Page 66 of Cherished Lands
"I'm not." I stepped closer, cupping her face in my hands. "I'm doing it because I should have done it months ago. Years ago, maybe."
Her lip trembled, and I felt the movement of her throat as she swallowed. "What are you saying?"
I stroked a thumb over her cheekbone. "I'm saying… I'm sorry. I'm saying youarepart of this family. You have been since that first night you crashed in my bedroom. Hell, maybe even before then. I think Dad adopted you the moment you offered to invest in the family business. Chase wasn't wrong about my 'list.' But, fuck, I never thought I'd check off item number one. Never thought I'd find someone like you."
Her face lit up in a warm, genuine smile. "Elliot Everton, are you saying I am your perfect wife?"
"Perfect." I rested my forehead against hers. "Wouldn't want any other one."
When I kissed her, she tasted like winter air, sharp and fresh. I felt a rush of exhilaration as a future I'd never dared contemplate unfolded before me. Maybe Dad was right—the truth wasn't simple, but it was a place to start.
And this? This felt like the truth.
Chapter Twenty-Three
TESSA
His lips weregentle against mine, but I could feel the tension thrumming through his body. When I nipped at his bottom lip, the growl that rumbled through his chest sent a rush of heat to my core.
"Careful, Princess," he warned, his fingers tightening in my hair.
"Or what?" I pulled back and raised my chin, meeting his gaze. "You'll punish me?"
"You'd like that too much."
He walked me backward until my shoulders hit the lighthouse wall. The contrast between the cold stone at my back and his burning hot body pressed against my front made me gasp.
"You drive me fucking crazy," he muttered against my neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin. "You know that?"
I arched into him as his hands slipped under my coat, seeking bare skin. "Show me."
He stared at me, his stormy eyes clouded with want. Then he was stripping off my coat, my sweater, leaving me shivering in just my bra.
"So beautiful," he breathed, trailing calloused fingers down my sides. "All mine."
"Yours," I agreed. The hot, possessive flash made my aching pussy throb.
"Come here." He led me to the waiting blankets. The portable heater cast a warm glow across his face as he pulled me down with him.
We took our time, trading slow kisses and tender touches. Every brush of his fingers was a promise, every press of his lips a declaration. This wasn't the frantic heat of our previous encounters—this was something deeper, something real.
His tender touch made me feel like an object of worship, and I trembled under his gentle exploration. "Elliot, please..."
"So impatient." His lips brushed feather-light kisses along my collarbone.
"Cold?" he asked when I shivered.
I shook my head. "Just... sensitive."
His smile was devastating. "Good."
He took his time with my bra and panties, each newly exposed inch of skin caressed with lips, tongue, and teeth. When he finally had me naked beneath him on the blankets, I felt more exposed than I ever had before. Not because of my nudity—he'd seen every inch of me by now—but because of the way he was looking at me. Like I was precious. Like I mattered. It was a look that took me to pieces and lovingly put me back together again in one fell swoop. My feelings felt too big for mybody to contain, and there was an exquisite, aching pressure in my chest.
Don't cry. Don't you dare cry during sex.
"You're thinking too much," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh.
"Then distract me."
