Page 29 of The Beast's Captive Bride
"I saw a man choose love over hate. Mercy over vengeance. Me over everything else." I lean down, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his forehead. "How could I not love you for that? How could I ever leave?"
His breath releases in a shuddering exhale. His hand comes up to tangle in my hair, drawing me down for a proper kiss, heedless of his split lip. I taste copper and desperation and relief.
"Say it again," he murmurs against my mouth when we part. "Please."
"I love you." I kiss him between each word, gentle but insistent. "I love you, Cullen Blackwood. The man who kidnapped me and protected me. The beast who became my home."
A sound escapes him—something between a laugh and a groan—and he pulls me closer despite his injuries, burying his face against my neck. "I don't deserve you."
"You do," I insist, running my fingers through his hair, cradling his head against me. "You do, and I'll spend the rest of my life convincing you of it."
We stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other, the silence of the snow-covered world outside our cocoon. His breathing evens out, and I think he might have fallen asleep again until his lips press against my collarbone.
"I need you," he murmurs, and the hunger in his voice has nothing to do with food or drink.
I pull back slightly, concerned. "You're injured. The doctor said?—"
"I don't care what the doctor said." His eyes have cleared, darkening now with desire rather than pain. "I need to feel you. Need to know you're real. That this is real."
The naked vulnerability in his voice undoes me. How can I deny him when he looks at me like that? When my own body responds so immediately to his need?
"Let me," I whisper, understanding what he needs, what we both need. "Don't move. Let me take care of you."
He watches, eyes hooded, as I slip from the bed and undress slowly—not a tease, but a revelation. Each piece of clothing removed is another layer of armor shed, another step toward the complete vulnerability I want to show him.
When I'm naked, I carefully pull back the sheets covering him, mindful of his injuries. He's wearing only boxer briefs, his magnificent body mapped with bruises but still breathtaking in its power. Even wounded, he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I ease the briefs down his legs, my breath catching at the evidence of his desire for me. No matter how many times we've been together in the past weeks, the sight of him still fills me with awe—and a flutter of intimidation at his size.
"Amber," he groans as I straddle him carefully, positioning myself above him without putting pressure on his bruised ribs. "You don't have to?—"
"I want to," I interrupt, lowering myself slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. "I want you. Every part of you."
His hands come to my hips, steadying but not directing, letting me set the pace. I move slowly, reverently, watching his face for any sign of pain. There's only pleasure there, and something deeper—a wonder, a gratitude that breaks my heart and heals it all at once.
"Look at me," I whisper, and his eyes lock with mine as I begin to move in earnest. "See me. See us."
"I see you," he answers, voice rough with emotion and desire. "My wife. My heart."
The words push me closer to the edge. I lean down, careful of his ribs, and kiss him deeply as our bodies move together in the ancient rhythm we've perfected in our weeks together. His hands roam my back, my sides, cupping my breasts with exquisite gentleness.
"Mine," he murmurs against my lips, the possessiveness that once frightened me now a comfort, a certainty in an uncertain world. "All mine."
"Yours," I agree, the word catching on a gasp as he shifts slightly, hitting that spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. "Always yours."
We move together like that, slowly, deeply, a joining more profound than mere bodies. I feel him everywhere—in my blood, my bones, my soul. This man, this scarred and beautiful man who stole me from my life and gave me a better one in return.
"I love you," he says, the words still new on his tongue but gaining confidence each time. "God, Amber, I love you so much."
The declaration pushes me over the edge. I shatter around him, crying out his name as pleasure courses through me in waves. He follows immediately, his release triggered by mine, his hands gripping my hips as he spills himself deep inside me.
For long moments after, we remain joined, my forehead resting against his, our breathing slowly returning to normal. I can feel his heart beating against mine, strong and steady despite everything it's endured.
"Are you okay?" I ask eventually, worried about his injuries. "Did I hurt you?"
He laughs, a soft, genuine sound that warms me from within. "The opposite," he assures me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You've healed me."
I ease off him carefully, settling at his side with my head on his shoulder, my hand over his heart. Outside, thesnow continues to fall, erasing tracks, covering scars, making everything new.
