Page 62 of Conflagration
Permanent.
I’m not sure a word has ever sounded sweeter coming from her lips.
“And just for the record, I do want kids. One day,” she admits.
“One day,” I repeat. “Good. So do I, but only if you’re the one having them.”
I lift her up and pull the T-shirt off her before rising to my knees to remove her panties. She gasps as I settle back over her and line myself up with her entrance.
“Branson, your knee!” she exclaims, but nothing’s going to stop me from what I’m about to do.
Tonight, I don’t want to simply own her. I want to possess her, but not just her body. Even though I’m not sure I’m ready to say the words, I know I can show her. Cherish her. Love her.
And that’s what I do as I slowly slide into her. I give her all of me, and in return, I take. I take her body. I take her heart. I take all that she’s willing to give.
As I rock into her with slow, deliberate thrusts, I look down in to the eyes of the woman I love, the eyes of my future, the eyes of my forever, and I know I can’t keep it in any longer.
Taking hold of her hands, I entwine our fingers and lift her arms so our joined hands are above her head. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I lean down until we’re chest to chest. She moans as I slide out of her then slowly push back in until I’m seated in her fully, our pelvises connecting intimately. Stilling, I look down at her, knowing my life’s about to change.
“Baby, look at me,” I request.
Her eyes open slowly, still hooded and laced with pleasure. She sucks on her bottom lip then lets out a satisfied sigh, her hands squeezing mine. “Anyone who complains about this position being boring is clearly doing it wrong. It’s a good thing you want permanent, because if I had to live a future without you, I might as well become a nun. No other man could ever compare.”
I release one of her hands and bring mine down to stroke her cheek. “Hey, no talk of other men or convents when you’re in my bed. Or ever. I mean it, Ariana. I want permanent. Marriage, kids, all of it. Because…”
She smiles, a slow, satisfied smile, and I pause to capture this moment.
Letting out a deep breath, I know it’s now or never. “I love you. I’m in love with you, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Only you.”
Her hooded eyes widen, a small gasp escaping her lips. “Branson, I… Oh my God. Are you serious?”
My hand cups her cheek, my thumb rubbing against her skin as I look down at her. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. I know it seems soon, but I spent far too long wasting my life with someone I didn’t love. Now that I have you and I know how I feel, I don’t want to waste time questioning it or thinking it’s too soon. I don’t want to waste another second of my life without you knowing how much I love you.”
She swallows hard, her hand coming up to cover mine, tears glistening in her eyes. “Branson. I love you, too. So much. More than I ever thought possible. And I want a life with you. A future. Everything.”
She tightens her legs and pulls me down for a kiss, rocking her hips up into me. The room is silent—save for the sounds of our ragged breathing and passionate kisses, for the first time in my life, I make love to the woman who owns my heart.
I’m surrendering myself, surrendering my heart, and silently thanking God, the Universe, whoever the hell I can, for this second chance. I just pray that I don’t screw it up like I seem to do with everything else.
AFTER WHAT was probably the best night of my life, I slowly wake up, rolling over, ready to spend a lazy Sunday morning in bed with the man I love.
The man who loves me.
The thought sends jolt of giddiness through me, and it’s amazing how light—yet full—my heart feels. When I feel the bare, cool sheets next to me, I open my eyes and see that he’s not there. Glancing at the clock, I’m surprised to see that it’s past nine already, and for a moment, I curl up in the comforter, covering my mouth, and let out a little bit of a squeal.
As I stare up at the ceiling, I recall the entire night before, and I can’t believe how drastically my life’s changed in the past six weeks. I knew Branson had feelings for me; I just didn’t know thatheknew it. Never in a million years did I think my asking if he wants to have children would lead to him telling me that he loves me, that he wants marriage, that he wants kids. He wants all that—with me.
I let out a dreamy sigh, bringing my left hand up in front of my face, allowing myself to finally study the ring that no longer just represents a temporary fling. As I bite my lower lip to keep from squealing out loud again, I relish in the fact that this ring is now a symbol of our love. Even if we went about it in an entirely backwards way.
Suddenly, I sit up and get out of bed, wanting nothing more than to give the man I love a good morning kiss and figure out where we go from here.
After slipping on a T-shirt, I pad silently down the hall, expecting to see him when I enter the kitchen, but he’s not there. A fresh pot of coffee is evidence that he’s here somewhere, so I pour two mugs and head to his office, where I see him sitting behind his desk, his phone pressed up against his ear. He smiles when he sees me, gesturing for me to come in. As I set the mugs on his desk, he pats his lap, and I’m barely around the desk when he takes hold of my arm and pulls me into him, his free arm curling around my waist. I sit in silence as he finishes up the phone call. Then he turns to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Morning, baby,” he growls, nuzzling against my neck. I’m seriously getting used to this.
“Mmm, morning. That’s what I was missing when I woke up alone. I was hoping for a lazy day in bed, especially after such a late, eventful night.”
Branson lets out a throaty laugh, and it’s sexy as hell. “Baby, all we’ve done so far is be lazy in bed. Or on the couch. Or in the kitchen.”
