Page 96 of King of Praise
Micah tosses the ax aside with casual strength, the heavy tool landing with a solid thud against the worn stump. He bends to gather the split wood, thick arms wrapping around the substantial pile. My attention goes right to his powerful thighs, straining against worn denim as he straightens.
I watch him lift the load with ease, muscles flexing beneath his sweat-dampened shirt. His broad chest and shoulders ripple with controlled power as he adjusts his grip on the rough bark. Those strong thighs flex again as he starts toward the cabin, each purposeful stride making my core clench with need.
I can’t tear my gaze away from him—this masculine force heading straight for me. The way he moves, all raw power contained in that impressive frame, has heat blooming across my skin.
The cabin door opens, admitting a gust of cold air along with Micah’s broad frame. He stamps snow from his boots before depositing the armload of wood beside the fireplace. It creates a curious ache in my chest.
God, I love him. So much so I don’t even know how to adequately express it.
As I put away the last of our purchases, I become increasingly aware of his gaze following my movements. The weight of his attention sends familiar heat spreading through my body, though not entirely from desire. There’s something different in his expression when I turn to face him—an openness, a vulnerability I’ve rarely glimpsed beneath his habitual control.
Does he love me the same way I’ve grown to love him? I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the answer to that question.
He crosses the room, each step purposeful yet somehow hesitant.
My breath catches at the naked emotion in his dark eyes. This isn’t the controlled passion of our previous encounters, not the careful dominance that sets my body aflame. This is something deeper, more significant.
“I love you.” The words emerge without preamble or qualification, his deep voice carrying uncharacteristic rawness.
The monumental declaration hangs between us, both statement and question as his eyes search mine for response. No flowery language, no elaborate justification—just pure truth.
For a moment, I can only absorb the impact of his words, their significance reverberating through my consciousness.
His love comes without demands or expectations, offered freely with full awareness of our complicated circumstances and uncertain future.
Tears blur my vision as I recognize a genuine affection that respects autonomy.
“I love you too.” I say the words with equal simplicity and conviction, a truth long recognized finally given voice.
They feel simultaneously momentous and natural, like exhaling after holding my breath without realizing it. Micah’s expression transforms—the habitual guarding giving way to joy that illuminates his features and makes him appear younger.
The space between us disappears as we come together and his mouth covers mine with urgency born of newly acknowledged emotion.
His kiss transcends physical connection, communicating the depth of feeling that has developed between us. What began as comfort or desire has evolved into something neither anticipated yet both increasingly need.
His large hands frame my face with gentleness, thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down my cheeks. The tender gesture undoes me completely. I press closer, needing to feel his solid warmth, to anchor myself in this moment of profound vulnerability and connection.
“My brave, beautiful girl,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’ve brought light back into my life when I thought I’d lost the ability to see it.”
The praise, so different from his usual dominant commands that set my body aflame, touches something deeper—the wounded part of me that still struggles to believe in my own worth. Micah’s love feels like sunrise after endless night, illuminating possibilities I’d stopped believing existed.
“You make me feel safe,” I whisper into his chest. “Not just physically protected, but emotionally safe. Free to be myself without fear of judgment or punishment. I never thought I’d have that again.”
His arms tighten around me, strong yet careful as always. “You deserve that and so much more. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to give you everything you deserve, if you’ll let me.”
I lift my face for another kiss, pouring all my gratitude and affection into the connection. His response matches my intensity, deepening the kiss until we’re both breathless. When we finally separate, I see my own wonder and joy reflected in his dark eyes.
“I never expected this,” he admits, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “When I found you that night, I wanted to protect you, to help you heal. I never imagined you’d heal me too.”
“That’s what love does,” I say with sudden clarity. “Real love. It makes both people stronger, better versions of themselves. Not through control or demands, but through genuine support and acceptance.”
His rare and precious smile transforms his entire face. “When did you get so wise?”
“I had a good teacher.” I stretch up to kiss him again, briefly this time. “Someone who showed me what healthy love looks like through actions rather than words.”
“Speaking of actions…” His voice drops lower, taking on the dominant edge that never fails to turn me on. “I believe I should demonstrate just how much I love and appreciate you.”
I shiver with anticipation. This is the Micah I’ve come to trust in our most intimate moments—commanding yet considerate, gentle dominance. His large hands settle at my waist, thumbs stroking slow circles through the fabric of my leggings.
