Page 153 of The Rogue and His Flower

“I’m aching for you, Dalton. Please just make love to me,” I beg as our gazes clash, this rush of love blooming inside of me. I imagine it growing with every passing second, spreading out to every single part of my body, seeping from my skin, feathering outwards and grazing against him until we’re both encased in this blissful bubble of love.

“Always. There will never be anyone else for me, only you, always you. I will make love to you for the rest of my life. I’m so fucking lucky to have you. Why did I waste all those years?” he asks, his voice cracking as I release him and he lays his body over mine, his cock sliding against my slit.

“None of that matters now,husband,” I reply, smiling softly up at him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you calling me that,” he says, and I pull him towards me so I can kiss him tenderly, impressing everything that I feel inside against his lips.

Our tongues tease and explore, and as we kiss he rubs his length up and down my seam until I’m panting for him, my clit throbbing, needing to be filled.

“Ready?” he murmurs, searching my gaze for any uncertainty, his hair flopping forward, tickling my brow, the deep blue of his irises scolding my skin.

“Yes, Dalton. Make love to me,” I whisper as he reaches between us, grasping his cock and guiding it to my opening.

Slowly he slips an inch inside of me, and I widen my legs, pushing up against him, urging him deeper.

“You feel… Fuck, it’s bliss, Daisy. You’re all that I didn’t know I needed. You’re mine,” he adds as our breaths mingle and his eyelids stutter shut, a moan releasing from his lips.

“Deeper, Dalton,” I urge against his lips, stroking my hands down his spine, palming his arse.

Inch by delicious inch he sinks into me, stretching me wide, fitting me perfectly until he’s seated to the hilt.

“My love,” he groans, holding still, my nipples gently chafing against the lace of my bra as our chests meet.

Then with slow, deliberate movements he begins to move his hips, pulling out only a little, before sinking back inside of me once again, his gaze never leaving mine as our bodies move together, rocking into each other. I can feel the love and tenderness he has for me in every gentle thrust, every gasping breath, every delicate kiss, and soft caress.

Everything falls away, until there’s just us.

There is no pain.

There is no fear or anguish.

There is no heartache. Just love.

“Thisis what it feels like to be loved,” I tell him. “Right here and now, us joined together.This.”

“Yes,” he croons, rocking into me. “I feel it.”

Every stroke is filled with gentle passion, every brush of his lips against mine a tender gesture of his love, and as the minutes pass I’m enveloped in him, in the beauty of us. All the hurt I’ve felt these past few weeks fades away.

We don’t rush to come, instead we move together slowly, strengthening the connection between us, stitching together the wounds these past few weeks have inflicted until, eventually, I feel my orgasm building once more, my inner walls clenching around his cock.

“Dalton,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his arse, urging him on as he continues to slide into me with a perfect, agonising rhythm.

“Come for me, wife,” he breathes, his lips feathering across my jaw, his expression set, determined. “Let me feel you shatter around me. Give yourself to me as I give myself to you, wholeheartedly, until death do us part.”

“I already have,” I reply and our words of devotion are like a match to gasoline, igniting a spark within me that quickly blazes into an inferno. My eyes roll back in my head as my orgasm crashes over me, my body convulsing around him, every muscle tensing and relaxing in waves of pleasure.

Dalton's body shudders against mine as he releases shortly afterwards, his cock pulsing, coating my insides with his cum. “Daisy, you’re my everything. You’re my home, my sanctuary, my sweetest joy,” he says, palming my face.

“And you’re my forever, Dalton. Nothing and no one can take that away,” I whisper, repeating what I’d said to him on our honeymoon

“Nothing and no one,” he agrees.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

DALTON

“Ready?” I ask Daisy as she applies a soft pink gloss to her lips the following day. We’ve spent most of the morning in bed, enjoying each other’s company, talking about our future, making tentative plans, and readying ourselves for the fallout.

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