Page 52 of The Billionaire and the Nanny: Part 2

Our love is different this time—it’s purposeful, possessive. It’s like what I imagined wedding-night sex used to be in the old days—more of a ritual for the purposes of consummating the marriage. Well, we’re consummating this alright, making it real and official, and it feels amazing.

“You’re mine, sweetheart,” I tell her over and over. “Mine. I love you so much, Bailey.”

She throws back her head, arching her body into me, as I drive into her, claim her, and make her come hard against my hip bones. “All yours,” she says, surrendering. “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you….” Her muscles grip me tightly, drawing me in deeper.

I hold onto the headboard with one hand and drive deeper into her. “I won’t let you go again. Ever.” She feels so good around me, like the earth grounding me and the air allowing me to fly all at once. No flight in no airplane ever felt so right.

“I won’t let you,” she says, gripping myhair.

Hearing her voice again in my ear drives me crazy, and I slam my hips into hers, building up my longing to a fever pitch. It doesn’t take long. My body’s been calling out to her since the night she left, I’ve been holding my breath ever since she left me in the dark, and now it finally gets to see the light again.

I look into her eyes, kiss her cheeks and eyelashes, beautiful eyelashes of my woman. My Bailey. I could cry but I won’t. Instead, I come into her, wave after wave of spilling my seed into her, and I don’t care if she’s on the pill, and I don’t care if I’m not wearing a condom anymore. If we make a baby, I’m good with it. And if we don’t, because her body inherited her mom’s disorder, I’m good with that, too. Somehow, we’ll figure it out. Because it’s Bailey. My Bailey. My woman. We’ll talk about it and take whatever steps we need to succeed.

I lie beside her and breathe in our energy in silence.

Our breaths are in unison.

Together with Olivia, we’ll make a family. We’ll erase the past. We’ll create a new future, because guess who’s in control? We are. We get to decide. Ghosts are just ghosts. They can’t hurt us. I mourn the life I used to have, sure, but it’s not here anymore. We are. We’re here, and we get to decide. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure my girls are happy.

As long as they’ll haveme.

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