Page 24 of Older Hotter Grumpier
“You’ll think it’s silly.”
I push my hand into her hair, mirroring how she’s holding me, and almost purr at how soft it is. Everything about her is made for me. Giving her my most serious look, I tell her, “I will never think anything about you or what you like is silly.”
And I consider it a success that she doesn’t hesitate this time. She does trust me, with this at least.
“It’s a romance. It ends happily ever after.”
“Would you like to do that?”
“Happily ever after?” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth and begins to shine in her eyes. A dawning realisation that this is real.
“You and me,” I confirm. “And there’s breeding, isn’t there? The coffee wanting to make little spoons with the cups.”
“Yes,” she says faintly.
“We could do that too.” I hold my breath.
“You said earlier…?” She makes a strangled sound. “Do you really want all those things you said about breeding your wife? If that wife was me?”
“Short of putting my whole heart, bleeding and beating, into your hands, Ella, I don’t know how to make it any clearer that I’m in this. A baby or twelve. A family. Us.”
But there’s still disbelief in her expression when I dip my head to look into her eyes.
“Okay, fine.” I huff out a breath. “I’ll say it. I don’t care that I’m too old for you—”
“—You’re not!” she protests.
I ignore her because I am, and we both know it.
“I want the whole thing, Ella. I want to fuck you sweet and hard and loving and rough. I want to pull your hair and slap your arse for being so delectably naughty. I want you by my side all night as well as in my office all day. I want to hear if you squeak when you come when you’re on my cock, or if it’s just when you’re touching yourself.
“When you need help of any kind, when you’re sad, or happy or excited, I want you to turn to me. I want to be the first person you think of when there’s a crisis or a celebration.
“Ella, I have been in love with you since we met.”
As I’ve said all this, realisation has dawned, sweet and light like a summer morning, on her face.
“You were so grumpy.” But she’s smiling and loops her hands around my neck. The movement pushes her breasts onto my chest, and I groan, even as my heart becomes an overfilled helium balloon. I might float away with happiness. I clutch at her.
“I couldn’t be nice to you. There was keeping myself closed off, and there was fucking you over the desk as I repeat that you’remine. There’s really no middle ground here.”
I roll my hips and hell, but this is good. She is going to feel like heaven.
She squirms against me. “I’ll take the second one.”
“Being mine.”
“I always was,” she admits sheepishly. “I’ve been head over heels for you from the first day.”
“Have you indeed?” I grin. The first full, genuine smile I think I’ve had for years. “Then I’d better get my future wife home and work on breeding her.”
9
RAFE
I ditch the painting next to the front door and tumble a giggling Ella—that’s the best sound in the world—into my arms.
“Rafe!” She hooks her hands at the back of my neck as I carry her bridal style through my house and kick open the door to my bedroom.
