I cut him off with a kiss, smiling against his lips. “Yes, I do. I want you, Trent, and you’re my husband, so…”
His exhale was shaky and his hands slid along my sides with a tenderness that made my heart feel too full. “I love you. I love you, Charlotte. God, I love you.”
“Say it again,” I whispered.
He did, over and over as we undressed each other. I said it back every time, meaning it deeper and deeper, letting the words melt between our mouths and our fiery kisses. When there was finally nothing left between us, the broad tip of his cock pressed against my entrance and he shuddered, his pulse slamming under his throat as he stared down at me.
“You’re really sure about this?”
“Yes. You?”
The laugh that came out of him harsh and husky. “Are you really asking me that right now?”
I shivered when he pressed into me just a fraction, my eyes already begging to roll back into my head. “Of course, I am. It’s a risk we’re both taking. Not just me.”
“I’m clean,” he gritted out immediately, blinking rapidly like it hadn’t even occurred to him to mention it until now.
I smiled, even though everything in me wanted to just start moving. “I didn’t doubt it, but so am I.”
“I didn’t doubt it,” he echoed against my lips, inhaling a deep breath that made his chest expand against mine. “As for the other risk we’d be assuming, I’m ready.”
Tears jumped to my eyes, burning the backs of them. I nodded and pressed my heels into his ass to urge him inside. “So am I, Trent. Nothing would make me happier.”
He let out a noise that was part animal, part moan, then thrust into me hard but kissed me gently, the juxtaposition between joy and desperation in both of us fusing into a mix of slow, intentional loving and wild roughness.
Not rushed but urgent. The wet drag of him against my insides with nothing between us sent sparks through me from the very first moment, the heat of his shaft unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
“Fuck, Charlotte,” he groaned against my ear, his breathing choppy and his hands on my breasts as he flipped us over.
He pinched my nipples, his brow furrowed as he stared up at me. “That’s incredible.”
“Yep,” I agreed lamely, too far gone to stop moving or even to joke about riding him like the cowgirl I hoped to become.
Honestly, my insides were already on fire, pleasure coiling low and tightening every muscle in my core. Panting and halfway to seeing stars, I ground on top of him, moans spilling out me until he half sat up and pressed his lips to mine so he could swallow them instead.
Both of our movements became more frenzied, our breathing louder. My world narrowed until there was no more storm outside and nothing other than him. Then an orgasm crashed into me, cresting until it felt like I was flying.
Trent shuddered against me, his release a hot rush I could actually feel deep inside this time, and the sensation triggered a series of aftershocks so intense that I screamed. When it all finally quieted, warmth settled deep in my bones and Trent pulled me into his chest, holding me like he never planned to let go.
His hand traced slow patterns up and down my spine, his breath ghosting across the bare skin of my shoulder. “Are you good?”
“I’m perfect,” I whispered, my lips brushing his skin. “I love you.”
He tightened his arms around me. “I love you too, and I’m, uh, I’m going to need to do that again real soon.”
I chuckled, turning my head to tuck my face against his throat. “Yeah, me too. Five minutes?”
“Ten,” he countered jokingly as I breathed him in, letting the rise and fall of his chest calm something deep inside that had still been trembling.
We stayed like that, our limbs tangled together and with him still inside me, until my eyelids grew heavy and my heartbeat slowed. For the first time in my entire life, I wasn’t following a path someone else had laid out for me.
I was choosing my own and I was choosing him. As I drifted toward sleep, my thoughts flickered briefly to my mother. A soft, bittersweet ache filled my chest. It wasn’t sharp, more just an awareness of her absence in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I knew she would’ve been happy for me. Proud of me. Thrilled that I’d chosen love above status. So many times when I’d been a little girl, she’d told me that, above all else, even more important than being a Westwood, was being true to your heart.
My heart had led me here, to Trent’s arms and to a love that had chosen me back. A love that had fought for me, and as Trent whispered one last, sleepyI love youagainst my hair, I finally let myself believe I deserved it.
EPILOGUE
