"Always," I whisper back.
I roll her onto her back, settling between her thighs. She's already wet and I slide into her with a groan of pure relief. No matter how many times I have her, it always feels like coming home.
We move together slowly, savoring each other. There's no urgency, no desperation, just the slow build of pleasure, the connection of bodies that know each other intimately. I keep my eyes on hers, watching every flicker of sensation cross her face.
"I love you," I tell her, and the words feel inadequate for what I actually feel. "More than anything. More than everything."
"I love you too." She arches up to meet my thrusts, her hands sliding down my back. "My crazy, romantic, vineyard-buying husband."
I laugh against her throat. "My devious, scheme-within-a-scheme, drugged-me-with-my-own-sedative wife."
"We're quite a pair."
"We're perfect."
The orgasm builds slowly, like a tide coming in. We crest together, her cry mixing with my groan, our bodies shuddering in unison. It's not the explosive, earth-shattering climax of last night. It’s soft and joyful. It’s perfect.
Afterward, we lie tangled in the blankets, both of us spent in the best possible way. The morning light has grown stronger, filling the cellar with warmth. Outside, I can hear birds beginning to sing in the vineyard.
Our vineyard.
"So what do we do with all these acres of grapevines?" Seraphina asks, her head on my chest. "Do we actually have to learn how to make wine?"
"We could." I run my fingers through her hair. "Or we could hire someone to do the wine part and just use it as our private playground."
"A private playground." She says it like she’s already plotting. "For more elaborate scenarios?"
"Among other things." I press a kiss to her forehead. "But first, I think we need food. And coffee. And possibly a shower."
"In that order?"
"Coffee first.Alwayscoffee first."
She laughs and rolls out of the blankets, reaching for the silk robe she was wearing last night. I watch her move around the cellar, gathering our scattered clothes, looking utterly at home in this space.
This is what I wanted. This is what I was building toward with all my planning and scheming. Not just a fantasy or a scenario, but a life. A partnership with someone who matches me in every way that matters.
She catches me watching and raises an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing." I climb to my feet, pulling on my pants. "Just thinking about how lucky I am."
"Hmm." She gives me a mischievous smile, but doesn’t question me.
I pull her into my arms. "Happy Valentine's Day, love. Thank you for the best night of my life."
"It's not Valentine's Day anymore," she points out. "Pretty sure it's the fifteenth by now."
"Then happy February fifteenth." I kiss her softly. "And happy every day after that, for the rest of our lives."
She melts into me, and I hold her there in the morning light, surrounded by burned-down candles and deflated balloons and the evidence of the best Valentine's Day I've ever had.
We have a vineyard to explore. A cottage to renovate. A future to build.
But first:coffee.
EPILOGUE
SERAPHINA
