Chapter 16
Daniel
“That’s it,” I praised, watching Rosemary’s back flex and undulate as she rode me. “Harder.”
Gripping her ass in my hands, I guided her movements, the sound of her cries filling the room. I grinned breathlessly as her hips started to jerk, pulling against my control, and before she could even reach for my hand, I sat up and lifted it to her mouth.
Her pussy clenched around me as I felt her teeth break the skin of my wrist. Biting down on her shoulder, I let the familiar taste of her roll over my tongue as my orgasm slammed into me.
It never got old.
The taste of her, the smell of her, the sight of her, the sound of her—every day it felt new. Both exciting and comforting at the same time. I no longer worried every second of every day that someone would take her from me. I no longer worried what I’d turn into if that happened.
We’d already faced that possibility and come through it.
Nothing would separate us. Not ever.
Rosemary would fight as hard as I would to make sure it never happened.
“I know I should get up,” she said, her words a little slurred as she rolled her hips. “But you’re still so hard, and you feel so good where you’re at.”
“Stay as long as you want,” I whispered, cupping her breasts in my hands. “How’s your hip feeling?”
“It’s fine.” She dropped her head back against my shoulder. “Just like the last five times you’ve asked.”
“It’s only been three weeks.” I slid my hand down and traced the scar on her hip. It was smaller than I’d thought it would be, but still raised and red.
“Three weeks is apparently plenty of time,” she replied, lifting off me. “Because I feel great.”
I got an excellent view as she crawled away on her hands and knees, but it was better when she climbed off the bed and turned to face me.
Her hair had been so tangled by the time we could wash it that she’d ordered me to cut it.
No longer reaching the top of her ass, now it just barely covered her breasts.
I missed the length, but I couldn’t deny that the new length suited her too.
To be honest, I wouldn’t have cared if she’d asked me to shave it all off—except for the fact that she’d cried when she’d seen the pieces we’d trimmed off.
“Look.” She raised her arm above her head and wiggled it from side to side. “She sells seashells at the seashore. Not even slurring anymore. I’m all better.”
“I know,” I replied, following her into the bathroom. “But that doesn’t mean that you won’t still have some twinges.”
“If I have twinges, I’ll tell you,” she shot back over her shoulder as she turned on the shower. “But I haven’t.”
“I just—”
“How’s your thigh?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.
“It’s fine. Good as new.”
“Then why do you keep asking about my hip and my arm?”
“I swear, you just want something to bitch about,” I complained as I joined her under the spray.
“Pot, meet kettle.”
“I feel like you’re picking a fight so that we can make up,” I joked, sliding my hand between her thighs. “Is that what’s happening?”
“You’re the one who started it!” She pinched my nipple, making me jerk back in surprise. “We don’t have time for another round. People are going to start getting here in an hour, and I told Reese that I’d help her set up the tables and chairs.”
“Why can’t Beau help her?” I asked, lifting my hands to her hair to help her wash it.
Fuck, I loved showering with her. Gary’s house may have had superior water pressure, but the shower at my place gave us much more room to move, and we’d taken full advantage of it once Rosemary was back on her feet.
“Because it’s a bridal shower,” Rosemary replied. “No boys allowed.”
“He can still help her set up.”
“Stop complaining. We’ll be in separate rooms for like two hours.”
“Maybe I’ll see what your dad is up to,” I said, running my fingers through her hair to rinse the suds out. “He hasn’t been over in a few days.”
“You saw him the day before yesterday,” she said with a laugh, opening her eyes. “Your bestie probably needs a break.”
“Gary loves me.”
“Gary loves his daughter,” she corrected with a snicker. “You’re just what he has to deal with in order to get to her.”
“Hurtful,” I replied. “Ouch.”
“He’s doing good, don’t you think?” she asked tentatively, turning away to reach for her body wash. “I mean, all things considered.”
“Yeah, baby. He’s doing good.”
She nodded and handed me the soap. As she smoothed it over my chest and shoulders, I lathered it into her skin.
It had become almost a ritual since the first time I’d washed her.
We didn’t always shower together, but when we did, we took care of each other.
It wasn’t sexual, though sometimes it wandered into that territory.
It was more about connection, tactile assurance that each of us was healthy and whole.
“We should probably start looking into plans for the house,” I told her, smoothing my hands down her thighs as I kneeled. “And see how long it’ll take to clear some trees.”
“We don’t have to worry about that yet,” she replied hoarsely, running her hands over the tops of my shoulders. “Chance thinks he’s getting close to finding Hermann. We need to finish that first.”
“We can do both,” I countered, pausing to let her spread her legs so I could wash the delicate skin between her thighs. “You want to start a family once this is over, right?”
“You know I do,” she replied with a shudder as my hand brushed her sensitive clit.
Leaning forward, I kissed the skin below her belly button. “Then we’d better have a house ready when it happens.”
I’d barely risen to my feet again when her hand slid between my thighs, gliding slick and soapy over my skin.
“Not so easy to hold a conversation now, is it?” she joked, kissing my chin.
“You sure we don’t have time?” I asked, letting my head fall back.
“We do not,” she confirmed, her hand circling my cock.
“You’re a terror,” I complained as she let me go and stepped out of the spray so I could rinse off.
“You love me anyway.” She stepped out of the shower and started drying off. “So do you think you want a one-story house or two?”
I laughed and shut the shower off. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.”
“I’d like a castle,” she said, scrubbing the towel over her head. “We can afford that, right?”
“I think a castle might be a little more conspicuous than Gary would like.”
“Ah, so you do have an opinion,” she teased.
“Menace.”
It took a lot less time for me to get ready than it did Rosemary, so when I was dressed, I headed downstairs to help set up.
Rosemary may have been healed enough to carry tables and chairs around the house, but that didn’t mean she needed to if I was there.
The house was a hive of activity when I reached the ground floor, and from what I could tell, all the tables and chairs had already been set up in the living area.
“Nephew,” my Aunt Helen greeted, crossing the room to meet me.
“Hey, when did you get here?” I asked, leaning into her hug.
“We flew in this morning. Couldn’t miss the party. Now, where is your mate?”
“Ah, I see how it is,” I joked. “You’re here for Rosemary.”
“Beautiful name,” she said with a smile.
“Beautiful woman,” I added.
“I’m so pleased for you. Beau and Ambrose too.”
“Rosemary’s still getting ready. I just came down to see if you guys needed any help.”
“I think everything is prepared,” Aunt Helen said, gesturing at the tablecloth-covered tables. “Your mother has been up for hours.”
“Figures.”
“Daniel Boucher,” Rosemary called from the top of the stairs. “I know what you’re doing!”
I laughed as the sound of her feet pounded down the stairs.
“What?” I asked, turning to meet her. “I was ready, so I got out of your hair.”
Rosemary looked around the room, her mouth slack. “They’re already done?”
“Looks like it.”
“You shouldn’t have kept me in bed so long,” she scolded.
“Baby,” I cut in before she said anything else. “Come meet my Aunt Helen.”
“Aw, shit,” she said under her breath as she started toward us.
Aunt Helen made a sound of amusement in her throat.
“Auntie, this is my mate, Rosemary. Rosemary, my aunt.”
“It’s really nice to meet you,” Rosemary said, shooting me a look before smiling warmly at my aunt and offering her hand. “I didn’t realize anyone was here yet.”
“Rosemary,” Aunt Helen greeted. She clasped Rosemary’s hand and held it. “It is very nice to meet you.”
The scar on Rosemary’s face was very noticeable.
I knew that intellectually. But over the past few weeks, I’d started not to even notice it when I looked at her.
It was just part of her face, like the freckle on her chin or the little dip in the bridge of her nose or the dimple on her opposite cheek.
When the bandage had finally come off and the stitches were out, my mate had stood for a long time looking at herself in the mirror.
It was as if she’d been memorizing this new face she’d been given.
But after that, she barely mentioned it.
There was no self-consciousness, no worry about how it looked.
I’d noticed that because she didn’t seem to care that it was there, no one else really looked at it either—and I’d been watching everyone we encountered like a hawk, ready to step in.
We’d been around the same people for so long, people who knew Rosemary, that I was unprepared when Aunt Helen lifted a single finger to Rosemary’s cheek and brushed just below the scar.
“You’re lovely,” she said simply. “You wear it well.”
“Um…thank you,” Rosemary said, glancing at me.
“Not all of us get to show our scars off so proudly,” Aunt Helen said, dropping her hand. She smiled at Rosemary. “But be careful. You’ll no longer have the element of surprise when you wear a warrior’s mark on your cheek.”
She let go of Rosemary’s hand and patted my back before walking away.
“What the fuck was that?” Rosemary whispered, staring at my aunt’s back.
“Uh…apparently, you’re a warrior?”