She milked his cock, bringing him deeper into her depths, her hips slamming against his as she caught his rhythm. It was so good. Too good. This was not just a mere joining but an affirmation of life, of love, of them.
Felix and Johanna. In her, he had found himself again. And he told her with his body. As he whispered the words. As he kissed her everywhere, every patch of delectable skin he could find. As he thrust in and out of her slippery cunny. He reached between them, finding her pearl and stroking it.
She came again on a scream he silenced with his lips. As she tightened on him with such delicious, slick strength, he knew he could not last a second longer. He slammed deep into her one last time before pleasure exploded. His release was potent and sudden. He spilled into her hot, wet depths, filling her with his seed because he could. Because tomorrow, she would be his duchess, and they would never again spend another night apart.
When the last pulse of his pinnacle faded, he collapsed against her, holding her tight. Their hearts matched a frantic pace, beating almost as one.
“I love you, Felix,” she whispered, clutching him every bit as tightly as he did her.
He kissed her swollen lips once more, emotion cracking open inside him, the sweetest release of all. “And I love you.”
Safe in each other’s arms, they fell asleep at last.
Epilogue
New York City, 1883—Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Winchelsea, of London, England, have today announced the opening of a well-appointed new orphanage called the Pearl-Verity House. Her Grace, more famously known by her former stage name, Mademoiselle Rose Beaumont, previously presented a generous donation of five thousand pounds to the New York Foundling Hospital in honor of His Grace.
The Duchess, who has retired from the stage and is now an expatriate, has also recently taken on the management of a three thousand seat capacity theater in the West End of London called The Pearl. His Grace, the Duke of Winchelsea, purchased and restored the theater along with renowned theater owner Mr. Theodore Saville, to tremendous opulence…
reported inThe New York Times
Johanna was seatedat the piano in the grand music room she and Felix had designed as part of the restorations to Halford House in the wake of the explosion and fire. Tucked to each side were her two favorite people in the world: Felix on her left and Verity on her right.
Felix’s long fingers worked nimbly over the keys as the melody of a familiar ditty filled the chamber. Verity’s little hands joined in seamlessly. Johanna looked from father to daughter, love filling her so full she could do nothing but radiate pure, unadulterated joy.
She had never been happier. Nor had she ever loved more, or been more loved. It seemed she had found her brave new world, and it was here and now.
“I walked past a spruce,” sang Felix then in his beautiful, deep voice, “and found a goose on the loose who was pecking the feet of a man named Pete.”
Verity giggled. “Good one, Papa!”
“Thank you, poppet.” He cast a wink in his daughter’s direction before glancing back to Johanna. “Your turn, my dear.”
He sang the words to her. Sang them. The man would have won her heart all over again had it not already belonged to him, for that alone. He was such a good father. And soon, their little family would grow. She cradled her burgeoning belly, just beginning to be noticeable beneath her gown.
Fortunately, she had been working up her rhymes and had one at the ready.
“There once was a man from New York,” she sang, “who refused to use his fork. He said when I dine, I shall eat like a swine.”
She ended her verse by mimicking the snorting oinks of a pig.
She was an unconventional duchess, it was true. Fortunately, Felix was an unconventional duke, and Verity was an unconventional little lady. She had no doubt that the daughter or son in her womb would emerge quite unconventional as well. They were a family, and that was all that mattered.
Verity and Felix both collapsed in peals of laughter at her pig impression, Felix wiping tears of hilarity from the corners of his eyes. “My favorite part was the bit where you made the pig sound. Your nose scrunched up adorably.”
“The naughty goose was terribly funny,” Verity added as her giggles subsided, “but I must admit Mama outperformed you once more. It seems to be a going concern, Papa.”
Mama.No matter how many times she heard Verity say that precious word, it would always find its way inside her heart. She had become the Duchess of Winchelsea when she had wed Felix, butMamawas the greatest title she could ever possess. And Mama to Verity—that was a title which had been earned. A title she had been reluctant to usurp. She had never asked for it. But when Verity had chosen to call her Mama for the first time, it had been one of the best days of Johanna’s life.
“A going concern, is it?” Felix asked, repeating Verity’s words as he raised a brow at his daughter. “I cannot argue with you on the matter, poppet. She is my better in every way.”
“I am not,” Johanna denied, another rush of love washing over her, this time so strong, it made her eyes sting.
She sniffled.
Being in a delicate condition had turned her into a veritable watering pot.
“You are,” Felix insisted.
