The Duke’s Sinful Bride (Vows of Sin #5)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

“ I enjoyed myself today,” Yvette said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. Her voice was a little hushed, as if she didn’t want to disturb the peace. “It finally felt like we’re a real family.”

The day had turned to dusk, and the quiet of the garden now settled around them like soft clouds.

The remnants of the picnic—empty tea cups, crumbs of tarts, and a few scattered napkins—were gently swept away by the evening breeze. Maisie, exhausted from the day’s excitement, had drifted off to sleep on Yvette’s lap, her small hand curled gently against her chest.

Yvette sat back, her eyes drifting towards the horizon where the sun was beginning to dip below the trees.

The sky was a palette of orange and purple, and the warmth of the day lingered in the air, wrapping them in a quiet sense of contentment. She looked at Killian beside her, his gaze not on the horizon but on Maisie.

Finally, Killian gave a small nod, but his attention remained on Maisie’s small, peaceful form resting in Yvette’s lap.

After a beat passed, he turned his head slightly, his eyes still on Maisie, and asked, “are you comfortable with her calling you ‘duchess’ instead of ‘mother’?”

Yvette’s lips quirked into a smile, and she let out a soft laugh, as if the idea were both amusing and heartwarming.

“I would be content if she regards me as her mother, but does not cease calling me duchess on occasion. It’s rather endearing. It’s the way we bond.” She ran her fingers gently through Maisie’s soft hair, the child stirring slightly but not waking.

Killian laughed at her words, tipping his head back slightly. It was the first time that day he had looked so relaxed and at ease.

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence as they both watched the last traces of daylight fade, the sky turning darker by the minute. But then, Yvette’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Whatever happened to Maisie’s mother?” she asked quietly, her voice a little tentative as she broke the stillness. “You never speak of her.”

Killian’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes moving away from Yvette and Maisie as he took in the question. His jaw tightened slightly as he gathered his thoughts.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice calm but carrying the weight of unspoken history.

“My union with Albina was an arranged marriage. We were both young when we entered into it, and though there was no great love between us, there was mutual understanding and respect.”

His gaze turned toward the horizon again, as if he could see the past stretching out before him, just beyond his reach.

“We were bound by duty. Our roles were clear, and we followed them without question. There was never any illusion of romance, but we both understood the importance of our marriage.”

Yvette listened, her heart softening as she observed the faraway look in his eyes.

Killian had never been the type to speak openly about personal matters, and yet, in his telling, there was no bitterness or regret—just an acceptance of the cards he had been dealt.

“She died during childbirth,” Killian continued, his voice quietening. “I never wanted to marry again after that. Not because I felt some great obligation to her, but because I didn’t think I could go through the stress of it all again. I couldn’t bring myself to put anyone else in that position, and certainly, I had no desire to revisit the same pattern. Until ye.”

Yvette nodded slowly, her fingers still brushing Maisie’s hair. She could understand his reluctance, the pain of losing someone so abruptly.

There was a certain finality in his words, as if he had resolved long ago to close the door on that chapter of his life.

“Have ye ever seen him again?” Killian asked, breaking the silence.

“Seen who?”

“Yer… yer former fiancé,” his tone was casual, but Yvette could sense the underlying seriousness of the question.

Samuel.

Yvette’s smile was small, a bit sad. “No. And I hope I never have to,” she replied.

Her voice wavered slightly, and she bit her lip as she thought of the man she had once been bound to.

“Even so, I am aware it isn’t possible to avoid,” she continued. “We will have to return to society soon, and he will be there. I’ll have no choice but to face him.”

She knew that returning to society would mean facing the life she had tried to leave behind, but the reality of it was beginning to weigh on her. The thought of being in the same room with him again filled her with a strange sense of dread.

“I’ll make sure you don’t have to see or interact with him ever again,” Killian said, his voice low, but resolute.

The promise in his words was clear, and the intensity in his eyes made Yvette believe every word.

He seemed ready to protect her from anything—and anyone—that could cause her harm.

And she wasn’t ready to face how warmly she felt about that.

Yvette stepped into the hallway of Braemore Castle, the echoes of laughter and the remnants of the afternoon’s garden party still lingering in her mind.

The thought of Killian consumed her thoughts, his presence weaving through her consciousness like an intoxicating scent.

She was not entirely sure what had changed in her, but the desire that coursed through her veins was undeniable and insatiable.

Although at the back of her mind she suspected it was Killian’s subtle teasing of her earlier.

As she made her way to their shared chamber, memories of their last encounter flooded her mind.

The way he had touched her, the way he had made her feel—alive, electrified, and utterly cherished. It was a feeling she had long suppressed, buried beneath the weight of societal expectations and the shame that had once accompanied her desires.

Now, after the scandal that had rocked her world and the oppressive teachings of St. Catherine’s, she felt liberated. She was no longer the timid young woman who had been molded by strict decorum; she was a duchess, a woman with passions and needs that demanded to be fulfilled.

Yvette paused at the door that connected their room, her heart racing in anticipation.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to do. With a gentle push, she entered his room, her eyes immediately locking onto him.

Killian was seated at the edge of the bed, his shirt half undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his handsome features, but it was quickly replaced by a smirk that sent a thrill through her.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “I didn’t expect to find such a minx for a wife. I should have guessed it the moment ye jumped in front of my pistol.”

Yvette felt a rush of heat at his words, both embarrassment and exhilaration. She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering.

“Perhaps,” she mumbled at first and then cleared her throat, her voice steadier this time, “I want more of what we shared. I want you .”

His eyes darkened with desire, and he stood, closing the distance between them.

“Ye want more, do ye?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll make yer body sing for me until ye can’t stand.” His voice was a seductive promise, and she felt her heart pound even harder against her ribcage.

With a swift movement, he captured her waist, pulling her against him. The warmth of his body against hers sent shivers down her spine, igniting every nerve ending.

Yvette’s heart raced as she tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. There was a wildness in his eyes, a primal need that mirrored her own.

Killian’s hands roamed over her body, exploring the curves that he had yet to fully discover. His fingers brushed against the fabric of her gown, teasingly skimming along her waist before finding the delicate ribbon that held it in place.

With a deft motion, he loosened it, allowing the gown to slip slightly from her shoulders.

“Such beautiful skin,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “I have wanted to see ye like this since the first time I laid eyes on ye.”

With a gentle push, he urged her to sit on the edge of the bed, the cool fabric of the sheets contrasting with the heat radiating from her body. He knelt before her, his hands gliding down her arms, sending delightful shivers across her skin.

As he began to peel the gown from her body, she felt a rush of vulnerability and exhilaration. The fabric cascaded down, pooling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

“Killian,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with anticipation and uncertainty.

He looked up, his gaze intense and possessive.

“Ye are exquisite,” he breathed, before leaning in closer, “especially when ye say my name.”

His lips brushed against her thigh, igniting a fire within her that she could no longer contain. She gasped, her body arching towards him, craving more of his touch.

“Please,” she begged, her voice trembling with need.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Killian,” she obliged, eager to obey him for the first time since they had met.

“Mmhm. Ye’re mine to command now, wife. Mine to pleasure. Do you understand?” he purred.

“Yes,” she breathed shakily, her body buzzing with anticipation.

“Good girl,” he responded and stood, capturing her face in his hands.

He kissed her deeply, his mouth moving against hers with a fervor that left her breathless.

Yvette melted into him, feeling the strength of his body against hers as he deepened the kiss.

His hands found the clasp of her undergarments, and with a swift motion, he freed her from the last of her inhibitions.

Soon, he laid her on her back, his fingers finding wet folds and sliding into her.

“Oh!” She shuddered and moaned, arching off the bed and spasming under his finger.

Yvette had never known pleasure could feel so…freeing.

“Let out yer cries, Yvette. Let me hear ye,” Killian urged as his fingers picked up pace, going in and out in a practiced rhythm.

“Oh Killian!” Yvette cried, her voice breathless, her toes curled, as she reached her first ever climax.

“That was—” she started to say, but Killian peeled himself from her, working his breeches loose.

Yvette colored furiously at Killian’s manhood. She had never seen one before, but the member before her… It made her mouth water.

“I’ll take it easy since it’s yer first time,” he grunted, latching his lips on hers again.

His lips were warm and welcoming, and she was so intoxicated by this kiss that she didn’t realize he’d pierced her entrance, until pain laced through her.

“Christ!” Killian muttered, stilling inside her.

He pushed another inch in, then paused and pushed again.

“All right?” he asked and Yvette nodded, the discomfort swiftly dissolving into pleasure.

“Yes. D—Don’t stop,” she replied breathlessly.

Grinning wickedly, he eased himself out of her, then slid back in slowly, and soon, pleasure returned, and she sighed in relief. She felt stretched and hot, no longer a girl that was sent to a nunnery, but a woman.

Her whole body was on fire with pleasure, vibrating in response to Killian’s thrusts. A sensation sizzled through every part of her, and she held onto him to keep her grounded.

Killian seemed to like that because he sped up his rhythm, his thrusts more powerful than the last, until she felt that toe-curling sensation again.

“Let go, darling,” he urged and within seconds, the tension in her exploded.

Killian let out a hoarse moan as he delivered his final strokes to his orgasm, then they tumbled onto the bed.

The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them.