Page 61 of Outcast’s Vow

“You are everything I need, wife.”

I sigh into his words as they vibrate in my chest, and I let him completely take over.

I feel him slide on protection.

“Yes,” I whimper. “Yes.”

And then, with me finally surrendering to him, he drives into me. Another moan from me as he pushes me further against the wall.

“Sylvie.”

The mere thunder of my name through his lips sends heat hurtling through me. His grip is so tight. I could go limp, and he’d have me in his arms. I close my eyes and let go. I’ve resisted this for so long. I’ve resisted what was always coming.

Why did I deny myself this?

And just as the climax swiftly approaches, my husband stops.

“Lie on the bed,” he snarls. “I want to look you in the eyes when I finish.”

Taking a needed lungful of air, I collapse on the bed, gazing up at my feverish husband as Baptiste pulls off his jacket, letting it fall to the ground without a second’s thought, and rips open his shirt. His abs glisten with sweat.

“Look at you, woman,” he sighs. “You’re fucking perfect.”

This is the man who burst through the door and was ready to kill for me, and who is now becoming undone by the sight of me.

“If I’m your prize,” I say, “then claim me.”

No more needs to be said. He leans down over me, his hands fixing mine against the sheets. My eyes urge him even closer.

And then Baptiste fucks me. Hard. Fast.

His.

My lips part. My chest heaves.

“Don’t stop,” I mumble, barely keeping my eyes open. “Please don’t stop.”

“I never will,” he replies, sweat dripping down his neck. “Not for you. Not when you look like this. Not when you can do this to me.”

“Oh, Baptiste.”

He buries his face into my neck, exertion rolling off him. He grunts and twists as he finally surrenders all.

He pulls back, eyes locking onto mine, and he waits for one last gasp from me. My gasp of permission.

“Baptiste.”

And then, like a rolling clap of thunder, we both climax.

Our shared moment is all-consuming. Baptiste roars my name, his promise of finishing while looking into my eyes fulfilled. I tremble under him, unable to stop my legs from shaking. We breathe in deep, incapable of doing anything else. The moment seems to last forever. I expect him to pull away, but instead, he continues to pin me down. I don’t resist. I let him stay there.

A beat.

And then he kisses me. His lips meet mine, and I am grateful for it. This isn’t the fighting kiss from earlier. This is slow. Meaningful.

A kiss a husband gives his wife.

He finally lets go and collapses down beside me. He closes his eyes, one hand lazily running through my hair, the other on his heaving chest.