Page 158 of Frozen Flames

I give Harv a kiss, and I walk toward the cabinets to retrieve the cinnamon. I’m surprised when I turn around and Harvey’s right there, facing me, smirking.

He baffles me sometimes.

For him to be able to walk toward me stably is otherworldly. Though he still has a certain limp to his walk that he’s bothered by.

He sighs. “I get to walk into the kitchen and see my wife in this cute little black dress, baking a cake for us, and I can’t help beingso happy, Claire, that I get to experience this with you,” he murmurs, taking it all in, everything around us, every feature of my face. “I know you think you’re only baking a cake, but to me, it’s you taking the time to do something for us, to show that you care, and it just… Thank you.”

I stare at him, mesmerized, and for some reason, his appreciation makes me emotional.

He kisses my forehead and tells me that he never knew what home felt like until he moved in with me.

“Harv…” I grab his face and kiss him with a rush I can’t explain. My heart blossoms and opens up even further for my husband.

I love him so much.

Sometimes I look at him and my heart bursts with joy and admiration. The things he does and says make me beyond excited for our future.

I kiss him as if I’ll stop breathing if I can’t keep his lips on mine.

I kiss him and empty all these emotions into him, hoping he understands how grand my love for him is.

I cherish this man with every cell of my being.

Over the years, I’ve watched him transform his life and turn it around, and I’m so glad I got to be his chosen one.

Because he’s mine as well.

I had marriage and eternity in my mind the moment I saw him.

We continue to kiss against the wall, and he lifts my dress up, teasing my thighs until he reaches the waistband of my underwear. He’s moving his fingers in circles over the most sensitive part of me, delaying the satisfaction of having his hand in my panties. I’m breathless and begging after just moments, and then he finally pushes them down and they fall to my ankles.

I kick them away.

I wait, anticipating his next move.

He licks his fingers and touches me directly, yet he’s wasting precious time because all I want right now is for him to undress and shove himself inside of me.

Eventually, he does.

I stare at our ring fingers, and I’m getting more aroused by the sight of his wedding band.

I love this man.

I love everything he does for me, for us.

I love that he’s mine.

“Claire, I love you.” He thrusts into me with a steady rhythm, holding my neck in a gentle yet protective manner.

I moan into his mouth as he kisses me again, my hands weaving through his blond hair. He has one arm above my head, holding on to the cabinet door handle to remain steady on his feet.

I don’t doubt how much this means to him—that he can do this standing against the wall. I wonder if he feels euphoric in this moment because of it.

I bring his lips as close to mine as I can, holding on to his jaw for dear life. Tears gather in my eyes, and I let them fall.

I’m happy with him.

And I’m proud of him.

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