Page 4 of Captive Bride

The sensation was overwhelming, the kind of pleasure that blurs your vision and makes your heart ache with its intensity. The world around us ceased to exist as we lost ourselves in each other, the boundaries between us dissolving until I wasn't sure where I ended and she began.

Her breathing grew shallow as pleasure coursed through her again, her body trembling against mine. My own climax was fast approaching, our bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire.

Then Adriana let out a cry, her body arching off me as pleasure coursed through her again. She tightened around me and I followed closely behind her, my release tearing through me like a thunderstorm.

Then Adriana let out a cry, her body arching off the bed as pleasure coursed through her again. She tightened around me and I followed closely behind her, my release tearing through me like a thunderstorm.

We stayed locked in each other's arms as our breathing gradually normalized. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, her touch as soothing as the soft cotton sheets beneath us.

“You’re amazing,” I whispered against her hair, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

A blush tinged her cheeks as she looked up at me. “You’re not so bad yourself, Callahan.”

I chuckled at that, the sound rumbling deep within my chest. "Why thank you, Mrs. Callahan."

She cocked her head for a second. “I still haven’t agreed to marry you.”

“Well, you should!” I said as she got off me.

Adriana gave an impish grin. "Maybe if you behave," she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"My behavior has always been impeccable," I retorted, feigning affront while drawing her back into my arms.

She laughed. “Okay. You keep telling yourself that.”

"I will," I challenged lightly, the laughter in her eyes tempting a smile onto my face. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, I watched as she rolled her eyes playfully. It was these moments I cherished, when the weight of our world seemed to lift and we could just be Tristan and Adriana - not the mafia prince and his queen, but two people irrevocably in love.

“You wear me out…” She yawned, nuzzling into my chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed and I felt her body relax against mine.

"That's the plan," I murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But you can’t sleep on me. There’s three of you and only one of me.”

She chuckled, eyes still closed. "That seems like a you problem," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Adriana..." I urged, trying not to laugh at her stubbornness.

“Mmm?" she hummed in response, her body melting into me.

“I actually can’t move with you on me. Like I can’t maneuver this chair.”

"Fine," she grumbled. There was a moment of hesitation before she reluctantly pushed herself off me, settling down beside me instead. "Happy?" she asked, her voice soft.

I watched her for a moment, taking in the sight of her, hair tousled and cheeks flushed from our lovemaking. Her dark eyesmet mine and there was a softness to them that caused my heart to flutter. "Always happy with you," I murmured, brushing my fingertips lightly over her cheek. She leaned into the touch, her eyes closing as she savored the gentle caress.

She smiled at me. “You’re not in pain, are you?”

“Oh, no,” I said, hoping she couldn’t tell it was a lie. “I’m fine.”

She studied me for a moment longer, her dark eyes taking in every inch of my face as if searching for any hint of the truth. "Okay," she finally said, though her tone made it clear she was far from convinced.

Gently, I reached up to smooth a thumb over the worry lines beginning to form on her forehead. "I promise, Ade," I reassured her.

It was a white lie – a harmless deceit I told to keep her from worrying. The pain had become my constant companion since the incident, a throbbing reminder of my new normal. But I was learning to live with it, to hide it beneath smiles and laughter.

Adriana was pregnant with twins. We had plenty to worry about.

“Okay,” I said. “So the nursery. No mafia shit. Just building stuff. How hard can it be, right?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, surveying all the boxes that were on the floor half-open. “Right,” she said. “How hard can it be?”