Chapter Thirteen #4
Reluctant, he moved, teasing, probing searching, until she cried out there.
So there he stroked. He watched, fascinated, as she tossed her head to the side, her eyes tightly closed.
“Look at me, beloved,” he said, needing to see her need.
Her lids parted halfway. She gazed down with unfocused eyes.
This is how he’d dreamt of seeing her—lips parted, breath short.
Holding her eyes, he lowered his mouth over her nipple and grazed the nub with his teeth.
She broke open with a shudder that passed through her body into his. A release so deep, so full, he was nearly satiated, too.
Nearly.
“Earthshattering?” he panted.
“Yes,” she said, breathing deep. “But…that wasn’t…?”
“Patience, beloved. I was just about to get to the thrusting now.”
“Oh?” She sighed. “I was hoping you would.”
Minx. Delilah. Heaven’s brightest angel.
She was all those things and more. He moved between her thighs, savoring the feeling of her smooth, hot inner legs against his hips.
“Do you think—”
Whatever she might have asked was lost in his first thrust. He didn’t feel the kind of virginal resistance he’d expected, but frequent riders like herself often broke that barrier. Lud, though, she squeezed him tight. Tight enough to send him into wordlessness.
Indescribable.
He’d used the word before. Of course he had vague memories of the act, but with Millie, he felt different, more connected. This was a moment to savor, a moment he’d never forget.
Still sheathed deeply inside of her, he paused to wipe the sheen from her face. “How are you, love?”
“Fine. Just… full.” She giggled. “Of you, apparently.”
Yes, she was.
The pressure around his member was slowly eased as she relaxed.
“Are we finished?”
“Not yet.”
Slowly, he slid out, and then back in. She closed her eyes and smiled a smile that would be forever burned in his brain.
“Auggie,” she breathed. “Oh, Auggie.”
The only thing he could see was his beloved. The only cry he could hear was his name. His mind flooded with joy, with rightness, and then he lost all sense of reason and control. A frisson jerked through him, leaving him quaking somewhere below.
To his surprise, she trembled too. A second little death, perhaps. Or the same sort of shared joy he’d taken in her pleasure.
He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was blissful. More blissful than he’d ever been. Her lazy closed-eyed smile widened. She looked as if she were blissful, too.
He withdrew, rolled onto his back, and gathered her in his arms.
“Now”—he kissed her wild, matted hair—“it’s over.”
“A shame,” she said on a long, satisfied exhale.
He grinned and shook his head. Not that he would have any trouble swiving, rogering, and grinding Millie every damn chance he got. Why the devil had he waited so long to get himself a wife? He closed his eyes.
Because any wife would not have done. He’d been waiting for the magic of Millie.
He wrapped his hand around the fist she’d curled against his chest.
I love you. Why did the words feel so impossible to say?
He didn’t really need to ask, because he knew the answer—if she didn’t say them back, he’d be crushed. He loved their lighthearted exchanges, but he knew she used them to keep him at a distance. She lapsed into humor the same way she’d lapsed into politeness when they’d first met.
“I’m glad.” Her words were slightly muffled by his pectoral muscle.
“Glad of what?”
“Glad you waited for—” She stopped. “For your wife.”
He knew that hesitation. He’d hesitated in the same place himself.
Dare he hope she might love him, too?
She sighed deeply, then, shifted and lifted her head. A slow, mischievous smile spread over her lips.
He raised a brow. “Dare I ask what you are thinking?”
She shrugged. “I was thinking I’ve always wanted my own stallion.”
He threw his arm over his eyes and groaned.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked, her tone teasingly innocent.
He shook his head. “Please don’t.”
She tried to move his elbow. “I’m teasing.”
“I know. And I will get used to your teasing. But tonight, have mercy, please.”
He was already thoroughly conquered. Wasn’t that enough?
She abandoned trying to move him and then trailed light fingers over his lips. “That was…perfect.”
He threw his arm to the side, fearing she still teased. But there was nothing in her eyes but sincerity.
He smiled a lazy, appreciative smile. “Yes.”
She grinned back at him. “Shall we get under the covers?”
“Would you like to put your shift back on first?”
She looked down, then back at him. “I don’t see why.”
He groaned a groan of sheer delight. “Neither do I.”
The work of a few moments had them warmly snuggled together, her head tucked against his shoulder. He wouldn’t mind falling asleep this way every night.
The only thing that marred the moment’s perfection was that she hadn’t mentioned love.
Then again, the linking of their lives, then of their bodies, had been quite enough for one day. Perhaps it was better that such an important declaration had not been lost in the confusion of everything else.
“Sleep,” she ordered.
He pressed his cheek to her hair. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.