“So wet for me,” he whispers, and I flush, loving the way he sounds—proud, possessive, awed. He circles my clit, slow at first, until my breath grows ragged and my hands fist in the sheets.
“Simon, please—”
He doesn’t need more. He kneels between my thighs, pushing them apart with infinite care, and lowers his mouth, tongue hot and slow as he laps at me.
I cry out, hips rocking despite myself, every stroke of his tongue sending lightning through my veins. He eats me until I’m begging, the pleasure relentless, unstoppable.
When I come, I shatter—clenching around his fingers, sobbing his name, overwhelmed by the power of his devotion. He holds me through it, never letting me drift too far, his mouth and hands gentle as the tremors fade.
He rises over me, shedding his clothes quickly but never breaking the connection. He kisses me hard, letting me taste myself on his lips, letting me feel his need pressed hard and insistent against my hip.
I reach for him, guiding his cock to me, and he enters slowly, inch by inch, pausing to check my eyes for any sign of discomfort.
There is none—only joy, only the dizzying fullness of him stretching me, filling me, anchoring me in a way that makes me feel more alive than I ever have before. We move together, unhurried, every thrust a promise, every kiss a vow. He worships me with words and hands and mouth, telling me I’m beautiful, precious, his.
I feel everything I used to suppress—need, love, fear, longing—crashing through me, sharp and blinding. Simon’s hands never leave my body, stroking my belly, cradling my face, thumb tracing away tears I didn’t know I’d shed. The pleasure builds slowly, unbearably, until I break again, clinging to him, sobbing with the force of it.
He follows, groaning my name, spilling inside me, burying his face in my neck. We stay locked together, panting, trembling, utterly undone.
After, Simon pulls me into his arms, settling my head on his chest. His hand covers my stomach, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles.
“You’re everything,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion. “My wife. My heart. My home.”
I press a kiss to his chest, tears slipping down my cheeks, happiness too big for words. “I love you, Simon.”
It hits me as I lie draped across Simon’s chest, the air still thick with the remnants of pleasure, our legs tangled beneath the sheets.
This marriage is more than survival, more than the intensity of his hands on my skin or the heat that crackles between us. It’s deeper—a devotion shaped by battles fought side by side, trust hard-won and never taken for granted.
We’re not just lovers, not just protector and protected. We’re partners, hearts bound in ways the world outside these walls could never understand.
Simon’s breath is slow and steady beneath my cheek, his hand covering mine where it rests over my belly. I feel his thumb tracing slow circles, anchoring us both. The baby shifts—a soft reminder of everything we’ve created, everything we still have to fight for.
He breaks the silence, voice low and certain. “You know I’d burn the world for you, Eden. For both of you.”
I smile, pressing a kiss to his sternum. “I don’t want the world burned, Simon. Just you, just this. Us, safe together.”
He shifts, rolling us so we’re face-to-face, foreheads touching. His eyes are so open now, all those old walls strippedaway. “I never thought I could have this. A real life. A real family.”
“You can. You do.” I brush my fingers along his jaw, soft and reverent. “We’re not perfect, Simon. We’re scarred. But we’re strong.”
He laughs, the sound soft and breathless, more joy than I’ve ever heard from him. “You’re stronger than you know.”
We lay there, the world narrowing to the quiet intimacy of the bedroom—the steady thump of his heart, the warmth of his arms, the hope curling bright in my chest.
“I’m not afraid anymore,” I whisper. “Not of loving you. Not of this life.”
Simon’s hand covers mine, firm and steady. “We face everything together, Eden. You’re never alone. Not ever again.”
I close my eyes, letting the truth of it settle deep inside me. In this partnership—this marriage—I am whole. We are whole. And no matter what waits for us outside these walls, I know, with Simon beside me, we’ll endure. We’ll thrive. We’ll love—fiercely, endlessly, together.
***
The world is still a gentle, early gray when I wake, light just beginning to filter through the curtains.
For a moment, I lie perfectly still, Simon’s arm heavy across my waist, his breath warm at the back of my neck. I’d give anything to stay in this softness forever, but my body has other plans.
Nausea bubbles up, sharp and familiar. I slip carefully from beneath Simon’s arm, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as I go. He stirs, but doesn’t wake, just pulls the pillow closer in my absence.
