Page 129 of Pucking Strong

I suck in a breath, my hands going up to brace against his back. We stand like that for a moment, clinging to each other.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Thank you, Teddy.”

I blink back tears as he pulls away. He puts a little space between us, his hands brushing down my arms, until he lets me go. “What else do you need from me? What other rules?”

My mind is spinning. What other rules do I need in place before I can let Henrik Karlsson practice wanting me? “I’m on PrEP,” I blurt out. “Are you?”

“What’s prep?”

So that’s a no then.

“PrEP is pre-exposure prophylaxis,” I explain. “It reduces the risk of contracting HIV. And before you and I have any sex, I’ll want to get a clean STI scan as well … even if I haven’t had sex in, like, six months. Better safe than sorry.”

“I haven’t had sex in over six years. When I did, I only ever used a condom.”

As I hear him say it out loud, the reality of our situation hitsme like a ton of bricks. Backing away from him, I sink down onto the opposite couch. “Well … so then maybe you can skip the STI screening.”

“And the other thing?”

“I mean, you don’t have to be on PrEP. That’s totally your call. Maybe talk to a doctor? I’ve never really considered going off it because I’ve never settled down with just one person. Condoms alone are definitely more convenient, but it was never worth the risk for me.”

He considers for a moment. “This prep is for having sex with many people?”

I shrug. “I mean, that’s a bit derivative, but sure. That’s one good use for PrEP.”

He glares at me, his arms crossed. “I’ll not share you, Teddy. You are my husband, or you’re nothing.”

Wow. How often have I fantasized about Henrik Karlsson saying those words to me? Swallowing my nerves, I offer a weak smile. “So, obviously that’s one of your conditions we need to renegotiate.”

“What?”

“When we married, you said I’d be free. You said you’d never hold me back. You said I can do whatever I want with whomever I want. It just can’t happen in this house. Would you like to renegotiate those terms?”

He stalks over to me and drops to his knees. Mirroring my position from moments before, he places his hands on my thighs, his dark blue eyes fierce in their intensity. “Look at me, mitt hjärta.”

I look at him, heart in my throat.

“Jag vill ha dig. Do you know what that means?”

I shake my head.

His hands smooth up my thighs in a natural gesture of possession. “It means, ‘I want you.’ Teddy, I wantonlyyou.”

I melt for him, folding forward until our foreheads touch. “Henrik …”

“But I cannot want what can’t be mine.” Holding up my hand, he lets the gold of my ring glint in the lamplight. “So long as you wear this, say only I will know your touch.” He takes that hand andpresses it to his cheek, holding it there. “I may not know much about intimacy, but I know I need this from you.”

“Only you,” I assure him. “Henrik, I only want you.”

He groans, wrapping his arms around me. The familiar weight of him pressing me back feels so goddamn good. I want to wrap my legs around him and stay like this forever. He nuzzles gently against my neck as he breathes me in, and I crow with happiness.

Digging my fingers into his hair, I pull his head back, desperate to see his eyes. “Say you’re mine too. Maybe with another, I could have shared. But not you, Henrik. Never you. You’re mine, or you’re nothing.”

He leans away, touching my face with searching fingers. The tips brush featherlight over my brow, down the bridge of my nose, along my jaw. It’s like he’s committing me to memory. It feels primal. Sacred. Finally, his hand drops away. “Whatever else I am, I’m yours.”

“Min man,” I whisper.

He nods.

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