Page 100 of Silence and Surrender

“Thank you,” I murmured eventually.

He shifted to look at me. “For what?”

“For waiting. For being patient. For making our first real time together so...”

“Perfect?” His smile was tender.

“Real,” I corrected. “This wasn’t just sex. This was...”

“Everything,” he finished. “This was everything.”

He kissed me again, soft and sweet, before pulling the covers over us both. Outside, cicadas sang in the garden and stars appeared in the Tuscan sky.

And then we started again.

Finally, we were both worn out.

“Sleep,” he whispered, tucking me closer. “Both of you. My babies. You’re mine, Isabella.”

I drifted off in his arms, feeling whole for the first time since the rescue. Since before, really. This was what making love should be…tender and healing and transformative.

Colton was right, like he was right about most things. This was what coming home felt like.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Colton

The dawn glazed Isabella’s skin, sunlight catching the curve of her shoulder where the sheet had slipped down. I’d been awake for an hour, just watching her sleep. Her dark hair spilled across my pillow, and one hand rested protectively over her stomach even in sleep. The morning light through the villa’s windows cast everything in warm amber tones, making the moment feel almost surreal.

The last few weeks played through my mind in vivid detail. The moment the doctor confirmed the baby was mine, relief and joy flooding through me, making my hands shake as I gripped the results. The drive home had been charged with anticipation, stealing glances at her while she read and re-read the paperwork. How she’d looked standing in our room at twilight, full of trust and desire as she beckoned me closer.

I remembered every second of our reconnection. The trembling in her hands as she first touched me, not from fear but from wanting. The soft gasps she made as I kissed down her throat. The way her back arched when I found sensitive spots. How she’d let me worship every inch of her, healing old wounds with new touches. But mostly I remembered her eyes—how they held mine as we moved together, showing me everything she felt. Everything she wanted. Everything she trusted me to give her.

Now in the quiet morning, evidence of our passion remained—slight marks on her breasts where I had gotten carried away, the shadow of stubble burn on her inner thighs from the long sessions my mouth spent between her legs. Hell, my own back still stung from the tracks her nails left. But these were badges of pleasure, so different from the marks of trauma that had once marred her skin.

She stirred slightly, mumbling something in French that sounded like “mon amour.” I couldn’t resist trailing my fingers down her spine, loving how her skin warmed under my touch. The sheet slipped lower, revealing more of her back, and I traced each vertebra with reverent worship.

“Mmm.” Her eyes fluttered open, finding mine. Deep chocolate brown, still soft with sleep. “You’re staring.”

“Can’t help it.” I leaned down to kiss her shoulder, tasting salt and sleep on her skin. “You’re beautiful in the morning light.”

She rolled to face me fully, and my breath caught. Sleep-tousled and soft, wearing nothing but sunlight and satisfaction. The changes pregnancy had brought to her body were subtle still, but I noticed them—the fuller curve of her breasts, the slight roundness low on her belly where our child grew. Motherhood already made her glow.

“What time is it?” She stretched languidly, making the sheet slip further.

“Early. The villa’s still quiet.” I traced patterns on her hip, remembering how it had felt to grip her there last night as she moved above me. “Allegra and Clara won’t be up for hours. Cooper is most likely in his office already, poring over his books.”

Her smile was lazy, content. “Good.” Another stretch, more deliberate this time. “Though some parts of me are delightfully sore.”

Heat flooded me at the memory…how she’d wrapped her legs around me, urging me deeper. How she’d raked her nails down my back when pleasure overwhelmed her. How she’d whispered my name like a prayer when she came apart in my arms. The marks she’d left still stung slightly, a reminder that this wasn’t a dream.

“No regrets?” I had to ask, even now.

She rose up on one elbow, letting the sheet fall away entirely. Morning light caught the few remaining bruises from her captivity, nearly faded now. “Only that we waited so long.” Her hand found my chest, touching everywhere she could. “Though maybe we needed the time. To heal. To trust. To be ready.”

I caught her hand, pressed it over my heart. “I’ve loved you since that night in my penthouse. Maybe before. Even when you drove me crazy questioning my methods.”

“When did you know for sure?” She shifted closer, pressing herself against my side. “That this was more than attraction?”

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