Page 40 of Snowed In with the Jilted Duke

The waves of pleasure were stronger now, surging higher and higher until, with a cry, she crested, squeezing him hard as she peaked. His hands clutched at her hips, bucking against her until he cried out her name, crushing her against him as she wrapped herself around him.

Never wanting to let him go.

Oliver felt tears prick at his eyes, burying his face in Pippa’s neck as he clutched her to him. He had not meant to finish inside her. He had meant to pull out as he always did with his mistresses, to protect her from the consequences of their actions.

But he had not. Because he knew on some level that if she became pregnant, her father would be forced to allow them to marry.

He was not proud of himself, but he had very little pride left when it came to Pippa.

She sighed and he raised his head. Her eyes shone in the dim light, and she leaned down to kiss him with aching sweetness. Already, his cock was softening inside her, but he wanted to stay for as long as she would allow him.

“That was lovely,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re lovely. Beautiful. My Pippa.”

She kissed him again and he basked in the afterglow for as long as he could. He shifted her to lay across his lap and wrapped both of them in his banyan, holding her close as she dozed in his arms.

He would speak to her father the moment he arrived. They would straighten this tangle out, and then he would marry Pippa.

He couldn’t bear the thought of a future without her.

12

Pippa woke the next morning almost feeling it had all been a dream, but the aches and pains of unfamiliar activity told her it had not been. She and Oliver had helped each other back into their clothes, giggling and caressing, and then he had walked her to her door, leaving her with a kiss that melted her knees before reluctantly returning to his own room.

“Sally!” Pippa called. “I shall need a bath this morning.”

The maid’s reply from the dressing room was faint but affirmative, and Pippa returned to her drowsing, keeping the covers pulled up to her chin until the fuss of bringing the bath died down and Sally was ready for her.

As Pippa washed, her body felt both familiar and new, somehow at the same time. The water flowed over her skin like Oliver’s hands, the washcloth slightly scratchy like the night beard that had shadowed his face. In the mirror, she looked the same as always, but she felt different, as though her body knew what it was made for now. And she wanted to use it for that again.

Her mouth set in disapproving lines, Sally prepared her for the day without her usual chatter. At last, she said, “You were not in your bed when I checked last night, miss.”

Pippa flushed deep red. “It’s all right, Sally.”

“You’re not even properly betrothed, Miss Philippa.”

“We will be,” Pippa said confidently, but she quailed under Sally’s stern gaze.

“There’s many a girl who thought she would be, and many a girl who’s been disappointed. That’s all.”

Sally’s words planted a seed of doubt in Pippa’s mind, but she shook it off as best she could.

“Thank you, Sally. That will be all.”

Sally sniffed, still shaking her head, and Pippa let herself out of the room, hurrying towards the Green Salon. It was later than she had thought, and she needed to join the rest of the family for the day’s activities.

As she opened the door, the gathered family began to applaud, and she stepped back, blushing.

“Brava, Juliet!” someone called out, and she curtsied, putting a hand out to Oliver. He immediately came to her side and kissed her hand, his eyes devouring her.

They did another theatrical bow together, to general laughter, before Pippa moved to kiss the dowager’s cheek.

“You are looking well this morning, Penelope.”

Pippa managed to not flinch at the use of her sister’s name. She had nearly forgotten it was all a masquerade.

“I feel well… Grandmama. It is a lovely morning.”