Page 63 of The Heir
"I have you to thank for that, love. His loss still hurts sometimes, but the betrayal hurts worse. But you took care of it." I capture her hand and bring it to my lips for a tiny kiss. "I always knew you were a spitfire."
The bed jiggles with her muffled laughter. "Always? Like when you were stalking me?"
"Stalking?" I scoff. "You call it stalking; I call it passion. I was just… watching you. From a distance."
"And breaking into my apartment to leave me flowers and food."
"Is the way to a woman's heart not through her stomach?" I turn over, slipping my hand under her back and pulling her towards me. "I could swear I heard something like that."
She laughs. The joyous sound fills my heart, and I squeeze her body closer. I can't get enough of her. I want her at my side at all times. I never want to be without her. Being separated from her in the prison—and when she was in actual prison—was damn near torture. I'll burn the whole world down to be with her always. Even when her curls tickle my nose as I nuzzle my nose into the crook of her neck.
"I love you," I whisper, relishing in the way she shivers at my words.
"I love you, too, Dante."
Natural light filters through the soft white curtains. It's the most peaceful wake-up I've had in months. The sun is shining, the bed is comfortably soft, and my wife is still asleep by my side. Her hair splays across the pillow like a dark halo. Her measured breathing is soft and soothing. Every part of her is adorable, and I still can't believe she's pregnant. Withtwins. My twins.
Our twins.
The idea of her soft belly swelling with my heirs sends a shock through my core. She's my wife, she's all mine, and we made two babies. Wow.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Melody grumbles, squinting at me with one eye.
"Just thinking about how gorgeous you are."
"Flattery will get you everywhere, babe." She stifles a yawn, then wriggles closer to me, resting her adorably sleepy head against my chest. In this moment, everything is perfect. We're safe. We're alive. My wife is pregnant, and she's snuggled up to me, making cute little noises of contentment.
"Everywhere?" I ask with a grin. She rolls back over to look up at my face. An impish smile spreads over her lips, and she nods.
"Absolutelyeverywhere."
"Well, in that case…." I trail a hand down the soft curve of her waist, all the way to the thick muscle of her ass. "You're the most strikingly beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be married to you."
"Keep talking," she moans, arching her back.
"I adore your ferocity. I told you once it'd be the honor of my life if you killed me, and I mean it. Of course, I hope you don't—our children need their parents. But if your face was the last thing I saw?" I hiss out a satisfied breath. "Perfection."
"Less talk about dying, more talk about what you wanna do to me," she grumbles. "Don't kill my mood, Dante."
"My apologies, love." I pull her closer and bury my face in the crook of her neck. She shivers as I kiss her, letting my teeth dance along the soft flesh. "I want to fill you with my seed, over and over again. I want you to scream my name. I want you to run those sharp nails down my back. I want to watch you shatter around my cock until you can't take it anymore."
Her muscles tense as she sucks in a gasp. "Really?"
"Really."
My wife, bless her, attacks me with that incredible ferocity I love so much. She kisses me like she'll never get the chance again. Her lips—so soft, so plush—savage mine, and I let my primal groan rumble in my throat. Melody shivers at the vibrations, and her hand tangles in my hair.
"So, fucking do it," she whispers, pulling away for a short second. Her face is flushed, and her pupils are black voids, drinking in every inch of me. With one hand in my hair, she slides the other down to my chest, down my stomach, and further down… until she slides beneath the waistband of my underwear.
My cock is nearly weeping. I didn't even realize I was that hard until her hand wraps around my length. She traps her lower lip between her teeth, gently stroking me. I can feel the hot bead of precum well up before she spreads it all over my head.
"You're such a good fucking boy," she murmurs, grasping my hair at the root. "You're my good boy."
"I am—I know I am, please, Melody—let me show you how good I can be," I whimper.
"Yes, moan for me, Dante. I'm the only one who gets to hear you like this. You're mine." She tightens her grip on my hair. The delicate dance between pleasure and pain has me rocking my hips against her.
"I'm yours, love, I'm yours. Please?" I am not above begging.
