Weston (Broken Falls #6)

Chapter Thirty

CHAPTER THIRTY

Melanie

W e enter the house, and I gaze at my husband. I'm so thankful to have this second chance at life that I want to be able to celebrate that with him. Reaching forward, I grab his hand. "I don't know about you, but I need a shower. Would you like to come with me?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Are you sure?" Weston knows exactly what I'm hinting at.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

The bathroom fills with steam, the air thick with the scent of lavender and the electrifying hum of unsaid desires. I step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over my tense skin, each droplet like a soft hand coaxing me to let go of the day's turmoil. My eyes flutter shut as the warmth envelops me, a soft sigh slipping past my lips, a release I'd been craving.

Just as I'm about to surrender entirely to the soothing rhythm of the water, strong hands slide around my waist, jolting me from my reverie. My heart skips a beat, but the sensation quickly shifts from surprise to surrender as I recognize his embrace. His breath is hot on my neck, whispering my name,"Melanie",the sound so laden with longing that it sends a bolt of anticipation down my spine, cutting through the steamy heat.

I turn to face him, our eyes locking in that electric gaze that makes everything else disappear. He gently tucks a wet strand of hair behind my ear before claiming my lips in a kiss that ignites a firestorm of need between us. The world outside dissolves; there's nothing but him and the wild way he makes me feel.

Our bodies press together, his every touch a jolt of electricity. His hands trace the contours of my body, relearning the lines and curves with a fervor that makes my pulse quicken. I arch into him, a moan bubbling up as he finds that secret spot beneath my ear, the one that turns my bones to liquid.

"Weston" I breathe his name like a prayer, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

His response is a low growl, raw with need. He lifts me effortlessly, pinning me against the shower wall. The cooling tiles contrast sharply with the heat between us, every sensation heightened to the brink of delirium. I wrap my legs around his waist, anchoring myself to him as our lips and hands move with an increasing urgency.

Water streams over us, mixing with our heated breaths and whispered promises. Each caress is a desperate plea, each movement fanning the flames of an insatiable hunger. We find a rhythm, a dance as old as time, our bodies speaking a language no words could ever capture.

Time hangs suspended, the world a distant memory as we ride the crest of our desire until it shatters around us. The reality of everything fades into obscurity; there is only this moment, this connection, as profound and terrifyingly beautiful as the pull of the ocean.

As we descent from that exhilarating height, we cling to one another beneath the soothing spray. My head rests against Weston's chest, and the steady drum of his heartbeat grounds me, a comforting rhythm that settles every lingering tremor of uncertainty.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice a vow as solid as the tub beneath our feet.

"I love you too," he answers, his voice unyielding in its certainty.

In this intimate, steamy sanctuary, we know that no matter what lies await us in the outside world, we have crafted something indestructible, an unbreakable bond, built and rebuilt in moments like these, forged in unyielding passion and unspoken understanding.