Page 109 of Outcast’s Vow

And I moan. Because he’s doing this for me, and only me.

Baptiste doesn’t break eye contact. Neither do I.

He groans my name. I breathe his.

And we climax together.

And it’s like I’ve been rebuilt.

* * *

Afterward, as we lie together – him kissing my wrists – I say something that’s been bubbling up inside.

“You saved me, Baptiste.”

My husband stops. There’s a silence as he takes in my words.

He turns to my face. He takes my chin. He looks me dead in the eye.

“You didn’t need saving, Sylvie,” he says. “But I’ll still do it.”

41

SYLVIE

I wake to the weight of my husband’s intense gaze even before I flutter open my eyes. And when I do finally face the world, I see him staring at me from across the pillow, full of a dark tenderness beneath that ruggedly striking face inches away from mine.

It’s one hell of a way to wake up, that’s for sure.

Without saying a word, Baptiste’s hand slowly reaches out. He traces a finger along the side of my body’s curves all the way from my exposed neck down to the edge of my thigh.

And then he finally speaks.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

No Your Highness nickname. No teasing remark.

His voice penetrates deep within me, and it brings up last night. The passion. The heat.

I can’t believe I’m lying here, next to him. I can’t believe I possess this man’s last name. But I’m not a fool. There must be a catch. Somewhere.

Nothing’s ever this perfect.

Enjoy this moment, Sylvie.

“Good morning, my handsome husband.”

“You really are beautiful.”

He can’t stop, the poor man.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“You’re glowing.”

Now I blush.

“This isn’t like you, Baptiste. All these compliments? Where’s the sting? Where’s the display of dominance?”