She’s mine, Ajax thought as his tongue lashed short, hot stripes across her nipple. Fucking mine.
She gasped his name as he sucked and stroked her, arching hard against him. “Please,” she begged. “If this is going to be the last time, then—”
“This is not the last time,” he vowed. “You won’t be his. You can’t be his.”
Because you’re mine.
She found his hip with her free hand, still clutching his head to her breast as she urged him closer. “I’m going to marry your nephew,” she said breathlessly. “And I’m going to reassure him of that fact right after you’re done fucking me.”
The filthy word on her lips robbed him of reason—not that he had much left to rob by now. He finally gave into the need burning in him and began to fit himself inside her opening. She was wet now—so wet that her arousal was anointing even his knuckles where they brushed against her—but she was still tight enough to necessitate two or three strokes to bury himself fully. Tight enough that once he was completely seated, they both had to breathe for several seconds before he could start moving in earnest.
Once he did, he lifted his head to bite her neck and growl against her throat. “You belong to me.”
“I do not,” she said, her eyes fluttering when he pulled back to look at her face. “You made that clear, Ajax. Very clear.”
Pain ripped at him from the inside, and he rode her harder, as if the pleasure could drown out his guilt and regret. “Eleanor,” he said, holding her close so he could bury his face in her hair. Between her thighs, his hips churned. Nothing could ever feel as good as fucking Eleanor Vane—nothing other than holding her, that was.
Nothing other than making her smile. Making her every dream come true.
Giving her a life of ease and satisfaction to replace a life of tasks and obligation.
Nothing other than loving her.
He loved her. He loved her. And he was going to give her everything.
“Tell me why you’ll marry him,” he said, teeth gritted with determination and the gorgeous sensation of his cock gloved inside her. “Is it for the Kingdom?”
Her gaze when it met his was no longer serene—but neither was it anguished or turbulent. Those spring-green eyes were brimming with determination and pride.
“Maybe I can’t have you, Ajax, but I can resurrect the world you left behind, and that would be something. It would be worth it.”
She could have him.
She already had him.
All along the answer had been right here, in this petite warrior of a girl. Your sin wasn’t grief, but fear.
It was the truth. Fear of loving again, of losing again. Of losing the memories of the people he’d lost.
What could he have if he weren’t afraid now?
He could have a wife, one whom he loved and who loved him, and he could have the world left to him by his ancestors. He could have Eleanor and Far Hope both.
“Marry me,” he said abruptly, looking down into those wonderful eyes, into that sweet, strong, hungry face. “Be my wife. Not Gilbert’s, but mine, and I will give you everything, everything you want.”
She stared up at him. “Are you lying to me?”
She had every right to ask, but he knew the answer now. Maybe he’d known it hours ago. Days ago, when he first saw her. He was ready to live again. “No.”
“Are you lying to yourself?”
He cradled her face with his hands; the movement had him sliding inside her and she let out a low noise that made him shiver. “No, little blossom.”
“I want to believe you,” she whispered. “Ever since I saw you, I felt—I knew—” She seemed to struggle for words.
He kissed her gently on the mouth. “I know, Eleanor. I know. I felt it too.”
“But you were so adamant last night. All your plans…and…” She pressed her forehead to his. “Ajax, I’m not Helena.”
“And I don’t want you to be,” he said, closing his eyes. “I loved Helena sixteen years ago, and while I’ll treasure the time I had with her, I am ready to treasure other things too. Other people.”
He opened his eyes, studying her. His little blossom, his firmly rooted tree.
He’d been living like a ghost for years, thinking it would keep him closer to the ones he lost. But it hadn’t. In the end, he’d only lost himself too. And then she’d come along and found him, reminded him that he was flesh and blood still, with a heart that hadn’t yet quit beating.
“It wasn’t until I met you, someone I wanted to live for, that I realized I could still live at all,” he tried to explain. “You were right about me and you were right about my fear. It felt safer than feeling anything else. Because at least in fear, I already expected the worst. But in love—well, in love, I would have to hope for the best. And I didn’t think I could bear it.”
“But you will bear it for me?” she whispered, her eyes searching his.
“For the rest of our lives, Eleanor. Beginning now.”
He drove his hips forward enough that his idea of now would be more than clear. She whimpered and laced her arms around her neck.
“If you marry me, then you must stay.”
“Yes, Eleanor.”
“Remain the duke.”
“Yes.”
“And bring the Kingdom here once again.”
He kissed her lips again. She tasted so sweet, so much like home—like Far Hope. “Yes.”
“Then marry me, Your Grace,” she said between kisses, their mouths mating in slick, warm wonder just as they mated below. “Make me your wife.”
She abruptly broke around him as he murmured, “I will,” and when he flooded into her a moment later, filling his soon-to-be bride, he recognized the truth he’d instinctively known all along: Eleanor Vane wasn’t the solution, she was the question. The beginning.
For Far Hope. For him.
Forever.
The End.
Want more dangerous widowers, gothic houses, and carnal secrets from Sierra Simone?
Check out The Awakening of Ivy Leavold…
Also by Sierra Simone
Thornchapel:
A Lesson in Thorns
Feast of Sparks
Harvest of Sighs
Door of Bruises
Misadventures:
Misadventures with a Professor
Misadventures of a Curvy Girl
Misadventures in Blue
New Camelot:
American Queen
American Prince
American King
The Moon (Merlin’s Novella)
American Squire (A Thornchapel and New Camelot Crossover)
The Priest Collection:
Priest
Midnight Mass: A Priest Novella
Sinner
Co-Written with Laurelin Paige
Porn Star
Hot Cop
The Markham Hall Series:
The Awakening of Ivy Leavold
The Education of Ivy Leavold
The Punishment of Ivy Leavold
The Reclaiming of Ivy Leavold
The London Lovers: