Epilogue
One plus one equals three.
Amelia
Approximately six months later …
I stir beside Christian, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against mine. He’s still asleep, his chest rising and falling with slow, even breaths. I trace the lines of his face with my finger, memorizing every curve, every scar.
My husband isn’t a perfect man, but he’s perfect for me.
My husband . I’m still getting used to that.
We didn’t have a big ceremony or make a big deal out of getting married. We didn’t even tell our families before we did it.
It was just the two of us, Nova, Hadley, Chase and Lina.
We drove to the mountains in West Virginia, rented a small cabin, and eloped just weeks before our little angel was born. My parents were pissed. Mainly because I’m their only daughter. I get it. Dad wanted to walk me down the aisle.
But weddings are for the guests, not the bride and groom. This new life is about Christian and me. It’s important that we start it off for us—do what makes us happy—and no one else.
He stirs, his eyes flutter open. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.
I smile, leaning in to kiss him, a slow, lingering kiss that ignites a spark within me.
“Good morning,” I say as I roll over, pushing him over onto his back. I climb onto him and straddle his lap.
He lets out a visceral moan that vibrates through my entire body. “What time is it?”
“Early.” I giggle. “I want some before Chrissy wakes up.”
“Mmmm.” He squeezes my ass and presses me into his hardening cock. “That sounds so good.”
Having any intimate time together has been challenging since the baby was born. She takes up all our waking moments, and when she’s sleeping, we sleep too.
“It does, doesn’t it?” I reach between us and slip my hand under his boxers. His erection grows when I wrap my hand around it.
“Fuck, baby.” He moans. “Hurry up and stick me in.”
His crude bluntness makes me laugh. “So romantic.” I tease.
“Do you romance or a good fuck?”
“Promise me romance later, and I’ll take the fuck.” I lift off him and tug his boxers down enough that I can easily take him inside me. As much as I’d love to take our time and enjoy each other’s bodies, we’re probably lucky if we get ten minutes before Chrissy wakes up.
“Anything you want, angel.” He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times while I sit up on my knees. With his other hand, he reaches between us and cups my pussy.
“No panties.” He lifts a brow as he runs a finger between my legs and into my opening. “And you’re wet.”
“I told you,” I say with a moan. “I want some.”
“Then take it, baby.” He squeezes his cock once more and then holds it up so I can align it with my entrance. Then I slowly sink down onto him. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”
My head falls back, and I revel in how good he feels. Ever since Chrissy was born, I’ve been more sensitive and hornier. Maybe it’s because we don’t get to have sex as often, but I always come so quickly.
He fists his hands into my hips and lifts me up, stopping just before his tip leaves me.
“Ride me.” He commands.
I slam down onto him, crying out as he completely fills me. Moving fast, I rise and fall on him over and over, pushing myself closer to the edge. He thrusts up every time I slam down, increasing the intensity.
He reaches up and lifts my nightgown, slipping it over my head. Then he pushes up onto his hands and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth.
“So sweet and warm,” he says as he licks the drop of breast milk off. “Makes me want to suck them dry.”
“That’s not for you, sir.” I moan as he sucks again. This time harder than the first. I miss his mouth on me like this, but for the foreseeable future, these belong to our baby girl.
“It’s so hard to resist.”
He does the same to my other breast, giving them equal attention before he stops.
I wrap my arms around him, hold his face close to my chest, and I continue to ride him. “I’m close,” I say, my breath getting short.
“I know. I feel you tightening around me.” His hands dig into my ass, holding me closer to him as he takes control and thrusts into me. This creates friction between his skin and my clit, and my orgasm builds.
“So close.” My head falls back on a moan.
He increases his thrusts, his cock growing with each movement. He’s just as close as me.
“Angel, come. Right. Now.” The command is so visceral and guttural. My body responds in kind, and I cry out as my release washes over me with the fierceness of a veracious lion.
“Christian,” I cry out his name as he continues thrusting into me, prolonging my pleasure. I’m lost in the moment. All that exists is the two of us, connected through this blissful experience and love.
“Fuuuucckk.” He cries out, his voice hoarse and husky. His release hits us like a wrecking ball and we both succumb to pleasure.
When we finally come down from our releases, I’m surrounded by the muffled cries of our little one. It makes me chuckle.
“Did we wake her?” I ask.
Christian slaps my ass. “You woke her with your screams.”
I press on his chest, forcing him back down onto the bed. “Because you made me.”
I press my lips to his and roll off him to get up. He grabs me and pins me underneath him. Then he deepens the kiss, leaving me feeling breathless and ready for more.
“I’ll get her.”
I moan when he gets up. I know we have to take care of Chrissy, but I really don’t want to lose this moment. Maybe we’ll get lucky and get some time to ourselves again later.
“She probably wants to eat.” I prop myself up on my elbows and stare at him as he pulls his boxers back up. “You need me for that.”
He looks back at me and winks. My Christian winks. I’m still adjusting to this new version of him.
“I know,” he says. “But I’ll go comfort her while you clean up.”
I fall back onto the bed and sigh. “You’re a good man, sir.”
“I know!” he calls out, and the biggest smile covers my face.
The sunlight streams through the nursery window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. I watch Christian from the doorway, a smile blooming on my face.
He’s sitting in the rocking chair, our daughter, Chrissy, nestled in the crook of his arm. He’s humming a soft tune, gently rocking her back and forth, his eyes filled with a tenderness I never thought I’d see in him.
Just a few months ago, the thought of Christian holding a baby, let alone our baby, would have seemed like a fantasy. The Christian I met, the brooding mechanic with a chip on his shoulder—the man haunted by the shadows of the past—would never have held a child with such gentleness.
But that was then, and this is now.
He looks up, catching me watching him. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he lifts Chrissy so I can see her. Her eyes are still closed, but her tiny fingers are curled into fists, and her lips are forming a soft, sleepy smile.
“Look at her, Lia,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t believe I helped make this perfect little creature.”
Perfect is an understatement. She’s a miracle. A testament to our love and a symbol of the life we’ve built together. A life I never thought possible.
Our little Christina Grace saved our family. Not everyone was happy about our name choice, but they accepted it in the end. Christian’s family had a harder time accepting it than mine. Then again, their history with Christian’s mom was tainted whereas mine hardly knew her.
But naming our baby girl after his mother was important to me. Christian had the love and support of his family to save him from his battle with addiction. Christina didn’t. By naming our daughter after her, we’re giving new life to her memory. A life of love and support and undying dedication. Our baby girl will live the life she never got and bring happiness and joy to her memory.
I join Christian, carefully taking Chrissy from his arms. “She’s the most beautiful baby girl ever to exist.”
She snuggles into my chest, her tiny breaths soft against my skin. It’s an overwhelming feeling, this fierce, protective love that surges through me.
Christian pats his lap, adjusting so I can fit in the rocking chair with him. He’s my protector, as well as hers. As long as he’s in my life, I have nothing to fear.
“She looks like you,” he says, his voice filled with wonder.
I smile, tracing the delicate lines of our daughter’s face with my finger. “Maybe a little. But her eyes … they’re the color of yours.”
He leans down, his lips brushing against my hair. “She’s ours, Amelia. All ours.”
The words, simple yet profound, fill me with an overwhelming sense of peace. We’ve been through so much, Christian and I. It took a lot to get here, and most couples probably wouldn’t have made it.
We’ve overcome the feud between our families, the whispers and the doubts, the lingering shadows of the past, his addiction, and losing his mother. We’ve faced our fears, embraced our love, and built a life together.
As I hold Chrissy close, I know that this is just the beginning of our lives together. We have a lifetime of adventures ahead of us, a lifetime filled with love, joy, and the precious gift of family.
And in that moment, I know that despite all the challenges we’ve faced, we’ve truly found our way home.