"We definitely should."
The dryer hums behind us, a low, lazy rhythm that almost matches the beat of my heart.I have her pressed against the cool metal lip of the folding counter, one hand at the small of her back, the other steadying her ribs as I guide her down to lie flat.She’s still healing, and I won’t risk hurting her again.But gods, the way she looks up at me right now, eyes wide, mouth parted, reaching for me like she needs me more than breath, makes every instinct in me ache.
I lean over her, bracing on my elbows so I don’t crush her, and kiss her slow.Deep.Letting her taste what I can’t stop saying.
“I love you,” I murmur into her mouth.Again, because once will never be enough.Not with her.
She exhales like the words settle into her chest, right where they belong.Then she says it, soft and steady but demanding: “Show me.”
So I do.
My hands find the hem of her shirt and I drag it up with aching care.She lifts her arms for me, trusting, eyes never leaving mine.Every inch of skin I reveal, I touch.Lips first, then tongue.I trail slow kisses from her collarbone to her navel, reverent, grateful.Her body shifts beneath me, legs spreading without thought as I work the waistband of her leggings down, inch by inch, exposing the curves I’ve worshipped a hundred times but will never take for granted.
Her scar catches the light, pale, jagged, stark against smooth skin, and I pause.I lower my mouth to it and kiss it like an oath.Her breath shudders out of her, her fingers threading into my hair as I press my lips to that mark.The reminder of what she survived.Of why I’m lucky she’s still here.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper, voice rough.“Every scar.Every breath.”
She pulls me up, eyes glassy, and I slot my hips between her thighs, sliding one arm behind her back so I can keep pressure off her ribs.She’s soaked already, warm and soft and open for me, and when I ease inside her, slow and steady and deep, we both fall still.
God.
This is home.
She clutches my back, holds me in place like she needs a second to feel it too, that perfect click, the way our bodies just fit.Her breath catches, legs tightening around my waist.
“Move,” she whispers.“Please, Hades.”
My name in her mouth does something to me.I start to move, rolling my hips slow and deep, grinding into her like we have all the time in the world.Her head tips back, mouth falling open in a gasp.I watch the way her brows knit, the little tremble in her thighs, how her fingers slide up my arms to dig into my shoulders.
“Fuuuck.Just like that,” she moans, body arching.
This isn’t fucking.This is coming home.
She’s everywhere, around me, under me, her heat pulling me in and keeping me there.I drop kisses along her jaw, her throat, the curve of her breast.Her hands roam my back, nails scraping, urging me deeper.I thrust slow, then hard, then slow again, trying to give her everything she’s asking for.
“More,” she gasps.“I need more.”
So I give it to her.Every inch.Every thrust a promise, every kiss a vow.I feel her tightening around me, hips rocking up to meet mine, eyes fluttering as she climbs higher.
“You’re mine,” I breathe against her mouth.“Always.”
She comes with a cry, shaking apart beneath me, nails clawing my back as she gasps my name.That sound wrecks me.I chase her over the edge, thrusting deep and spilling into her with a groan, every muscle locked.
I tuck my face into her neck and just hold her.This is everything.
"Are we really doing this?Getting married?"
"Unless you changed your mind in the last ten minutes."
She smacks my chest lightly."Don't even joke about that."
"Never.You're stuck with me now, Angel."
"Good.Because I'm not going anywhere."
We stay here in comfortable silence, my hand tracing patterns on her bare hip.Outside, I can hear the faint sounds of the movie playing downstairs.Our kids, safe and happy.
"We should probably get dressed," Evangeline says eventually."Before one of them comes looking for us."
