Page 131

That pulls him under.

He presses our bodies flush once more, pressing his forehead to mine. With a guttural groan, he buries himself deep, spilling inside me, hot spurts of his seed flooding me as waves of pleasure rip through him. We cling together, riding it out, my walls fluttering around him, drawing every last drop of his pleasure from him.

I feel his love in the tender way he holds me. Coming undone, and choosing to do it in my arms.

I keep him there. I keep him close.

I kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, the place beneath his ear where I can feel his pulse racing.

“I love you,” I whisper, and the words don’t feel frightening the way they once did. The feeling comes so naturally.

His face tips into my hair, and when he speaks his voice is wrecked, stripped bare as the rest of us.

“I’ve loved you longer than I had any right,” he says, the admission rolling off his tongue easily.

He pulls back to cup my cheeks. “Now, I am yers. Body, soul, name. I’ll keep you. I’ll choose you. I’ll stand between you and anything that tries to take you from me. And when I fail, because I’m only a mortal man, I’ll find a way to come back to you and make it right.”

My throat tightens, but I refuse to look away.

“And I will not run. Not from you. Not from this. I’ll be brave enough to let you love me, even when it terrifies me.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he breathes, like a benediction. “For you to stop runnin’.”

Then his mouth twitches, like he can’t hold the solemnity a second longer. One hand slides to my side, fingers finding that tender spot above my hip.

He gives it the smallest, wicked little tickle.

I squeak—an undignified sound I’d deny under oath—and my whole body jerks in his arms.

“James!” I gasp as I try to twist away.

“Aye,” he murmurs, grin breaking through at last, and he does it again, softer this time, as if he’s tasting my laughter the way he tasted my skin. “There she is.”

“Stop,” I manage, still laughing, breathless, against him.

“Never,” he teases.

“Not if it keeps ye right here,” he murmurs, “laughin’ and blushin’ and lookin’ at me like ye’ve nowhere else ye’d rather be.”

It warms something deep in my chest. He has wickedness in him, true, but it’s laced with tenderness. He wants my laughter as much as he wants my body, and somehow that’s what undoes me most.

I can’t help it.

I lean in and nip at his bottom lip once, a daring little bite meant to tease him.

The smile he gives me is pure trouble. The press of him shifts, unmistakable, and I feel the unmistakable length of him hardening again.

“James,” I murmur, a laugh on the edge, breathless and wanting, and uncertain I can go again so soon.

He answers by tightening his hold, his mouth brushing my jaw. “Aren’t you glad ye took me for yer husband this mornin’?”

I let out a small, shaky laugh, because I’m still astonished by how quickly a life can turn. How a single vow, a single choice, can open a door and make the entire world different on the other side.

My fingers trail over the nape of his neck before I tug him nearer.

“I’ll be thankful for the rest of my days that I took you, and that ye never relented. Lovin’ a man like you is the finest thing I think I’ll ever do,” I say, every syllable spoken with purpose.

His eyes grow the faintest bit hazy at that, and his throat works like he’s holding himself together. Then he kisses me, as if he means to keep that declaration forever.