olive carefully placed the second golden sphaera on the velvet cushion beside its partner. The pair held the place of honor in Phineas’s study, resting in a specially built glass case he’d prepared when he’d obtained the first one.
But now they were both where they belonged.
She heard him exhale as she stepped back, and he slipped his hand into hers. “Beautiful, Mrs. Oliphant.”
“They are identical. No one can deny they belong together,” she agreed.
“Just like us.”
She tilted her head to one side, peeking up at him with a smile. “Aye, husband,” she drawled. “A pair. Just like us.”
Due to more storms, it had taken another week of excavation to find the second sphaera, despite it only being about twenty feet from the bend in the ancient river where she’d hypothesized the current had deposited it.
Neither Olive nor Phineas had minded the delays, or the time they were “stuck” indoors.
No, indeed. It just meant they’d had to get creative with their excuses to sneak away together.
But the delay did give her parents time to travel to Dumpkins, and they’d joined the house party to celebrate Olive finding love. Surrounded by her new friends and family, Olive had become Mrs. Phineas Oliphant.
And couldn’t have been happier.
The wedding night they’d spent in the little inn had been a bit anticlimactic, what with the creaking bedframe and the drafty window and the mediocre dinner. But it had been her first night spent cuddled in Phineas’s arms, and that had been worth it.
He’d promised her much better tonight.
“Would ye like a tour?”
She glanced around the study, admiring the artifacts she could see. “Of the manor, or your collection?”
“Either. Both.” He shrugged, almost apologetically.
“I had this place built a few years ago because it’s close to the clan’s castle and my father’s estate.
I suppose it’ll one day be my brother Leonidas’s estate, but I knew I’d be gone more often than not and just wanted a nice place to return to.
We dinnae have to be at Newfincy Castle to meet the rest of my family until dinner—they’re excited to meet ye—which means we have a bit of time. ”
“And you thought I, as a new wife and mistress of this charming manor house, might like to poke around a bit? Get the lay of the land, so to speak?” she asked mischievously, using the hold on his hand to tug him toward the settee, wondering if she was sashaying her hips quite as well as Tiffany had showed her.
“Aye, the housekeeper would like to meet ye, of course, and—”
“Phineas.”
He blinked at the interruption. “Aye, lass?”
“Is that the sort of poking about you would like to be doing right now?”
Perhaps it was the use of the word “poking,” but he understood her meaning, judging by the way his expression melted into a wicked grin.
“Nay, lass,” he growled, his arms snaking around her.
She was still wearing her traveling gown, but he didn’t seem to mind. Arching her back, she made certain her breasts brushed against him, as she held his gaze.
“I am newly married, Phineas. I can be forgiven for only thinking about my husband.”
“Fair enough, love,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot below her ear. “Because I think about ye constantly. And that thing ye do with yer mouth.”
Olive bit her lower lip.
“Aye, that.”
“Do you think… That is, there is a perfectly good settee here, and I noticed you locked the door.”
His hands were already reaching for the buttons of her gown. “I keep a skeleton staff, and they ken no’ to interrupt me when I’m hard at work.”
When he flexed his hips, she knew exactly what kind of hard he meant, and her gasp turned to a moan. “And I am work?”
“Love, ye’re my favorite work. My grandest adventure.”
Phineas’s lips captured hers, hungry and passionate.
His tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her, as his fingers worked on her buttons.
She could feel the urgency in his touch, the desperation matching her own.
When he pushed the fabric off her shoulders, she shivered, not from cold, but from the intensity of his gaze on her bare skin.
He laid her back against the settee, the soft cushions supporting her as he loomed over her. His breath was ragged, his eyes dark with desire. “Ye’re so beautiful, love,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.
But Olive didn’t want slow and reverent. She wanted him, all of him, right now. Her hands reached for his shirt, tugging it up, her fingers tracing the hard planes of his stomach and chest. He groaned at her touch, his muscles flexing beneath her palms.
“Olive,” he rasped, his voice a warning and a plea all at once.
“I need you, Phineas,” she whispered, her voice breathy.
Her hands trailed down to his trousers, stroking the hard length of him through the fabric.
He was already straining against the material, a wet mark already spreading.
She fumbled with his buttons, desperate to feel his hard length against her palm.
Since the moment he’d confessed he’d spilled in his trousers during their first encounter, she’d been fascinated by the feel of that moisture against the fabric. It made her feel…powerful. Desirable.
Just as Phineas himself did.
He knelt beside her on the settee, his large frame bending over her as if she were a goddess to be worshiped.
His mouth found her breast, his lips wrapping around her nipple, sucking and teasing it into a hard peak.
His teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, and she arched off the cushions, a gasp escaping her lips.
His other hand dipped between her legs, his fingers sliding through her wet folds. She was already soaked for him, her body aching with need. When his finger circled her clitoris, she whimpered, her hips bucking against his touch.
“So wet for me,” he praised, his voice rough. His finger slid inside her, and she moaned, her inner muscles clenching around him. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her for him.
Olive’s hand found his cock, wrapping around the velvety length. He was hot and hard in her palm, the tip slick with precum. She stroked him, her thumb spreading the wetness, and he groaned against her breast.
“That’s it, love,” he murmured, his teeth scraping against her nipple. “Touch me just like that.”
His fingers curled inside her, his thumb finding her clitoris, circling it in time with her strokes on his cock. What they were doing—here, in broad daylight, in his study—made her feel so erotic and deliciously naughty. The pleasure built quickly, her body already on the brink of release.
“Phineas,” she gasped, her head falling back against the cushions. “I am close—so close.”
He lifted his head from her breast, his eyes locking onto hers. “ Come for me, Olive,” he commanded, his voice low and intense. “Let me see ye come undone.”
And she did.
With a cry, her climax crashed over her, her inner muscles pulsing around his fingers. Her hand tightened around his cock, her strokes becoming erratic as waves of pleasure washed through her.
But it wasn’t enough. Even as the last tremors of her orgasm faded, she knew she needed more. She needed him.
Phineas seemed to understand. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking her wetness off them. The sight was so erotic, so primal, that it sent a fresh wave of arousal through her.
Or perhaps that was merely because of the sight of him, stripping off his shirt and pulling down his trousers.
He shifted, moving between her thighs, his large body covering hers. She felt small and delicate beneath him, but also powerful, seductive. She wrapped her legs around his thighs, urging him closer.
His cock pressed against her entrance, and she whimpered, her hips lifting to meet him. He slid into her slowly, inch by delicious inch, his eyes locked onto hers the entire time. She could see the effort it took for him to hold back, to go slow.
“Ye feel so good, wife,” he groaned, his jaw clenched. “Perfection together.”
When he was fully seated inside her, he paused, giving her a moment to adjust to his size. But she didn’t need a moment. She needed him to move.
She rolled her hips, urging him on, and he began to thrust. Slowly at first, then building in speed and intensity.
She met each of his strokes, their bodies moving in a rhythm that was theirs alone.
The feeling of him sliding in and out of her was exquisite, the friction hitting every sensitive nerve ending, the pleasure building with each thrust.
Olive’s hands roamed over his back, her fingers digging into the muscles that flexed with each movement. She could feel the power in his body, the controlled strength as he drove into her. His skin was slick with sweat, and the scent of him—spice and adventure and Phineas—filled her senses.
Phineas’s mouth found hers again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips. The kiss was deep and hungry, a claiming that matched the intensity of their lovemaking. She nipped on his tongue, tasting him, and he groaned into her mouth.
His hips rolled, changing the angle slightly, and she gasped as the tip of his cock hit that spot deep inside her that made stars burst behind her eyes. “There,” she panted against his lips. “Right there.”
He adjusted his position, ensuring he hit that spot with each thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming, her body coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke. She could feel another climax building, the sensation even more intense than before.
Phineas’s breath was ragged, his forehead pressed against hers as he whispered praises and endearments. “So beautiful, love. My Olive. My wife.”
The words sent a thrill through her, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him on. His hips moved faster, his cock driving deeper, and she could feel the tension in his body, the coiling of his own release.
Suddenly, he shifted slightly, one hand reaching between them. His fingers found her clitoris, brushing against the sensitive bud in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation was too much, and she cried out, her body convulsing as another climax crashed over her.
“Phineas!” she screamed, beyond caring who heard her, her inner muscles clamping down around his cock, pulsing with the force of her release.
He groaned, his hips moving erratically as he chased his own climax. With a final, deep thrust, he stilled, his cock pulsing inside her as he came. He groaned deeply, and she could feel the hot rush of his seed, the sensation prolonging her own pleasure.
They clung to each other, their bodies shaking, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.
Slowly, the waves of pleasure subsided, and Olive went limp beneath him, her body sated and exhausted.
Phineas’s weight pressed her into the settee, but she welcomed it, the feeling of his body on hers comforting and intimate.
He lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, and she saw the love and tenderness in his gaze. “I love ye, Olive,” he murmured, his voice soft and rough.
I love ye. Olive ye.
She smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. “I love you, Phineas. My husband.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, then carefully withdrew from her, shifting to lie beside her on the settee and kick out of the rest of his clothing. He gathered her into his arms, her back to his front, his body curling around hers protectively.
They lay there, their breaths slowly returning to normal, their bodies cooling. Olive could feel the slow, steady beat of his heart against her back, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. The moment was perfect, the connection between them deep and profound.
“I suppose we should get dressed,” Olive murmured, her voice soft and lazy with satisfaction. “Tour the house, and all that.”
Phineas chuckled, his arms tightening around her. “Aye, love. But no’ right away.”
A moment later, he’d pulled away, startling Olive. She hummed in confusion as he set her back again and shifted—had he fallen off the settee?
“What are you doing?” she asked, even as his hands slid up her sides to cup her breasts.
Her husband’s grin was wicked. “I’m no’ done working, wife.”
Olive’s brows rose, even as her blood began to hum again. “Working?” She remembered what he’d said earlier. “Here, in your study?”
“Work, work, work,” he sighed, even as he plucked at her responsive nipples.
With a moan, Olive arched into his hold. “I love you, Phineas.”
Glancing up from where he was kneeling on the floor between her legs, he gave her a grin full of love and pride. “And I love ye, my wee scholar. Now, take note of how I prove it.”
So she did.