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“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She nodded, her eyes hooded.

“Tell me what you want,” he told her, teasing her again.

“You,” she whispered. “I want you.”

He groaned, nipping her bottom lip. His hand trailed down to her folds, and he bit back a groan at how blissfully wet she was. He slid a finger inside her to stretch her then two, stoking her as she writhed beneath him. Her moans beat the music of any coordinated musical troupe he’d ever heard.

She was boundless in her desire, her hips bucking against his hand. When she reached ecstasy, he enjoyed the way her walls clenched around his fingers, her cries loud as her nails dug into his shoulders.

He waited till she came down from her high to notch his member at her entrance, pushing ever so gently. She stiffened again, but when he kissed her, she relaxed.

He wanted to shield her from the pain, so he moved inch by slow inch until he was fully seated inside her, not moving till she’d adjusted to his girth.

He slid out of her and then slowly thrust back into her, groaning at how tight and perfect she felt.

Arabella bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut, and he couldn’t help but laugh. She looked so adorable.

“Open your eyes, wife,” he cooed. “Let me see your desire.”

“I can’t,” she cried.

“You can, love.” He smiled. “There’s no need to hide from me.”

She opened her eyes slowly, tentatively, meeting his eyes, and at that moment, Edward started thrusting into her. He tried to move slowly and steadily, but as his desire peaked, his thrusts became harder, faster, and less coordinated.

“Edward!” she cried.

“Arabella.” He groaned in her hair. “I love you.”

“Please.”

“I got you, love.”

His thrusts got even faster, and when he climaxed inside her, she climaxed with him, their breaths coming fast.

He rode out their orgasms, before collapsing beside her and pulling her to his chest, panting.

He felt the moment she fell asleep, and he smiled, letting himself drift off.

ChapterTwenty

Edward was having a really delicious dream that involved lavender-scented silk pressed to his face and soft skin under his fingers.

He squeezed his hand experimentally only to be rewarded by a soft sigh. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking till they adjusted to the daylight. He smiled, feeling sated and happy.

An expanse of pale skin caught his eye, and he looked down, his lips curling into an appreciative smile. Arabella was just so beautiful, looking like a goddess with her hair glowing in the sun like dark honey, her sweet lips puckered in sleep.

Their limbs were tangled, and as he looked, she drew him even closer with a delicious sigh. She looked like an angel, framed by the covers. His very own wood sprite.

She, who could summon spring in his heart simply by smiling.

He really had fallen helplessly in love, if he, the cold cynical Duke of Soulden, was now spouting poetry again.

The depth of his feelings for her sometimes scared him with its intensity. It was never easy to be that vulnerable with someone without the protection of the walls that had safeguarded his heart throughout the years, but he felt them crumble in his wife’s arms.

The love he received in return made it all worth it in the end. Hence he now understood what it meant to walk on clouds.