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I smiled. “So go do my biding, brother. Make some calls. Then relax. I’ll be home by morning.”
“Morning?”
“Time moves differently,” I reminded him. “Love you, Jess. Tell the others, too.”
Once we disconnected, I squeezed Eli’s hand and admitted, “I’m far too tired for debauchery, love.”
He raised my hand and kissed it. “So, we rest first. I have eternity, Geneviève. I can wait a few moments more.”
The following morning, waking inElphame, in our home there, I snuggled closer to Eli. My husband. It wasn’t what I’d planned, expected, or anything of the like, but I loved him in a way that really was mind-bending.
I traced the line of his ribs, marveling at the fact that we were here. He was a miracle to me. Beautiful in the way of the sort of art that ought to be protected by cameras and guards, but he was here, touchable and close.
I propped myself up and studied him. Muscles and flesh, lips that were full enough that they always looked freshly kissed.
I traced his mouth with my finger.
“Wife.” He opened his eyes and stared at me.
I moved so I was straddling him. I loved foreplay, and I loved Eli, but today, finally, I wanted one thing only. His hand came to hold my hip, squeezing my skin enough to bruise and drawing a whispered noise from my lips.
“I was going to ask if you felt rejuvenated . . .” Eli stared up at me. “But I think I have my answer.”
“And an invitation. Make love to me, husband.” I bent, covering his mouth and kissing him as he guided my descent onto him.
“Geneviève.”
His hips rose, and we moved together. Slow, steady, and never breaking the locked gaze between us. It was both the most direct and slowest thing we’d ever done, but it was exactly what I needed.
“Mine,” I whispered.
“As you are mine.”
Later, there would be time for things that were less gentle, but on this, our first act as a married couple, I wanted only the one thing we had been denied. Eli filled me, and together we chased bliss as a newly married couple.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In the morning—well,the morning many days later—I slipped out of bed after whispering to my drowsy spouse, “I’ll be right back.”
Eli opened his eyes. “I need to speak to my uncle.”
I nodded, and with a lighter spirit than I usually had, told him, “I’m going to work for a minute.”
At that, Eli chuckled. “And after work?”
“Oh, I have plans with my husband.” I kissed him, trying to resist the urge to crawl back into his arms. “My gorgeous”—kiss—“naked”—kiss—“husband.”
“Lucky man.” His hand traced up my thigh, and without thought, I parted my legs to give him more access.
Head thrown back in joy, I said nothing but his name, as he reminded me that everything he did was somehow exactly what I needed. Between tongue and hands, my husband had me quaking in mere moments.
“Miss me,” he ordered, as my knees gave out under the wave of pleasure. “Come home to me.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”
Somehow countless days locked in, barely leaving the bed, had only taken the edge off my need. I swore that touching Eli made me want more no matter how often I did so, but I needed to check in at home before we locked ourselves away longer.
So I backed away, and then Iflowedto the doorway.
