Chestnut Hill
One Beautiful August Day
Miranda laughed as Sebastian ran with her down the hall, the skirt of her rose-colored gown held up to keep from tripping as they fled from their own wedding breakfast for a moment’s privacy.
“Shh,” he warned, his mouth coming down to capture hers as he opened his bedroom door and pulled her inside. “They’ll find us.” His lips trailed down her throat. “And the last thing I want right now is to be found.”
Neither did she. But she couldn’t tamp down her happiness and laughed again even as he continued to kiss her, even as he walked her backward across the room to the bed. Their bed now, and her heart somersaulted with joy.
Through the window, open wide to let in the fresh air of the warm summer day, she heard the noise of the party on the lawn below and tried to summon any feeling of guilt that they’d abandoned their own celebration. But when his hands brushed up her body, caressing over the satin gown and the aching curves beneath, she abandoned any possibility of feeling anything else today but sheer bliss.
He touched his lips to hers. “Close your eyes.”
She did as he bade her, trusting him completely with her heart and now with her life and her future. But she felt him move away from her, heard him cross the room to his dresser and pull open a drawer…Curiosity raced through her as she felt him return to her.
“Now, open.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she gasped at the necklace he held up in front of her. A rose-shaped ruby pendant, and the most beautiful piece of jewelry she’d ever seen—second only to her wedding ring. “Oh, Sebastian, it’s stunning!”
“I’m glad you like it.” He grinned and motioned for her to turn around, then gently placed the gold chain around her neck. “Because it’s your wedding gift.”
Her fingers trembled as she brushed them over the necklace. Tears of happiness once more threatened at her lashes, as they had all morning from the moment she crawled out of bed at dawn, too excited to sleep another wink. Even as her auntie, Josie, and Elizabeth helped her dress and rode with her in the carriage to the parish church, she felt as if she were floating in a dream. And now she knew she was wrong.
She wasn’t in a dream. She was in heaven.
“Thank you,” she breathed, unable to speak any louder around the knot in her throat.
“I had it made for you.” He placed a kiss at the nape of her neck, and the heat of his lips shivered deliciously through her. “A rose for my Rose.”
“It’s perfect,” she sighed. Everything about today was absolute perfection. Because of Sebastian. How was it possible to love anyone this much?
He fastened the clasp. “How did you come up with that name anyway…Rose?”
Then his hands trailed down her back to unfasten the row of tiny pearl buttons keeping the snug-fitting, old-fashioned bodice of her dress in place. So snug-fitting, in fact, that there was no room for a shift or stays beneath the low-cut neckline and the form-fitted waist, and an appreciative groan of pleasure sounded from him when he discovered that for himself. Her lips curled devilishly—the exact reaction she’d hoped for.
His hands peeled the satin down her curves and off, to let it pile at her feet, until she stood in only her stockings and the gold necklace, the ruby pendant dangling in the valley between her bare breasts.
“You don’t know?” She rolled her head as he pulled her back against him and stroked his hands over her body, caressing at her breasts before wandering down to her hips, then lower still to the aching heat throbbing between her legs. When his fingers slid into her cleft, she quivered against him, already aching for him there, so eager to make love to him as his wife.
He lowered her onto the bed and followed down on top of her, his mouth never leaving her body as he quickly stripped from his own clothes. The rose pendant lay between her breasts, shining in the sunlight that slanted across the bed, the same sunlight that turned his hair golden as he lowered his head to kiss at her nipples.
When he took one between his lips and sucked, she moaned and arched beneath him, curving her body eagerly into his. Oh, wicked man! And finally all hers, now and for the rest of their lives.
He chuckled at her enthusiasm, the sound tickling at her breast. “I thought the name was just part of the masquerade.” He licked his tongue across her nipple and elicited a plaintive whimper from her, a formless plea for more.
She writhed beneath him, her hands fisting at the sheet as she fought to keep back the rising wave inside her. This was their first joining together as husband and wife, and she wanted to make it last as long as she could.
“Rose,” she panted out as he shifted his body into the cradle of her thighs, evidence of his own desire pressing against her lower belly, “is my…middle name.”
He leaned up onto his forearm to gaze lovingly down at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “Miranda Rose Carlisle,” he murmured and touched his lips to hers to kiss the name onto her. “My Rose.” Then another kiss, this one lingering, hot and breathtaking, one that made her shake with arousal and need. “Duchess of Trent.” Another kiss, this one teasing her lips open to allow him to plunge deep inside her mouth and claim all of her kiss for him and him alone. “Baroness Althorpe.”
She tightened her arms around his neck, her thighs trembling with sweet anticipation, and she whispered, unable in her happiness to speak any louder, “Your wife.”
“And the name of our first daughter.” He lowered his hips and claimed her.
Tossing back her head as a wave of utter happiness crashed over her, she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back. As she welcomed his body as deeply inside hers as possible, never wanting to let him go, the moan transformed into a laugh of utter happiness. “But I’m not with child.”
“Soon, love,” he murmured against her temple as she shattered in his arms, her love for him refusing to be restrained a heartbeat longer. “Very soon.”