“You just beat up a bunch of guys for me,” she whispered, swiping at a tear under her eye. “That’s a form of human courtship, you know. An old-fashioned one, but still.”
“It is?” I asked, my eyebrows sweeping up, trying to make light of the conversation now that she’d changed the topic. “Damn it, I could have just done that this entire time?”
My question had a little laugh escaping from her lips. “You already went above and beyond, even before this,” she told me. “But that level of courting usually comes with a long term commitment.”
“How long term?” I asked her, feeling the corner of my eyes twinkled as a grin spread across my face. Was my female saying what I thought she was saying?
“Aneternalkind of commitment,” she murmured. “That involves rings and ceremonies and moving in with each other.”
“Let’s do it today,” I whispered and she stared at me for a long moment before she released a peal of laughter, her tears transforming to ones of mirth.
“Always so eager,” she laughed. “But that’s not what I was saying.”
“Tell me what you mean,” I murmured, dying to hear what shemeant.
“You performed an act of human courtship today,” she whispered, staring up into my eyes. “And I think it’s time I try one with you too.”
“A human courtship ritual?” I echo, before pointing at myself. “For me?”
Emma nodded slowly, biting her lip before she peered up at me. “It’s... a gift.” She swallowed hard, and I watched trepidation enter her eyes. “My mom used to give my dad a gift for special occasions,” she whispered. “It was the same gift every time. It was something they started when he didn’t have anything. When they were just a poor couple struggling to make ends meet.”
She licked her lips, looking away for a second before meeting my gaze again, a sheen of tears appearing there. “And even afterward, when they had everything, this was the gift that she’d give him any time there was an important moment. And he treasured them as if they were worth a million dollars.” She gasped in a breath before reaching up to offer him something that she had taken out of the tiny pocket of her dress.
Peering down at it, my lips curled into a smile. In her palm was a tiny little rock. Almost a pebble. I lifted it, grinning down at it. “I love it.”
She bit her lip as she grinned, ducking her eyes. “My dad kept them in a jar. So that the fuller it got, the more happy moments they’d had together. I always thought...” she cleared her throat before continuing. “I always thought that I’d do that with my husband, too.”
My heart stopped in my chest at her words. “I can be that for you, Zemar. I’ll be the best husband in the world. I promise you.”
Her gaze flickered up to mine, soft and sweet. “I know,” she whispered. And I leaned down for a gentle kiss, barely pressing my lips to her.
“Thank you,” I murmured against her mouth, about to pullaway, but she wasn’t having it. She tugged me down harder, kissing me deeper and startling me hard enough I almost dropped the pebble. But I didn’t, gripping it tight before tucking it securely into my pocket.
I gathered her close, ensuring that my mate was as close to me as I could get her. “I love you,” I whispered to her and she nodded, eagerly, pressing kisses all over my face.
“Thank you,” she repeated, over and over again with each one. Then she was back to my lips with a murmured, “I love you too.”
I moved closer when she shifted her body toward me. I ran my palms over her hips, loving the feel of her under my fingers. My soft female was everything I wanted and needed.
I ran gentle fingers over her, skimming up and down her thigh, tracing her rib cage and then her spine. I felt her relax against me. She was drifting into the pleasure.
Her scent filled my nose and I knew she was becoming wet and pliant for me. A beautiful, deliciously hot thing in my hands. When her thigh brushed against my cock, I heard her breath hitch and I answered with a deep, low growl in the back of my throat.
“I want to taste you,” I groaned and when she nodded eagerly, I lifted her into my arms. “Point me in the direction of your bedroom.”
Amusement and arousal played in her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and her lips were parted. She wassofucking beautiful. “Upstairs,” she whispered against my ear before swiping her tongue over it.
Fuck me, she’ll be the death of me.
I pounded up the staircase, following her whispered instructions, barely able to see as my eyes rolled back in my head while she breathed in my ear, nibbling on my neck and shoulder. When we were finally in her bedroom—what felt like a lifetime later, I paused in the doorway, suddenly aware that Iwas stepping into a place that had belonged to my female before her life had changed abruptly.
I was glad to see that Adrian hadn’t touched this room. If he had, I would have found a way to punch him when he was in jail.
This feminine world that I was entering was one where even the air seemed to have manners. Emma’s bedroom was soft light and impossible order, a quiet kind of luxury that made me afraid to breathe too loudly. The walls were the color of old cream, glowing gently in the sun that filtered through gauzy curtains.
Everything shimmered faintly—the pale silk bedspread, the curve of a crystal lamp, the glass perfume bottles lined up on her vanity. It smelled like her—flowers and sweetness—the scent I’d fallen in love with the moment I’d caught it.
Her bed dominated the room, draped in fabric that looked too fine to touch, though I wanted to anyway. A few books were stacked beside it, perfectly aligned, just waiting to be read, and a single cardigan hung off the bedpost like it had been left there on purpose. Even her mess was elegant.
