Chapter 31 #2
“I love you, Lena,” he said, his words warm against my cheek.
My heart beat for him, my blood singing for his touch.
“And I want a future with you, regardless of what that looks like. If you, Milo, and Bonnie are my whole family, that’ll be fine with me.
If you want kids, we’ll figure out a way to have them because that’s important to you, and what’s important to you matters to me.
If motherhood is your dream, then I want nothing more than to help you achieve that.
Whether you carry children or not doesn’t matter to me. ”
His lips hovered near mine, but I still had more questions. “Did you really mean what you said in the article about fostering?”
He pulled back enough to look me in the eye. “Yes. If that’s something you’d be interested in, we can talk about it. I think you’d make a wonderful mother, and I could only ever hope to be half the parent you are.”
“And you won’t mind raising kids that aren’t biologically yours?”
“Not at all, as long as you’re by my side through it all. Because what does legacy matter if you’re not surrounded by the people you care about most in the world?”
“I love you,” I whispered, sinking further into his arms. “And we’ll discuss the Bonnie of it all.”
He grinned at me like I’d just given him the best gift in the world. “Does this mean I’m getting another chance?”
“I think it does,” I said.
“Good,” he whispered. “I promise to spend the rest of my life loving you harder each day than I did the day before.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.” I pressed into the full heat of his embrace, forgiveness and relief and desire flooding me all at once.
He reached down, turning my tear-stained face to his.
I pressed up on my toes, closing the distance, and kissed him right there in front of the castle, with Bonnie and Milo trampling their way through the gardens.
Suddenly, Weston broke away and scooped me up.
I yelped, wrapping my arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”
He gave me a wicked grin and headed for the door. “I think it’s past time I carried my bride over the threshold.”
I rolled my eyes, tears clinging to my lashes, my heart beating out of control as I clung to him. In the front hall, I was overwhelmed with all the affection and tenderness radiating from him.
“Where would my wife like to go first?”
“How about you reintroduce me to your bedroom?” I said.
“Our bedroom,” he corrected, wasting no time sweeping us up the stairs. By the time he’d set me down on my feet, closing the door behind us, it felt like a fire was eating its way through me, all-consuming, demanding to be quenched.
“Touch me,” I pleaded, and he did, slowly stripping me out of my clothes and backing me toward the bed. As he shifted out of his own clothes, I spotted my wedding ring on the bedside table, right next to where he slept.
“It’s been waiting for you,” he said when he noticed me noticing it, his voice thick. I stared at him for a beat, naked and gorgeous in the soft afternoon light, and in that moment, I realized I’d never felt more at home.
I was back with Weston.
My Weston.
The man I would trust with my heart for the rest of my days. I picked up the ring and handed it to him, wiggling my hand for him to slide it on my finger.
“Back where it belongs,” Weston said, linking our hands as he pressed me against the bed.
I welcomed his warm weight as he kissed his way down my body, leaving soft trails that fanned the flames already blazing through me.
He caressed my skin slowly with the most content smile on his face, relearning curves that had been lonely in his absence.
As I stared down at him, a hand in his dark hair as his tongue flicked over my belly button, an ache began to pulse between my thighs.
My neediness intensified quickly, like throwing gasoline on a fire, and by the time he finally brushed his lips over my clit, I almost launched off the bed.
Weston laughed softly at my reaction. “Missed me?”
“Don’t get cocky,” I said, rolling my hips against his chin. I whined at the sensation, my eyelashes fluttering. I wanted him to unravel this desire inside me.
I wanted to belong to him again.
Weston returned to the space between my thighs, exploring thoroughly.
My fingers curled in his hair, desperate, and when I tugged gently, he latched onto my clit, licking and sucking in earnest. My mind went blank.
Whatever thoughts I’d had, whatever I’d been about to say, it all disappeared, replaced by a pulsing, pounding, throbbing need.
I pressed my head into the pillow, back arched off the bed as I moaned his name.
The orgasm took me quicker than I expected, leaving my entire body tingling.
My limbs were boneless on the bed. I could have sunk right through the mattress.
Weston climbed up my body, kissing his way across my breasts as I panted.
He cradled me from above, his weight keeping me grounded as I enjoyed the aftershocks of my pleasure.
When the beautiful daze started to clear, I reached between us for his cock. I wanted more. He groaned at the sensation, shifting onto his side to allow me better access.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, looking into my eyes.
“To be filled,” I said. “I just want you.”
“I want you more,” he said, leaning in to kiss me.
I bit my bottom lip, smiling at his words. “Not possible.”
“Aye,” he growled playfully. “Don’t argue with me, woman.”
“Get used to it, husband,” I replied, pulling him back on top of me. I could feel his cock, hard between my thighs, pressing against my entrance. “You’ve got a lifetime of this.”
“And I can’t bloody wait,” he said, sinking into my heat in one swift motion.
My eyes practically rolled back in my head at the stretch. God, I missed this.
Weston grunted as he moved, finding a rhythm that left me moaning into his ear. He alternated his thrusts with stroking his fingers over my clit, building up that frenzy inside me again. It was heat and need and desire all coiling around my spine like an elastic band.
Each thrust twisted it tighter.
Each whisper of my name stoked the fire.
“Fuck!” I cried out, seizing up as a second orgasm rocketed through me. Hard. It was so explosive all I could do was snap my hips up into his, chasing every last ounce of bliss that had turned my head fuzzy. Weston came a moment later, crying out as he managed a few more uncoordinated thrusts.
When he finally settled into my arms, his breath warm against my neck, I knew it was forever this time. I was his and he was mine, and this was all we needed—each other, Milo, Callum, Agnes, and the wonderful folks in Braeburn.
And sure, maybe even Bonnie.
Our perfectly imperfect little family.