“Third,” he says, his hands wrapping around me luxuriously, reaching low down my back. “Iloveyou.” He lifts me into his arms and kisses me hard.
The kiss feels just like our first kiss. Claiming and searing, his tongue parting my lips at the seam and meeting mine in a passionate dance, his hands roving my body.
But then he breaks from it entirely too soon, leaving me gasping. “This is how badly I want you, but tonight, I’m not going to take you like this. Tonight, I’m going to take my time. We’ve been in such a rush since the beginning. Every time we’ve been together, it’s like we knew our time together was stolen. Like we knew it could slip away from us at any moment, and all we had to hold on to were a few fleeting moments of happiness before the walls came closing in. But now, my darling.” He tucks my hair behind my ears. “Now, my beautiful, sweet love. You aremine.
“All I’ve wanted since we met is the time to be with you, to get to know you, to explore every part of you, every inch.” His hands trail up my spine and over my hips, exploring. “And tonight, I’mgoing to do it. I’m going to touch every inch of your body.” His hands drift lower, cupping my ass. “I’m going to taste every part of you.” He kisses my ear and then my neck, leaving a searing trail with his tongue. “I’m going to make love to you slowly, deeply, the way I’ve always wanted to.” He kisses my lips with agonizing softness, the barely there touch somehow igniting me even more than his claiming kiss had. “Tonight, I’m going to make you my wife.”
“I’m yours, Ronan,” I whisper. I run my hands through his hair and pull his face until it’s an inch from mine. “Take me.”
He carries me down the path to our cottage, handing me the torch to light the way and complete the ceremony as we wave goodbye to Typhon and Larus, the last of our guests remaining.
No one is surprised. This is how most weddings end. The good ones, at least.
Ronan carries me over the threshold and into the cottage. His heart is racing from the walk, but he lowers me to the ground slowly, committed to his plan of taking his time.
He takes the torch from me and lights the fire in the hearth. The fire flashes blue then red for a brief, heart-stopping moment before finally returning to the ordinary yellow.
“I wonder what Vayla was thinking with that thing. It’s so strange,” I say as he lowers the torch into a holder near the hearth. The torch seems to hum contentedly, the strange shadows it casts around the room barely noticeable now that our eyes have long since adjusted to it.
“Questions for later. Tonight, there’s only us.”.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Come here,” Ronan says. He’s standing by the hearth, the firelight catching on the trim of his doublet and the golden flecks in his eyes.
I had already been halfway into the bedroom, but I do as he says.
“I want to see you first.” He frees the veil from my hair, taking care not to tug on the dark strands where it tangled. Then he releases the pins that hold my braids, unraveling them with his fingers.
He sucks in a breath as my hair falls around my face, releasing the lilac scent of my soap with it. “Your hair,” he says, brushing a strand off my forehead. “This curl right here.” He twines it in his fingers. “It does something to me.”
“What does it do?” I ask, combing it forward to cover my breasts. I’m still in my dress, but with his height, he has a good view of my cleavage.
He smiles, adjusting his pants. “Oh, I think you know perfectly well.”
I reach up to brush my hand through his hair, and his face turns to meet my palm with a sigh at my touch. “I have to admit I like your hair too. Although I almost prefer it messy.”
“Sacrilege,” he says. “This hair is my entire personality. You may be my wife, but I won’t be insulted.”
“You only said that so you’d have an excuse to call me your wife.” I only say this for the exact same reason, thrilling at the word.
“Am I so transparent?”
“Like a pane of glass.”
“Alright then. What am I thinking right now?”
He’s touching me, so I can feel the desires of his body. “You want to rip this dress off of me, but you’re trying very hard to be patient, like you said. So you’ll settle for untying these laces.”
“That’s what I’m feeling but not what I’m thinking.”
I pout, and he brushes my lower lip with his fingertips. “See how infuriating it can be not knowing?”
“What are you thinking then?”
“I’m thinking there is nothing more beautiful in this world than you.” He reaches behind me, pulling me to him so he can untie my laces with me pressed to his chest. “I’m thinking how unbelievably lucky I am to be standing here. Holding you. Loving you.” He pulls the fabric apart and loosens it, lowering it to release my breasts. “I’m thinking of how badly I need you and praying you never get tired of me because I’m going to go on needing you until I draw my last breath.”
“Ronan,” I sigh as he runs his fingers over my skin. True to his word, he touches every inch of me as he removes my dress, his fingers gliding across my shoulders, my back, my hips. I step out of it as he kneels to the floor, removing the boots from my feet one at a time while I use his shoulder for balance. He runs his hands down my legs: the outside first and then the inside as he stands back up.
