Page 118 of Even Angels fall
She might be feisty and think she can do everything alone, but she still lets me take care of her.
I cross the center of the church, leaving my office door open, and climb the stairs to our room.
Softly, I deposit her on our bed and then go to the bathroom.
With a washcloth, I clean the mess I made of her gently, and from where she is on the bed, she looks at me with serene and hooded eyes that get my cock to attention again.
I don’t pay attention to it, though. I know I’m not the smallest man and that Angélique needs time to recover and she might look at me like she is all willing for round two, but she’ll probably hate me in the morning if I act on it right now. So instead, I throw the washcloth to the laundry bin and settle myself right behind her with my arm around her waist.
She snuggles against me, and I melt at her back.
This feels like heaven.
I fall asleep knowing I’m going to do anything in my power to make this permanent.
80
Angélique
When I wake up, I’m surrounded by comfortable warmth. Elhyor is wrapped around me as if he’s scared I could run away.
I’ve thought about it a few times to be honest—running away, I mean—since we got married, but every time something has been holding me back. It was his support against my father, the help he was willing to give to save Léandre without asking any questions, the fact we’re still trying to find Brice because of all of that, and yet he hasn’t even made Léandre feel like any of this was his fault. Plus, it’s the way he acts with me every day.
I know that he cares. I know that he wants to help and support me, but he knows I won’t bend—or maybe only over his desk—and that I’m a fighter. He doesn’t ask that I stay inside the archives with Cassiopé, where I would be safe. He let me be there in Versailles. He’s letting me help with the warriors’ training.
To him, I’m not just a weapon and it feels good.
It doesn’t hurt that I see stars when we have sex, either.
I kiss the hand that is currently holding my shoulder and slowly untangle myself from his embrace.
It feels good, but I can’t forget that a few hours ago, I was sweating like a pig on his desk and that there is only so much one can do with a washcloth.
I need a shower, one that is as warm as the embrace I just left, but that will also soothe my aching muscles.
I should be used to being sore with the amount of work out I’m used to doing, but no, it feels like I’m discovering new muscles each time I let Elhyor play with me.
I turn on the shower, slip out of Elhyor’s sweater before hiding it on the side, and then I slip under the warm water.
It doesn’t take long before the arms that were wrapped around me in bed do the same under the shower.
He doesn’t try anything else, though. He only grabs the shower gel and lathers me with it slowly. He takes his time like it’s something normal, and I can’t help the feeling that it would be nice to wake up every day this way.
Even if we actually only woke up from a nap and my belly is already crying for dinner.
Once we’re both showered and dressed again, he grabs my hand and pulls me after him. So, we go to the kitchen.
He bypasses everyone, and we end up inside the kitchen.
It’s a far cry from the last time we were there together.
First, this time we’re not alone, and even if everyone seems to have gotten used to the fact that I married Elhyor, there is no way to hide that some of his people still aren’t completely on board with our wedding.
I can see the sneer or the side glances in the kitchen, even if Elhyor doesn’t seem to see them or care about them at all.
The second thing that’s different is that Elhyor doesn’t seem to want to give up on my hand.
The last thing is the fact—and I’m a bit disappointed about that one—that I highly doubt Elhyor is about to cook for me this time. The cooks are here, and I don’t think they would take too well with him meddling with their pans and pots while they’re still using them.
