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Epilogue
Greta Green was a different kind of beautiful, a fresh contrast to the homes Belle had been accustomed to in England. Or, perhaps the beauty of her surroundings had little to do with its literal physical state, and more to do with the gentleman by her side.
Belle sent Stephen another smile, unable to keep her happiness contained. How could she when she had just married her love? Though it was not the sort of wedding she’d ever pictured for herself, Belle didn’t think it could have been more perfect. And now, she could finally call herself the Belle Townshed, the Duchess of Dunleer.
Belle rested her head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand as she did. As the coach carried them across the stone-packed roads, the jerkiness of her ride did not bother her. It was too perfect—the smell of him, the feel of his large hand grasping hers, the knowledge of where they were heading.
“You are turning red,” came Stephen’s rumble of a voice.
At the observation, Belle blushed even more. She should not be surprised that he noticed. He hadn’t taken her eyes off her since they climbed into the coach. “Forgive me,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I am afraid my thoughts were drifting.”
“Is that so?” He put a finger to her chin, tilting her face up so that he could gaze into her eyes. Belle absently wondered if she would ever get used to him being in such close proximity. Her heart was hammering against her chest, butterflies filling her stomach. “Pray tell what has made you so red, Belle?”
“I think you already know,” she murmured. She didn’t know how much the coachman could overhear.Yet, for some reason, I simply do not care.
“May I venture a guess?” he asked with a wicked grin.
Muted, Belle nodded, unable to tear her eyes from his.
Stephen leaned closer, until his lips were brushing her ear. Belle shuddered. “You are thinking of us alone, are you not? Without our clothes and me kissing you all over.”
She gripped her dress. It was a simple wedding dress, one her mother had hastily made for her before she left. When she didn’t answer in time, Stephen went on, “Or perhaps your thoughts were venturing to other things. Like how it will feel to have me inside you for the first time.”
“Stephen!” she gasped. Belle thought her face might be on fire. She glanced at the coachman, but the man had not even turned.
Stephen’s wicked grin didn’t diminish in the slightest. “Worry not, My Love. We’ve arrived.”
He pulled away from her, but he kept a hold on her hand as he helped her out of the coach. After paying the man his dues, Stephen led her up to the beautiful cottage they would be spending the next few days in. It was small, with only one servant who was currently away to give the newly married couple their privacy.
As they made their way over the stone pathway, Stephen suddenly scooped her off her feet, pulling a surprised squeal out of her.
“I do not think I will ever tire of doing that,” he said, nuzzling her in her neck.
Belle didn’t know whether to laugh or let out her excited pants as the sensation of his lips against her neck had her knees buckling together. “You have always been a man of habit, I suppose. Why else would you a Duke like yourself wish to live in such a small cottage with but a single servant on hand?”
“It is only because I wish to spend all my time alone with my wife. Is that so bad?”
“On the contrary, My Love, I think it is a marvelous idea.”
“Wonderful. Because I have many plans for us.” With a strong booted foot, he managed to get the door open. Because of the remote location of the cottage, Stephen didn’t bother to shut it behind him, though it did sway to a nearly-closed state.
Belle trembled at his words. She didn’t have to ask what those plans were. She could see it in his eyes, could read it in the steps he took as he made his way to the bedchamber they would share.
Gently, he lowered her onto the bed. Belle didn’t let her eyes waver from him as Stephen slowly began to undress himself. He too held her gaze, each move he made a tantalizing sight that made her tense with need. She wanted to undress as well, but she was captured by the sight, unable to do anything but watch.
When he was finally naked, his full length demanded all her attention. Belle’s mouth watered with need.
“It is your turn,” Stephen rasped, holding out a hand. Belle took it and allowed him to help her to her feet. She began to undress, but he stopped her. Alarmed, she widened her eyes at him as he put her hands by her side and started taking her dress off.
She thought she would feel embarrassed when she was finally naked before him, but not a sliver of nervousness appeared. She felt happy, rejuvenated, energized. Belle let the passion and need capture her every sense until she was positively vibrating with that longing. Drinking in his well-toned chest, his pert nipples, his hardened girth that brushed her thigh as he stepped closer.
“Lie on the bed,” he ordered in a soft tone.
Belle did as she was told, anticipating his touch. Once she was done, he positioned his body over her. “You are so beautiful,” he said breathlessly.
Belle gasped when he lowered his tongue to her neck. He began to lick her there, bringing it up to her ear and then back down where he nibbled. She writhed beneath him, feeling his hand crawl up to grasp her breast and play with her peaked nipples.
“Oh, Stephen,” she gasped, arching under his touch.
