He lowered her hand from his lips and tucked it against his chest before leading her toward the stairs. Catherine followed, the air crackling with the kind of tension that made his body pulse with desire. He guided her into his room, amusement tugging on his lips. He paused for a moment as Catherine lingered beside him.
“Whenever I imagined you with me, it was always here. I just realized it.”
Catherine’s hand pulled away from where he had tucked it into his chest, and she splayed her fingers across his shoulder, her warmth radiating through her fingertips and echoing in his body as if blowing on embers, causing them to glow.
Quin turned to face her, shutting the door behind them without breaking eye contact. He took a small step toward her, closing the distance that no longer needed to separate them.
Ever again.
The need to touch Catherine was overwhelming. He reached up and traced the line below her jaw, encouraging her nearer. He rested his head against hers. His panting was ragged, echoing hers as he memorized the moment, then lowered his lips to hers.
Her lips were soft and demanding as she pressed in to him, her perfect curves a siren call for his eager body that he couldn’t deny any more than he could deny himself air. His kiss was hungry, and he first nibbled her lower lip, then devoured it, tangling his tongue with hers, waltzing, making love with his mouth. It wasn’t enough, and he trailed his kiss from her lips to her jawline, licking the curve just beside her ear and then nibbling down below her earlobe, feasting on her soft whimpers of pleasure. It was his undoing, her surrender.
She was a fierce ally.
A devoted friend.
Every inch the great force of nature her namesake claimed to be.
And she was his.
And more important, he was hers. Utterly.
“I love you,” he whispered, worshiping with his voice as his lips captured hers once more. “I adore every inch of you, body and soul.”
“Quin.” Her voice was breathless, adding to his already delirious need to claim her. “I love you… I love you, I love—”
He silenced her vows with a searing kiss, then lifted her into his arms to carry her to their bed.
Fulfilling every promise to worship her body with the reverence she deserved.
Epilogue
The title of Queen rang sweet to my ears, child though I was… This idea of a crown began running in my head then like a tune, and has been running a lot in it ever since.
—Catherine the Great
Her Grace Catherine, née Greatheart, Duchess of Wesley, was less than pleased with her grandmother, who had insisted upon leaving her sickroom and attending the celebration ball that the Dowager Duchess of Wesley had asserted must be given to present the newlyweds.
Since arriving back in London, they had learned that Quin’s mother’s efforts to curb the gossip surrounding Lord Bircham and Catherine had been successful, especially with Mrs. Burke having abandoned London before she had done a thorough job in spreading the news.
Lord Bircham had written Quin, stating that he was certain that his mother, Mrs. Burke, had no intentions of creating further trouble for them, and he was staying in Cambridge to make sure of it.
Now the only loose end was the formal part to announce and celebrate Catherine’s scandalous and romantic wedding to His Grace the Duke of Wesley. The gossip had spread like wildfire, so every invitation the former Duchess of Wesley dispatched had been accepted eagerly.
Catherine was waiting for the maid to finish the final details of her hair when there was a knock on her door. It was strange, having her own room with a bed that she never slept in, but it was convenient to have a rather large closet all to herself, so she’d accepted the trade, though she did spend most of her time in the rooms designated as Quin’s. Her lips dimpled at the corners, holding in her amusement as she bid the person knocking to enter.
Quin’s beloved face lit up as she met his gaze, love radiating like the warmth from a fire. “I have something for you.” His expression turned playful.
The maid stepped back, gave a quick curtsy, and left the room.
“Oh? And what is that?” Catherine stood and faced her husband, and unable to resist, she rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly, then a bit more hungrily, unable ever to get enough of him.
“If you continue on that path, love, we won’t make it to the party.” Quin’s panting was ragged.
“I love that you can’t resist me.” Catherine spoke softly, seductively.
“Love, it goes both ways.”