Page 61 of Soaring and Steadfast

Louis paused, his eyes locking onto hers with such intensity that her stomach flipped. His hands tightened around her, his jaw flexing as if he were barely holding himself together. “You are going to break me,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “I want you so much. I want to give you those babies, to hold you close…”

Tears pricked the back of her eyes at the tenderness in his words, at the need that wasn’t just desire but something deeper, something unshakable. She slid her fingers through the short strands of his hair and whispered, “Do your worst, husband.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, then smiled—a slow, carnal thing that sent heat flooding through her veins. “I intend to do myvery best, wife.”

The moment they crossed the threshold, everything became a blur. Their hands were everywhere, frantic and searching, pulling, tugging, desperate to get closer. She reached for the buttons of his uniform, unfastening them with trembling fingersas he set her down, his steps faltering when she tugged his shirt free with a wild, reckless urgency.

“Door…” he breathed against her lips as her hands roamed over his chest.

“Thank you… thank you…” His words were nearly incoherent, spoken in a breathless rush as if he couldn’t believe this moment was real.

She hesitated just long enough to unlock the door, but before she could turn back, he was already moving, already lifting her into his arms again. They stumbled inside, laughter bubbling between heated kisses, the need between them so overwhelming it was almost unbearable.

“I love you,” Louis said, his voice ragged, raw, stripped of any pretense.

“Same—shut the door.” The words tumbled from her lips desperate, hungry.

“On it.” His hand fumbled behind him, but neither of them could focus.

“Oh shoot—keys are still in the lock.” Lila barely had the presence of mind to gasp the words before Louis swore under his breath, wrenched open the door, snatched the keys, and flung them onto the floor before throwing the deadbolt.

Then, before she could even tease him about it, he was kissing her again.

“Don’t you want to see the apartment?” she managed between kisses, her tone playful, breathless.

“Gorgeous,” Louis said flatly, barely glancing at their surroundings, his focus entirely on her.

She grinned. “Louis…”

“Four walls, privacy, and you.” His voice dropped, husky, full of promise. “That’s all I care about.”

Her heart clenched at the raw sincerity in his words. She traced a slow, teasing finger along his collarbone. “You don’t care about the bed?”

The heat in his gaze turned molten. His smile shifted—something deeper, something more dangerous, a smile only she would ever see, a treasure all her own.

“I care very much about the bed,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “In fact… so much so that we should check it out right now and not leave it for days on end.”

A laugh burst from her, pure joy spilling over as she clung to him, feeling light, whole, completely his.

“Fair enough,” she breathed, throwing her head back in sheer happiness.

Lila shivered as Louis leaned in, his lips tracing a slow, reverent path along the delicate curve of her throat. His breath was warm, sending shivers racing down her spine, igniting a fire deep within her. His hands, strong yet impossibly gentle, held her close with gentleness and tenderness that made her heart soar.

Somewhere in the haze of longing and love, they managed to close the bedroom door, shutting out the world beyond these walls. A brief thought flickered between them—something about needing a lamp, a hamper—but it was lost in the quiet hum of anticipation, the silent acknowledgment that none of that truly mattered.

Not when they had this.

Not when they had each other.

Louis pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, and for a moment, time seemed to hold its breath. His beloved eyes, full of tenderness and an aching sort of devotion, searched hers as if wanting to imprint this moment into his soul. His lips parted, her name slipping from them like a sacred vow, and Lila felt it settle deep within her, an echo she wanted to carry forever.

She clung to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against hers, the quiet desperation in the way he held her—as if he could never hold her tightly enough, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was real, that she was his. He whispered words of love over and over again, like a prayer meant only for her ears. And, truthfully, she could never hear them enough. Every syllable was a gift, a promise, a thread weaving them closer together.

She had found him—her person, her soulmate. A man so wonderful, so unafraid to bare his heart to her, to give himself so completely. It was a miracle, a blessing she hadn't dared to dream of, and yet, here they were.

Whispered names…

Tender, lingering touches…

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