Her body sagged and I jumped to my feet to catch her before she fell. Because that was my job—to catch her before she fell. Now and forever.
“Someone needs to lie down,” I said, scooping her up and taking her into our bedroom.
“I’d forgotten how good you were at that,” she said, grinning up at me from where she was lying on the bed, watching me as I unbuttoned my shirt.
“You forgot?” I asked.
She laughed. “I have a bad memory. You’re going to have to remind me of those other things you used to do to me as well.”
I shrugged off my shirt and as quickly as I could, stepped out of my shoes and trousers. “Other things?”
“Yeah, you know. Naked things.”
I groaned at her words, fisting my cock as I neared her. “I’d be very happy to remind you of it all. I want it etched on your brain.”
I climbed onto the bed, over her, my weight to one side of her. I stroked her side, under her arm, next to her breast that was always my favorite part of her.
She gasped. “Stop,” she said, pushing me to my back and sitting up. “We’ve not thought this through.”
I was done thinking; I needed to be inside her. “Hey, I’ve done nothing but think this through.” I tried to focus on what she was saying and ignore the throbbing of my cock.
“We should talk practicalities before we—I mean I don’t want to think everything is fine and—”
“What practicalities?” I grabbed her and pulled her back against me. “I have a condom if that’s what you mean, but—”
Her hands lay chastely on my chest and it took serious effort not to push them down to my cock.
“I’m not kidding, we haven’t discussed a prenup, whether or not we want kids, where we’re going to live . . . Do you see yourself going back to England?”
I groaned. I didn’t care about any of this shit. I just wanted her—whatever that looked like. “Scarlett, I don’t need a prenup because we’re never getting divorced. And I want as many kids as you do, and I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.”
“What if I said I want twelve kids?” she asked, circling her finger on my chest. My dick jumped in response.
“Then we’ll have twelve kids, and I’ll enjoy making them with you.” I rolled her to her back and dipped to kiss her.
“I don’t want twelve kids. Maybe three. But I don’t want to live in your apartment.”
“Three is good. And pick a home. You want to move back to Connecticut?”
She shook her head. “My life in Connecticut is over. I’m ready for a new life with you. I want to be in Manhattan, but I like England and Woolton.”
“We can visit a lot. I’ll contact some real estate agents tomorrow and we’ll start looking for a new place together. Three kids are going to require a yard.”
She grinned. “You’re thinking ahead.”
“To our life together,” I said. Her hands skirted around to my back.
“I like that,” she said, her legs parting wider and I nudged at her entrance. “No condom?” she asked.
“You want three kids, remember? And we are married.”
Her eyes fluttered as I began to push into her. I couldn’t wait to get her pregnant. Again and again.
“Oh Ryder,” she whispered as I filled her to the hilt. “I love you so much.”
“You mean you love my dick,” I said, dipping to lick the hollow just above her collarbone.
“That is for sure,” she said with a grin.
“Works for me,” I replied. I blinked as I pulled out of her, that delicious tightness of hers pressing all around and shooting sensation down every limb. Christ, what had I done to deserve a woman like this?
I pressed my cock, coated in her wetness, in again, quicker this time, and she cried out as if she was surprised by how good it made her feel. I hoped I’d always make her feel that way.
My skin slid against hers, our sweat mixing together and becoming one. I gathered pace, unable to hold myself back. We were together, both where we should be. Her fingernails dug into my shoulder and the twitch in her hips told me she was close. Seeing what I could do to her always pushed me over the edge. Her stomach arched up and I thrust again, gasping as I filled her—our climaxes perfectly in time.
“I never want you to forget how I can make you feel,” I panted into her ear. “How I’ll always make you feel. You’re never to forget that you’re mine, Duchess. That’s just how it is and how it will always be.”
Epilogue
Ryder
The gravel under my feet was confirmation we were back at Woolton. Before I’d shut the car door, Darcy sped past Lane and me to hug my wife, who was only half out of the car. “It’s so good to see you,” Darcy said. “Was the flight terrible?”
Despite my sister’s show of affection, I hadn’t let go of Scarlett’s hand. Since we’d huddled over the pregnancy test, holding each other, waiting for that double blue line to appear, I’d been able to stomach being away from her even less than usual. I’d be very happy for her to move Cecily Fragrance into our building. We could even share an office. My suggestion had been refused with an eye roll. I’d bring it up again when Scarlett had the baby. The three of us could hang out all day. We could put a playpen in one corner, my desk in another, Scarlett’s by the window. It seemed like a perfect solution.
“The flight was fine. Except no champagne,” Scarlett said.
“Urgh,” Darcy replied. “That’s the worst.”
“I had champagne,” Violet called from where she was clambering out of the car.
“You’re going to need it to get through dinner,” Darcy mumbled. “Nobody have a cow,” she said, as she took Scarlett’s purse, studiously avoiding eye contact with me.
“Tell me you didn’t,” I said. Had she invited Frederick and Victoria to dinner?
She sighed and turned to walk back into the house as Lane unpacked the car. “It wasn’t my choice. They invited themselves over.”
“Who?” Violet asked.
I squeezed Scarlett’s hand. “My cousin and his wife.”
Violet groaned. “Fred and Vi,” she said and Scarlett began to giggle. God, there was nothing more beautiful to me than her happiness.
Pregnant and happy.
“Honestly, they seem to be making an effort,” Darcy said. “I guess what’s done is done. And you have a few hours to sleep a little before they arrive at seven.”
I checked my watch. Not long enough.
As I stepped inside, Scarlett squealed. “You did it.” She dropped my hand. “It’s perfect.”
“Lane and Mrs. MacBee don’t approve, of course,” Violet replied.
“It looks great. Good for you,” Scarlett said.
I tried to work out what was going on as I glanced from one of them to the other but they were just staring at the floor. “What are you two shrieking about?” I asked.
“The carpet, silly,” Scarlett replied. “Do you like it? Darcy wondered if she should ask you but I said you trusted her.”
“The carpet?” I asked, staring at the floor.