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“Answer me,” he said, licking her again.
She jerked and shuddered. “Lachlan...”
“I said answer me, dammit. How did you think you could live your whole life without passion like this?”
“Because it didn’t matter.” The words came out a sob. “It didn’t matter until you.”
He growled and propelled her backward, to the edge of the bed, jerking the lace down completely off and spreading her thighs, using his shoulders to hold her wide for him as he gripped her ass and ate at her ravenously.
It didn’t matter until you.
He mattered.
Him.
He was the reason she wanted this. He was the reason she was this way. It could never have been another man.
It was improbable, and he didn’t deserve it. But he hadn’t deserved to be born a boy whom his father hated on sight.
So if there was any kind of magic, anything at all, that made a person look at him and just feel something, this seemed fair. Because he had been hated. Just for breathing.
To be wanted all the same, just forbeing, to be wanted by her... It was magic. A damned miracle.
And he was going to claim it. For all that it was. All that it could be.
She wanted him. Just because.
They had met each other, and it had been inevitable. In that forest they had seen each other, and they had mattered to each other.
In this whole shit show that was life, that was the closest thing to magic that existed.
It amazed him. That she was his wife. That he was here. That yeah, all this shit had happened in his life, but there was this glittering gold piece of perfection, and it was her.
Hell, yeah, it was her.
He tasted her, gorging himself on her until she screamed. Until she was writhing against his mouth, bucking up off the mattress, her fingers threading through his hair.
“Want me,” he growled. He kissed her hip bone and moved up her body, looking into her eyes. “Want me.”
“I do,” she said.
“Only me.”
“I said that. Only you. It’s only you.”
“Good,” he said.
He growled, thrusting deep inside her, his desire blocking out everything else.
There was nothing but them. This moment. They might as well have been the same flesh. The same person. Where they melded into one another and nothing mattered but that moment. Not the past. Not the future. It was just them. Lachlan and Charity.
Husband and wife.
He shuddered, his need rising up inside him like a tide. But no. He wouldn’t let this end that quick. He wanted to make her come again.
He growled as much, against her mouth, her neck, desperate for release. Desperate for her.
“Lachlan,” she said, the words broken.
