The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(110)
“You’ll have to hurry up and come then, won’t you?” he growled.
She peered up at him with luminous eyes. Her lips tipped up. “I already did.”
Devil and damn, she was a lusty sprite. And she was his. All his.
The thought expanded his chest…and his cock. He relished her dainty and limber frame, how easily he could wrench her up and down his erection, holding her aloft with the thrusts of his prick. Her hands speared into his hair, and she pressed her mouth to his, kissing and kissing him as she took him deep inside. He drove in deeper and deeper still, yearning to be as close in body as they were in mind and soul.
Soon passion overwhelmed him, and he knew he couldn’t hold back much longer.
“Help me, love,” he panted. “Rub your pearl, make yourself spend again.”
Her cheeks flushed, she did as he instructed, reaching between their heaving bodies. His nostrils flared as he watched her slender finger work in her dark thatch, rubbing her little bud as his thick shaft spread her tender petals. The sight of her diddling herself, of his cock plowing her, was too much to bear.
For her, too, apparently.
She gave a breathless cry, her pussy quickening, gushing around his turgid member. The lush milking of her passage summoned his own climax. He shouted out as he blew his seed inside his wife in bursts of hot, endless pleasure.
He buried his face in her fragrant curls, trying to catch his breath.
“So now that we’ve christened my dressing room,” Tessa whispered in his ear, “is yours next?”
“You’ll have to give me some time to recover, you wanton minx.” With a laughing groan, he reluctantly eased from her, setting her toes on the floor. He chucked her under the chin. “And if we’re to christen every chamber of this place, I’ll have my work cut out for me.”
“Grandpapa may have overdone it,” she muttered.
As a wedding gift, Black had given them this palatial residence in Mayfair. What was remarkable about the place wasn’t just its many rooms…but the size of its nursery.
“Let’s just say his hint was unsubtle,” Harry said dryly.
He helped Tessa into her dressing gown before donning his own. He reached into his pocket for his new watch, his lips curving as his fingers brushed the engraved back. Tessa had given the piece to him last week when he’d been readmitted to the Royal Society. With De Witt’s perfidy revealed, Harry’s reputation had been restored.
The Society had also recognized Harry for his work in the development of safety standards for the handling of explosive materials. How strange it’d been to have his old ambitions fulfilled, to recognize that, as grateful as he was for the honor, he’d been given a far greater one.
Tessa’s cheeky inscription on the watch said it all: To my husband and Professor of Love.
There weren’t any titles or honors he wanted more.
“Harry, I’m late.”
“Now she worries.” He shook his head, smiling. “Don’t fret, we have an hour yet. We’ll get you to the ceremony on time.”
“I’m not talking about the ceremony.”
Her meaning hit him like a blast of gunpowder. Obliterated his ability to speak.
Her cheeks were pink, her eyes sparkling. “If it’s a boy, may I choose the name?”
“Whatever you want,” he managed.
He snatched up her hands, kissed them one by one. He was overwhelmed with feeling, but, with Tessa, he didn’t mind. Because he knew she would always keep his heart safe.
* * *
Entering Nightingale’s, Tessa experienced a strange case of nerves.
After the hellfire, Grandpapa had funded the coffee house’s reconstruction. Although the new interior looked much like the old one, there were some significant changes. He no longer conducted business from an alcove but from a separate suite added to the back of the building.
“You’ll be fine,” Harry said in an undertone as they approached the new chamber.
Her heart brimmed at the understanding in his warm brown eyes. Day by day, their intimacy had grown, and sometimes it seemed as if they could even read each other’s thoughts.
“I hope they’ll accept me,” she whispered back.
“How could they not? You’ve been the leading force in rebuilding the underworld.”
She smiled at his confidence in her. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you.”
At that moment, Swift Nick popped his head out…from the pocket of Harry’s jacket. Tessa had wanted to look as commanding as possible for today’s event, and her fitted cerise promenade dress, while smart, had limited space to house a ferret. Luckily, Swift Nick had grown quite fond of his other human.
“Wish me luck, Swift Nick,” she said.
The ferret made a took-took sound as she petted his head. With a wink, he burrowed back into Harry’s pocket.
She and Harry arrived at the oak doors flanked by a pair of guards who bent low.
“Ready, sprite?” Harry said.
She slid her hand into his, and their fingers linked.
“Ready, Professor,” she said.
She drew in a breath and nodded at the guards. They pushed open the doors, and she walked into the grand chamber. A chandelier hung over the massive round table, around which sat the most powerful men of the underworld. They all rose at her entrance, and some—including Garrity, Knight, and the Prince of Larks—bowed as she passed.