“There.” He held her hips, guiding her movements with a rough voice. “Right there.”
“Dominic.” His name came out broken and desperate.
“I have you.” He thrust up, gentle yet relentless, his hands steadying her. “I have you.”
The pleasure built, coiling tight in her belly.
“I am close.” She gasped, her rhythm faltering as her thighs began to tremble.
“Look at me.” He tilted her chin down with one hand, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Look at me when you come.”
She met his gaze, grey and dark and full of love.
“Say it.” He thrust deeper, a jagged catch in his throat. “Say it when you come.”
“I love you.” The words tore out of her, raw and uncontrolled. “I love you, I love...”
She shattered. The orgasm crashed through her in waves, her whole body shaking as her inner walls clenched around him. He followed her over the edge, a guttural groan of her name—both of her names—escaping as his hips jerked beneath her.
“Nell. Eleanor. God. I love you.” The words tore out of him, ragged and desperate, his forehead pressed to hers.
She collapsed against his chest, careful even now of his injuries, her whole body trembling with aftershocks. They breathed together, hearts pounding in tandem, bodies still joined.
“Did I hurt you?” The question was a faint breath against his skin, punctuated by a kiss to his collarbone.
“Yes.” He let out a breathless, broken laugh, his arms wrapping around her to pull her tight. “It was perfect.”
“You are impossible.” She nipped at his shoulder, smiling against the salt of his skin.
“You love it.” He stroked his hand down her spine, a gesture both possessive and tender.
“I do.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “God help me, I do.”
They lay tangled together, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped securely around her. Moonlight had shifted while they slept, shadows sliding across the ceiling, the fire reduced to ash in the grate.
“I meant what I said.” His words rumbled deep in his chest beneath her ear, his fingers tracing slow, absent patterns on her bare back.
“Which part?” She mirrored the motion on his chest, her fingertip following the familiar ridge of his scar.
“All of it.” His arm tightened, pulling her closer. “I love you. I want to marry you. I want to raise your children as my own.”
“We can’t talk about this now.” She curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, as if she could physically hold the solid press of his words at bay.
“Why not?” He caught her hand and held it there, directly over his heart.
“Because you’re injured,” she whispered, her fingertip tracing the edge of the bandage. “And exhausted. And possibly delirious.”
“I’ve never been more clearheaded in my life.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, his lips lingering on her knuckles.
“Dominic—” she began.
“I’m not asking for an answer.” He kissed her hair, warm lips brushing her temple. “Not tonight. Just… know that I meant it. Every word.”
Silence settled between them—comfortable now, safe.
“Eleanor,” he murmured after a long moment, his fingers still moving gently along her back.
“Hmm?” She was already drifting, warm and sated in his arms.
