by Gayle Eden
He drew back, thrusting in a cadence that had them both in the grip of erotic thrall. Her nails scored him. His hips circled and pleasured her, and amid raspy whispers, the pleasure built until Deme felt it explode in him. Shuddering, holding her, he said, “I love you.”
“I know.” She smoothed his damp back.
An hour later, washed and laying in the bed, they watched the firelight, their hands joined,
She rolled her head and studied his face, beautiful, with that muss of hair over his brow.
He sensed her stare and turned, his green eyes finding hers and probing.
“What is wrong?” Deme released her hand and leaned up on his elbow, reaching to smooth her hair back from her face.
“I think—we made a child. In York.”
His eyes widened at first, and then he smiled, a beautiful and blinding white smile. “The first time, do you think? All that sweet passion, made our child.” His hand moved to her stomach.
She grinned. “I believe so.”
“Oh, love.” He looked between laughter and tears, but leaned down and kissed her long and hard. Raising his head, Deme confessed gruffly, “I wondered what it would be like, you and I having a child.”
She cupped his cheek. “It will be a handful. A right handful, like its father.”
“Like its mother.” He laughed roughly.
Touching his lips, her eyes stilled. Haven said, “My father will be so happy. He will get to be a grandfather. Both of our father’s will.”
“I’ll be a good father, Haven. A good husband.”
“We’ll love our children, Deme. However, we will give them boundaries. Freedom, love, but a strong sense of who they are.”
“Children, are we having more than one?” His brow cocked on a grin.
“We’ll see. But God willing, I’d like a few.”
“I’ll enjoy making them.” He laughed. “Every one, in passion.”
He settled down. His hand smoothed up her hip and side. They faced each other, trying to look into a future as man and wife, with children they had made.
“I have a ravenous urge to be inside of you—right now.” He confessed roughly.
She took his hand and eased it where she was damp and ready.
He rose and slid her to the edge of the bed, moving between her legs and filling her deep, sure, firm. It was silent, primal, and possessive. Nevertheless, Haven knew what he was feeling. Just as he needed to claim her, to lose himself inside her, she needed to be claimed. He is beautiful. She thought. She is all passion and fire, he mused. And they were. Each, to each other. The sex, the emotion, the lust and love, it was more intoxicating than anything either had experienced.
“I love you.” They both whispered during and after the storm of loving. They both promised—it was only the beginning of their passion for each other, and their exciting new life.
The End
OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES:
Saving Juliette – Book One
Lisette – Book Three
