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I cover my mouth with my hand.
“I have a justice of peace waiting downstairs,” he says. “It’s legal. It’s quiet. It’s exactly the kind of chaos we deserve.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “Are you serious?”
He nods. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I laugh—half sob, half hiccup. “You’re out of your mind.”
“And still somehow the sanest I’ve ever felt.”
He opens the box.
The ring is simple. Elegant. Just like this moment. Just like us.
I take it with shaking fingers.
“Will you take me as your loving husband?” he asks.
“Yes, yes.”
“And I take you as my wife,” he says. It’s not a question. He’s just telling me. “Can I put this on your finger?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “God,yes.”
We say our vows up there. No audience. No photos. Just the wind and the skyline and his hands in mine as I promise to love a man I once thought I hated.
He slips the ring onto my finger. I reach for his collar, and just like that, we seal our marriage with a kiss.
We’re barely inside our bedroom when Damien kicks the door shut and presses me back against it. His mouth is hungry on mine, his kiss possessive, scorching, consuming me until there’s nothing left but him.
My dress pools at our feet, and I shiver at the cool air, my skin flushed and sensitive. Damien pulls back just enough to look at me—his gaze dark and molten, trailing down over my heavy breasts, swollen and tender from pregnancy.
“I’m so big,” I say when I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Damien comes up from behind, cupping my swollen belly. “You are beautiful, Sasha. You are the mother of my child. You’re perfect.”
I turn to face him.
My fingers tremble as I undo his shirt buttons, pushing the fabric away to expose the hard planes of his chest, muscles flexing beneath his silver-dusted skin. He lifts me easily into his arms, carrying me to our bed and laying me down gently, almost reverently.
He moves above me, kissing slowly down my throat, his tongue tracing the sensitive hollow beneath my collarbone, sending delicious heat racing across my body. When his mouth closes over my breast, I gasp, arching into him. He flicks his tongue over the hardened peak, sucking softly, sending sparks shooting through me.
“Damien,” I whisper, gripping his hair, desperate to keep him close.
His lips trail down my belly, tenderly kissing the swell that carries our child, before he moves back up to meet my eyes. His fingers slip between my thighs, gently stroking me until I’m slick and trembling beneath him.
“I need you,” I murmur.
His eyes darken further. Damien pushes his pants down, freeing his cock, hard and thick and ready. My breath catches, heat pooling low and urgent in my belly as I reach down, wrapping my fingers around him, guiding him closer.
He groans softly, leaning in to kiss me as he slowly pushes into me, filling me inch by inch until I’m stretched perfectly around him. My body hums, aching and full, and I cling tightly to him as we start to move together, slow and deep, perfectly matched.
“I love you,” he whispers roughly, pressing his forehead to mine as we rock together.
I kiss him fiercely, holding tight as pleasure builds relentlessly, tightening in my core until I shatter beneath him, crying out his name. He follows moments later, groaning deeply, spilling into me as we clutch each other, both trembling, both changed.
He brushes hair off my face and kisses my temple.
“I love you, Mrs. Zaitsev.”
I smile, eyes closed, skin flushed.
And for the first time in my entire life—I believe that love like this is real. And that it’s mine.
The End