Chapter Sixty-four
Rylee
You’re safe with me.
W hen I open my eyes again, my head is lying on his chest. My body feels weightless and boneless, like I’ve melted entirely into him.
“Did I die?” My fingers trace lazy circles over his warm skin.
“Not quite, mon bébé, just dozed off a little.” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to my hair.
I exhale, my lips curving into a satisfied smile. “That was quite an orgasm, okay?” I chuckle, mostly to myself, still feeling like I’m on cloud nine.
“You did good.” His hand traces lazily circles on my back.
“Hmmm.” I take a deep breath, my nose brushing against his chest. “You smell good. Did you take a shower?”
“Yes. Then I cleaned you with a washcloth,” he says casually, like it’s nothing.
“You did?” My brows lift as I try to recall anything past the mind-blowing orgasm that knocked me out. My brain’s foggy, and my body’s deliciously sore. “How long has it been?”
“Twenty minutes, maybe.”
“Twenty minutes?” I yawn, stretching slightly. “I don’t remember anything. I saw the stars. I’m pretty sure I saw Jesus… or maybe it was the god of orgasms.”
“The god of orgasms?” He chuckles, his chest shaking beneath me. “I thought that was me.”
“Maybe.” I smirk against his skin.
“Are you hungry? Do you want to take a shower?” He brushes a strand of hair from my face as he looks down at me.
“No, I just want to stay like this with you.” I snuggle a little closer.
“Here, drink some water.”
I pull back slightly as he brings the water bottle to my lips, tilting it just enough for me to take a sip. I take a few small sips then settle back against him.
This right here feels more like home than I’ve ever felt. Here, in this bed with him, the world could be falling apart outside, and I wouldn’t care.
“You’re not wearing your ring?” He looks down at my finger.
“My wedding ring? I never took it off.” I hold my fingers to him so he can see it.
“No, I’m talking about your little rose quartz ring.”
I tilt my head to look at him.
“You never took it off before, not even when you take a shower. I’ve noticed how you play with it whenever we talk about us.”
My eyes go wide. I didn’t think he noticed.
“I don’t need it anymore.”
“What do you mean?” He reaches out to stroke my hair.
“It was my great-grandmother’s, passed down to the women in our family as a reminder of the curse.” My finger traces lazy circles on his chest. “I don’t want to believe in the curse anymore.” My voice is so small, I barely recognize it. “But if I want to be fully open to this—to us—there’s something I need to do.”
I pause for a second, my heart pounding with what I’m about to say next. “I’m thinking of going back to the States.”
His body tenses beneath me, freezing like I’ve just ripped the air from his lungs. In a heartbeat, he flips me until he’s hovering above, his eyes locking onto mine, and searching.
“I thought… I thought…” He can barely get the words out. The fear in his eyes, and how terrified he is of losing me, steals my breath away.
I cup his face, brushing my thumbs over the tension in his jaw. “Baby, please let me finish.”
He nods, but his eyes stay guarded, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.
“I want to visit my mom, but I’m coming back.”
His shoulders visibly relax as he exhales a shaky breath, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his body. “For how long?”
“A few days, maybe a week. If we’re going to work, there are some things I need to work out.”
He nods again. “You want me to come with you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I need to do this alone.”
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t argue. “Okay, but take the jet, and I’m sending Bertrand with you.”
I roll my eyes playfully, cupping his face in my hands. “I don’t need a babysitter, Luc. I promise, I’m not running away.”
“You better not.” His forehead presses lightly against mine. “Or I’m coming back to get you myself.”
I laugh, the sound lightening the heavy air between us. “And if I said no? Would you kidnap me?”
“Maybe.” His lips brush against mine. “Don’t give me ideas, Mon Soleil.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I flip us until I’m on top, my thighs straddling his hips. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lean down and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. My heart flutters at the way he’s looking at me, like I’m his entire world.
“I love you,” he whispers. The raw vulnerability in his words makes my chest ache. I believe him. I can feel it, but why can’t I say it back?
I lean down, pressing my forehead against his. “I know,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry… I…”
“It’s okay.” His hands rub soothing circles on my hips. “I’ll say it for both of us until you’re ready, okay?”
I nod, laying my head back on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
I love you, too.
“Can I sleep with your… you… know…” I stumble over the words, tilting my head slightly to look up at him.
He chuckles. “I don’t know, baby. Can you sleep with my what?”
“Luc, stop,” I groan, burying my face against him. “You know what I mean.”
He laughs again, his chest vibrating beneath me. “It’s all yours, baby. Just take it.”
I reach for him, surprised to find him already hard. “How are you hard again?”
“Is that even a question, baby? You’re naked on top of me. I get hard just being in the same room with you.”
“That’s a problem,” I tease, positioning him at my entrance. “You might need to get that checked out.”
“Maybe, but what about you?” he counters. “You’re always so wet for me.”
“That’s the rest of your cum,” I tease back, a playful smile tugging at my lips.
“Are you sure?”
I don’t respond. Slowly, I sink onto him, my body adjusting to the familiar stretch. My breath catches, and his sharp inhale mirrors mine. I lower myself until our bodies are fused, my head resting on his chest again.
We don’t move; we just stay like this, tangled together. I’m so full of him—my heart, my body, my soul. He’s everywhere, filling spaces I didn’t even realize were empty.
“Am I gonna remember this tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
“My therapist says I do this in my sleep because my subconscious is trying to tell me something.” My fingers move without thought as they trace lazily across his stubble.
He doesn’t say anything right away, as if he’s letting me decide.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“That I crave this, not just the sex. The intimacy, the connection.” I pull back a little to look at him. “It scares me a little how much I want this, how much I want you.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of wanting me, mon amour.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.
“But what if I lose this? What if I lose you?” Tears sting behind my eyelids.
“You won’t lose me, baby. I’m yours, always have been, always will be.” He presses a feather kiss to my forehead. “You’re safe with me, Mon Trésor. I promise.”
“Good night, mi luz (my sunshine).” My eyes flutter closed as I bury my head in the crook of his neck. It’ll probably slip out, but it’s nice to fall asleep connected like this.
“Good night, Mon Soleil.” His sleepy voice matches mine.
He pulls the blanket around us as we drift off to sleep, feeling happier than I’ve ever been.