Page 85 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

"Shiloh," I exhale, the word fractured by the intensity of being enveloped by her warmth.

"Tell me," she urges, her voice laced with desire.

The fragmented sentences tumble out, barely coherent thoughts that have been swirling in my heart since we first met. "So much... I wanted to... say before."

My hands roam over her, reverent and hungry all at once. Her shoulders bear the weight of my touch, my fingers trailing down her spine like a prayer. The curve of her back is my altar, her softness under my palms more precious than anything I’ve ever known.

"Always loved you," I confess between thrusts, each word punctuated by my hips meeting hers. "Knew you were the one."

She pushes her hips back against me, her breath hitching, and the sensation of her breasts brushing against my hands is nearly my undoing.

"Shiloh..." It's a whisper, a plea, a vow. I adore her in ways I never thought possible, more than companies, more than any material thing I’ve ever owned. She is my everything—this fierce, incredible woman who turned my life upside down.

"Again," Shiloh breathes out, her voice laced with an urgency that matches the rhythm of our bodies. "I'm going to—"

"Come for me," I urge her, my movements becoming more fervent as if I could convey every ounce of my love through each thrust. "Fuck, Shiloh," I growl, feeling her tighten around me. Every nerve ending is alight with electric pleasure. "I love you so much."

Her soft cries fill the kitchen, a symphony of passion that drowns out the rest of the world. Then, with a final, concerted drive, we crest together. Breathless, I pull her back against me, enveloping her in my embrace.

"Shiloh," I pant, pressing my lips to her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. I hold her close, still joined, unwilling to break this connection even as the waves of ecstasy begin to ebb. My heart hammers against her back, and I look into her eyes, shifting just enough to see her face.

"I love you," I tell her again, the words heavy with emotion. Each time they pass my lips, it's like I'm discovering their depth anew. "And I am so damn grateful for you."

I pull out, my breath still ragged from the intensity of our connection. Standing there for a moment, I feel the cool air of the room contrast with the heat of my skin. I reach down to grab my boxers and slide them on, the fabric sticking slightly to my damp skin.

Shiloh, her cheeks flushed with post-coital bliss, picks up my discarded button-up from the floor. She slips her arms into it, the material hanging loose over her body. It's too big for her, but she looks perfect, almost ethereal in it. Our eyes meet, and we can't help but share a bashful smile, silently acknowledging the raw intimacy we've just shared.

"Let's get that fire going," I say, walking back toward her with an affectionate smile tugging at my lips. "Make some new memories."

"Perfect," she agrees, her voice soft, still catching her breath.

Then her gaze shifts, looking past me, her expression one of surprise. Curious, I turn around to follow her line of sight and see through the window the first snowflakes of the season gently falling outside.

"First snow of the season," I murmur, an undeniable warmth spreading through me despite the cold imagery. I pull Shilohcloser, wrapping my arms around her. The sight brings back a vivid memory, the very moment when everything shifted, when I knew she was the one who would change everything. "Just like the night we met… the night I realized you were the one."

Shiloh leans into me, her body fitting perfectly against mine as we stand there, lost in the quiet beauty of it all. It's like the universe has given its blessing, cloaking our new beginning in this pure, serene white.

"Looks like we're starting our own traditions," she says, her voice a tender murmur that fills the silence of the room.

"Yeah." My voice is steady and sure as I hold her. "Our traditions, our family."

We stay like that for a moment longer, watching the snow deepen on the streets of Beacon Hill, the world outside turning into a winter wonderland. It's magical and peaceful—a sharp contrast to the flurry of emotions and passion that just took place inside.

"Come on," I say eventually, releasing her from my embrace but catching her hand in mine. "Let's get that fire started."

She nods, her eyes still wide with the wonder of the snowfall and follows me as I lead her toward the living room. There's a feeling of contentment hanging in the air, warm and full, as we settle down by the hearth.

I build the fire methodically, placing the logs just so, striking the match, and watching the flames catch. The light flickers across Shiloh's face, casting shadows that dance over her features. She watches me with those eyes—those damn beautiful eyes that saw right through to my soul from the very start.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely louder than the crackle of the fire.

"For what?" I ask, though I know. I know it's for this—for us—for the chance at something real.

"Everything." Her smile is soft, genuine. "For this perfect night."

All I can do is stare into those rich brown eyes, the future unfolding before us.

I can’t believe she’s thanking me when I’m the luckiest man in the world.

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