Page 212 of Fiery Romance

I press my lips to her forehead, body still stiff from spending half the day exploring our passion for one another.

“Tired?” I whisper.

“Exhausted.” She snuggles into my chest.

I chuckle and kiss her forehead again. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she murmurs. “A little more with every moment.”

“Romantic.”

“Weren’t you the poet?” She snorts. “I need to read the poems you claim I inspire.”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier?” I tease.

She scrunches her nose.

I run my tongue in the shell of her ear. “The way I made you feel was pure poetry.”

Her eyes flutter closed, mouth open as she laughs.

My beautiful angel.

I finally feasted on her, my hunger sated after folding her into every position I could think of, exploding each time in a white-hot blast and a sea of stars.

Nothing will compare to being with Island. I can’t wait to spend forever with her—nights spent marking her flesh like a feral monster, taking her hard and deep, or simply finding our own languid rhythm as we kiss into forever. Either way, I plan on pumping her full and expanding our family.

Holy freakinghell.

Should we stop at one baby? Two? Three? Ten won’t be enough. And ten lifetimes won’t be enough because in every one, I’ll be drawn to her.

“What time is it?” Island mumbles into my chest. “Shouldn’t the kids be coming back soon?”

I check my phone.

Earlier, Ms. Hansley texted to say Abe and Regan were still at the farmhouse. Once Abe heard that his sister was hanging with Belle, Beth, Niko, and the boys, he insisted on heading straight there after play practice.

It should be about time for them to return.

“I don’t want to get up and walk,” Island groans.

“Then don’t,” I say, sliding my hands beneath her and scooping her up.

“Clay!” Island yelps. “What are you doing?”

Rather than answer, I carry her to the shower and fill the tub. I put her hair up into a bun under her guidance and set her gently in the water.

Island closes her eyes and makes a humming sound of contentment as I rub soap over her body, skating my hands and my lips over her back.

When I’m done, I wrap her in a big white towel, pick her up again and set her on the edge of the bed.

She eyes the rumpled bedsheets and her torn shirt.

“I’m going to need a wardrobe change.”

“Daddy, we’re home!” Regan yells from the living room.

I meet Island’s eyes.

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