Epilogue
Where vows hold fast and love triumphs.
Two years later
In the dusky moments before dawn, Dom dreamed of fire.
Not the smoke and ruin of his past, but the golden flicker of a hearth, warmth licking at his skin, drawing him deeper into arousal.
He shifted with a groan, half aware of her coiling around him, insistent.
Fingertips trailed down his chest, light as sparks, in a teasing caress.
He stirred, the dream blurring into sensation, into reality.
The silk of her hair across his shoulder, the familiar tickle of her lips at his throat, her breasts a glorious weight against his arm. Louisa.
Her hand slipped lower, waking him not with words but with the sure, sinful move of her palm closing around him. He sucked in a breath, eyes opening to the sight of her smiling at him in the dim light, wicked and beautiful. His.
“What you do to me,” he rasped, his voice rough with sleep as her grip tightened, stroking him awake. “I cannot fathom.”
She only laughed softly, lowering her mouth to his, swallowing his moan as she swung her leg over his hips to climb atop him. Aware of exactly what she did to him, she continued to work him into a frenzy until, in the last seconds before his release, sinking down upon his shaft.
These fast and furious exchanges were new.
Passion on the run, he’d come to adoringly think of them.
Covert lovemaking with their four-month-old son sleeping in his bassinet in the corner, their efforts at speed and silence spinning out the excitement.
There were unhurried occasions, too, but these frantic instants when she gasped in his ear, nails biting into his skin, lips at his jaw, his temple, undid him in the most astounding way.
He’d never imagined craving someone this passionately, in bed and out of it.
“I’m close,” he whispered, fingers tangling in the glorious streamers of her hair, bringing her back into a kiss meant to pull her with him.
Responding, she increased the tempo, sliding from tip to base, slick, hot friction driving him wild. He arched his back, hips rising, understanding this campaign called for prompt measures. Her sex was swollen beneath his fingers, and he only had to circle once, twice, before pleasure consumed her.
Consumed them both.
Seconds later, Louisa collapsed against his chest, her breath coming in ragged little gasps that matched his own.
He wrapped his arms around her, unwilling to let her shift away even an inch.
The room was quiet save for the tick of the mantel clock and the faint crackle of dying embers in the hearth.
And, lightly, if he strained to hear it, the baby-breaths of his son.
Dom pressed his lips to her brow, a reverent whisper over her skin. “This—” His voice caught, thick with wonder. “This is everything. You, Andrew…it’s simply everything.”
“He’s sleeping.” She snuggled closer, her cheek pressed to the hollow of his throat. “Five hours this time. I’m so happy I can’t think straight.”
“If this is how you repay me for getting up with him last night, I shall do it again. And again,” he murmured, his vision still spotty from a rather remarkably quick orgasm.
Sometime this century, his heartbeat was assuredly going to return to a normal rhythm.
“Although I’m fairly certain I’d collapse if I tried to stand. You may be the death of me, wife.”
She laughed and traced a teasing circle on his hip. “Like the last time, you mean?”
“I tripped over your misplaced slipper, darling Lou. And that was before my release, not after.”
She shrugged a slim shoulder, knocking his chin. “Well, we finished on the floor of my dressing room, which was wonderful in itself.”
Dom pressed his palm over hers where it rested at his heart. “I love you, Lou. You, Andrew, Rocket, and whatever else the future brings. That’s it for me, you’re all I need.”
Her emerald eyes glistened as she lifted her face to his. “I love you, Dominic. More than chemistry, even.”
He rolled Louisa to her back, looming over her. “More than pyrotechnics? Me?”
She grinned, tugging him down for a kiss. “Much, much more.”