43. Home – Elias
Home
ELIAS
The cottage door had just shut when I pressed Rosemary against its solid oak panels, my lips finding hers with a hunger that had grown through endless council meetings and formal discussions.
Her taste was like wine after weeks of water, sunlight after a long winter, and I felt a tightness in my chest begin to unwind.
She melted against me, her grip on my shirt reflecting the same longing I felt. Her deep green silk gown, stunning at the council meeting and complementing her golden hair, was all but forgotten. I only wanted to strip away the layers, to see her true self beneath the polished courtly exterior.
"Finally," she breathed against my lips, the word carrying relief and desire in equal measure.
"I thought that meeting would never end.
All those voices, all those decisions, all those eyes watching our every move.
" Her fingers began working at the laces of my doublet with practiced efficiency.
"I've been thinking about this, about you, about getting you home to our bed, since the moment that tedious old lord began his speech about tax levies. "
The admission sent fire racing through my veins, pooling low in my belly as her clever fingers found the ties that held my clothing together.
"Who says we need to make it to the bed?
" I asked, my voice rougher than I'd intended.
The need for her was a living thing now, clawing at my restraint with increasing desperation.
She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, and I could see the heat there, the flush that had spread across her cheeks and down her throat. "Here?" she asked, but there was anticipation rather than hesitation in her voice.
"Here," I confirmed, my hands already working at the intricate fastenings of her gown. "Against this door, in this cottage we built with our own hands, in the life we chose for ourselves."
The silk pooled at her feet like spilled moonlight, leaving her gloriously bare in the soft glow of the fire.
Her skin glowed in the amber light, every curve painted in gold and shadow.
She was beautiful beyond words, but more importantly, she was mine, not in ownership, but in the profound sense of two souls finding their perfect match.
"You're staring," she said, but there was no self-consciousness in her voice, only the confidence of a woman who knew herself beloved.
"I can't help it," I replied honestly, my hands skimming over her sides with reverent appreciation.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Not just your body, though that's perfect beyond my ability to describe, but...
you. The way you move, the way you think, the way you choose compassion even when you have every right to choose cruelty. "
She reached for the laces of my trousers then, her touch deliberate and maddening. "These need to go," she said, her voice husky with need. "Now."
I helped her free me from the confining fabric, groaning as her warm hands wrapped around my already hard length.
The sensation was electric, shooting up my spine and making my vision blur at the edges.
Six months of shared nights hadn't dulled the impact of her touch; if anything, knowing exactly how to please each other had only intensified the pleasure.
"I love the way you say my name," she whispered, her thumb circling the sensitive head in a movement that made my knees nearly buckle. "Like it's a prayer."
"It is," I managed, my voice strained with the effort of holding onto my control. "You are."
I spun us around, lifting her easily so her legs could wrap around my waist. She was already warm and welcoming, and the feel of her against my stomach made me dizzy with need. We'd made love countless times since our reunion, but the hunger never lessened, the wonder never faded.
"Please," she gasped, grinding against me in a movement that sent sparks racing through every nerve. "I need you inside me, Elias. I need to feel you, all of you."
I positioned myself at her entrance, pausing for just a moment to savor the anticipation, the perfect rightness of this moment. Then I thrust up into her in one smooth motion, both of us crying out at the exquisite sensation of joining.
For a moment, I held still, letting her adjust, letting myself adjust to the overwhelming feeling of being buried in her welcoming heat. She was perfect around me, tight and warm and everything I'd ever dreamed of during the lonely years of our separation.
"Move," she demanded, her nails digging into my shoulders with delicious pressure. "Please, Elias, I need you to move."
I began to thrust, using the door for leverage as I drove into her again and again.
Each stroke sent pleasure cascading through both of us, and I could feel her inner walls beginning to flutter around me, drawing me deeper with each movement.
The sound of our bodies coming together filled the small space, accompanied by breathless moans and whispered endearments.
"Yes," she cried, her head falling back in abandon, exposing the long line of her throat to my hungry mouth. "Just like that. Harder."
I complied gladly, my thrusts becoming forceful, desperate.
I could feel her building toward release, could see the telltale flush spreading across her chest that meant she was close.
The knowledge that I was the one bringing her this pleasure, that she trusted me with her body and her heart and her healing soul, was almost enough to undo me completely.
"You feel so good," I groaned against the soft skin of her throat, tasting salt and sweetness and something uniquely her. "So perfect, like you were made for me."
"I was," she gasped, her legs tightening around my waist as if she could pull me impossibly deeper. "Only for you. Always for you."
She began to tighten around me as she teetered on the edge of climax. I reached between us, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex and circling it with careful pressure.
"Come for me, princess," I urged, my voice rough with need and love and desperate desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."
She shattered with a scream that I caught with my mouth, her body convulsing around me as waves of pleasure crashed over her.
The sensation of her inner walls clenching rhythmically around me was my undoing, and I followed her over the edge with a hoarse shout, spilling myself deep inside her as my own climax claimed me.
We stayed pressed against the door, both breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers as we slowly came back to ourselves. The cottage was quiet around us except for the soft crackling of the fire and the sound of our gradually slowing heartbeats.
"That was..." she started, her voice still breathless with satisfaction.
"Perfect," I finished, pressing soft kisses to her face, her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, anywhere I could reach. "You're perfect."
After several long moments, I carefully lowered her feet to the floor, though I kept my arms around her to steady her trembling legs. She looked up at me with soft, satisfied eyes, and my heart clenched with the overwhelming depth of my love for her.
"I love you," I said, cupping her face in my hands and marveling at the soft texture of her skin beneath my palms. "More than words could ever express, more than I ever thought it was possible to love another person."
"Show me," she whispered, her eyes already darkening with renewed desire despite our recent joining. "Take me to our bed and show me again."
I swept her up into my arms, carrying her through the cottage we'd made our sanctuary toward the bedroom where we'd learned to heal together.
The space was simple but warm, whitewashed walls, a large bed covered in quilts Rosemary had sewn herself, windows positioned to catch the morning light.
It was nothing like the opulent chambers we'd grown up in, but it was ours in a way those grand rooms never could have been.
I laid her down on the soft sheets with reverent care, then covered her body with mine, taking my time to reacquaint myself with every inch of her beloved form.
This time there was no urgency, no desperate need, just the slow, sweet exploration of two people who knew they had all the time in the world.
"We have all night," I murmured against her skin, my lips tracing patterns of devotion across her collarbone. "And I intend to use every moment of it worshipping you properly."
She smiled up at me, her hands tangling in my hair as she pulled me down for another kiss. "Then what are you waiting for?"
I showed her exactly what I was waiting for, taking my time to map every inch of her body with my hands and mouth.
I made love to her slowly, thoroughly, building her pleasure with patient deliberation until she was trembling beneath me and begging for release.
When I joined with her again, it was with infinite tenderness, each movement a declaration of love, each kiss a promise of forever.
We moved together in perfect harmony, two souls joined as one, building toward a crescendo that left us both shattered and whole at the same time. In the aftermath, as we lay tangled together in the moonlight streaming through our windows, I felt a peace I'd never known was possible.
"No crown," she murmured sleepily against my chest, her voice heavy with satisfaction and approaching sleep. "No throne. No royal duties or political obligations. Just this."
"Just this," I agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and breathing in the scent of her hair, vanilla and sunshine. "Just us."
As she drifted off to sleep in my arms, I held her close and marveled at the life we'd built together. We'd chosen love over duty, peace over power, simplicity over grandeur, and in doing so, we'd found something more precious than any kingdom could offer.
We'd found home.