Hyacinth nodded. “I do.”
She grasped for his arm, urging him closer, but she wanted his clothes off too. And he knew. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he shed his waistcoat, his shirt, his trousers. When he stood bare before her, she took him in, biting her lip, letting her gaze savor every inch of him that she’d imagined for so long.
“Please,” she whispered.
And he moved instantly. He climbed onto the bed, settling over her, holding himself above her. “What is it, love? I’ll give you anything. Tell me what you want.”
“Just you. It feels as if I’ve wanted you forever.”
He nodded and his eyes glittered in the flickering light of the fireplace at the edge of his room. “I want forever with you.” For a moment, he turned his gaze away and then looked at her again. “Say you’ll be mine tomorrow and every day after.”
“I’m yours, Tristan.” The words came quickly, easily, because they’d been true from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. “I love you,” she whispered because it was a secret she’d kept for months, and felt like such a fragile confession.
“And I love you.”
Hyacinth’s eyes widened.
“Why do you look surprised?” He chuckled as he rested against her, his hips bracketed between her thighs. Shifting slowly, she felt the hot, hard length of him slipping against her, sending ripples of pleasure through her veins. “Can you not feel how much I want you?” He bent his head and kissed the tip of her nose, the edge of her mouth, her chin. “Do you not suspect how much I adore you?”
It made no sense whatsoever, but she wanted to ask him how, why. When had he fallen as deeply as she had? As if some part of her wanted to test him, yet he was right.
She had him here, in her arms, their bodies almost one, and she let go of uncertainty and doubt. Let go of any thought but him, in this moment, here with her.
“Make me yours,” she said softly.
“Oh my Hyacinth,” he murmured as he lifted his hips and then eased closer, slowly filling her.
When she gasped, he stilled, and it was the last thing she wanted. She bucked up against him, and he let out a desperate groan.
It felt so right. He was hers, and she was his.
Burying his face against her neck where he kissed and laved her skin, he began to move in earnest, building a rhythm. Hyacinth let out breathy gasps, her hands tracing down his back, tugging at him, needing him closer.
On instinct, she lifted her legs, wrapped them around his waist. Wanting to be locked together in pleasure.
“You’re heaven,” he rasped against her skin. “Need you so much, love.”
“You have me,” she told him, then cried out when he circled his hips and she felt the tautness building in her again, drawing her higher. “Please, Tristan.”
“I have you, love,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “Come for me again,” he growled.
And she cried out as waves of pleasure washed over her, as he groaned and repeated her name over and over as he found his own release.
After, they lay together breathless, even after he settled onto his back, pulling Hyacinth against his chest, and then lifting the coverlet over both of them.
For a long while, he traced his fingers along her back in dizzyingly delicious patterns that almost pulled her under into sleep. But she could sense his desire to say something he was holding back.
Finally, his voice rough and deep, he asked, “So you will marry me? I did hear a yes earlier.”
Hyacinth smiled as she stroked her fingers through the dusting of hair on his chest. “Hmmm.”
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, now you’re reconsidering?”
“No.” She lifted her head so that she could look up at him. “I’ve wanted to be yours for a long time.”
“Mmm,” he said with a satisfied smile. “So you’ve said.”
“I read your papers.”
