Page 28

Rowan

Three months later

I ’m standing in front of the main window that oversees the front yard. The first snow of the season falls from the sky, and everything around the house is white. It’s so quiet, so still—and for the first time in months, so is the chaos in my mind. Tendrils of heat sear around my body from the hearth below the flat screen TV that we never watch. It’s so fucking warm inside, and normally, I would’ve turned it off. But my wife loves the heat, so I always leave it on.

Footsteps approaching from somewhere else in the house get my attention.

“Sir,” Saint says carefully, followed by the sound of something heavy touching the wooden floor.

I turn my body to see him standing in the middle of the living room with his two suitcases waiting nearby. He keeps his face neutral, but I can sense the restlessness rolling off of him. He doesn’t think he’s really leaving tonight. I’ve tricked him before, after all.

“How are you getting home?” I ask him. “Anyone picking you up?”

“I haven’t… I didn’t know…”

I sigh. “You should’ve.” I take my Bentley key out of my pocket and throw it his way. He catches it with one hand, giving me an incredulous look. “Leave it at whatever garrison you live close to. I’ll arrange for someone else to bring it back.”

“You’re giving me… your car?”

“ Lending you my car. And if I see as much as one scratch on it—”

I’m not really worried about it. But with Saint, you always have to keep him guessing, keep him on his toes. It’s how I managed to teach him discipline—the kind that both he and his father will be thankful for, and not the kind my father wrecked my entire childhood with.

“You won’t. Thank you, sir.”

“Go now. And I hope it goes without saying that I never want to see your face around here again. Next time I hear about you, it better be something to be proud of. Got that?”

My words may be cutting, but my tone is not. I keep it light this time, and he senses it, offering me a smirk as he says, “Yes, sir.”

I turn back to the window and hear him pick up his suitcases again. He distances himself from me, and right before I glimpse him open the main door, I lower my voice and say, “Just don’t get it twisted, Saint.” He stalls. “If I ever hear any rumor about anything that went on in my house, I’ll blame it on you. And I will hunt you down and make sure you’re never getting anything you want in this life. Do you understand?”

I expect him to quiver, to be taken aback by the threat. But it seems my work here with him really is done.

A grunt of understanding, and then, “I respect you a lot, sir. And I always have, even since before you brought me into your home. This experience humbled me, yes… but it also opened my eyes to the kind of man I want to be. You’ve got everything. And one day, I hope to have the strength to get my everything, too.”

My lips curl into a faint smile. I nod, knowing he won’t be saying a word to anyone. Then he’s gone.

I breathe out, relieved that it’s just me and Dove in our house now. The chef has gone home, and so have the maids. I’m drooling on the carpet at the filthy thoughts I have in mind for me and my wife. As if on cue, her sweet voice reaches my ears as I feel her hands wrap around my torso from behind.

“You didn’t need to be so mean to him,” she says.

I smile fully now and bring her in front of me, then wrap my hands around her thighs to perch her up on the window ledge. She gasps but melts into me when she’s seated.

“You’re sweet enough for both of us,” I tell her.

My hand comes on top of her head, caressing her beautiful hair as she looks up at me with her big brown eyes. They flicker with playfulness—and they have been for the past few months now. It’s now one of my favorite things about her. To see no worry cross her mind and no tears from a sinking of her heart—unless they’re from coming so hard her world rocks a little and she feels the need to cry.

“Cole called. Said he needed to talk to you about something. Why didn’t you pick up?”

I was already on my way to him when he called our home line, actually, but I don’t want her to know that. We went back to that town where Salister kept her, since a bunch of the men who fought by Cole’s side refused to leave their homes and move somewhere else. They’re rebuilding it now, bringing new life to it. I hated the sight of it—hated knowing they were there and didn’t help my wife when she needed it, even if they fought in the rebellion after I took her out. I can’t forgive that, but after Cole told me what he went through and how Salister broke his own people, I can understand it. At the very least, they fought by our side. And yet, to me, they’re all as good as dead, which is why I gladly agreed to Cole’s decision to lead the groups from now on.

I bring my hands on either side of my wife’s face and press a kiss to her forehead. She mewls from the warmth and brings her arms around my torso, nesting herself into me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “Already talked with him.”

She leans back and narrows her eyes at me, not buying it, then yawns. I know the questions will come later when she’s more rested, but right now she’s too exhausted from organizing yet another fundraising event. Supporting the families whose men lost their lives in the Sylvestrian war has been her main priority since the state dinner three months ago. I don’t tell her to do any of this, but I know how much she cares about her work… about doing good in the world. I won’t be the one to stop her.

Whatever my wife wants, she gets, and that’s how things will always be.

But I will always keep secrets from her if I have to, and this hasn’t changed at all. Not because she’s not strong enough to handle them, but because she shouldn’t need to handle anything as long as I’m still breathing. Even in death, I’ve ensured she’s well taken care of. All that’s left to do is for us to get there—slowly, while we spend our days pouring life into each other until there’s no more left to give.

People confuse her kindness for weakness, but out of the two of us, she’s much stronger than I’ll ever be. In the midst of the chaos, she brought herself back together, stitched her own wounds, then put herself back in danger to save my life. All the while she was threatened with death not once, but every single day until I got that fucking cure in my hands. She’s a force, my wife, and I couldn’t be prouder she’s here by my side.

“So? What have you decided about the honeymoon? Japan?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing yet. I just want to do two more events before the year is over and then…” She blinks, taking a slow breath in. “To be honest, I wish I had time to do more for the veterans’ wives. I can’t even imagine…”

“Slow. Down,” I drawl, my hands now resting on her bare thighs. I was hard from the second I saw her walk into the living room in nothing but my white shirt—just like she did that morning after we first slept together. “You are doing more than anyone could’ve asked of you. Okay?”

“It’s not…” She sighs. “It’s not that easy. The press…”

I scowl, a gentle warning in my gaze. “I thought I told you not to read the papers.”

“I know. And I wish I’d listened.” She drops her hands from around my torso and looks to the side. “All they talk about is how I arrange the fucking cutlery or how I dress at these events. They don’t care about how much we raise, and they do nothing to help us promote the events so we can raise more. It’s frustrating.”

“They’ll never care. We have a few outlets that do, but the rest… That’s why I asked you not to read them. I’ve been in this game for so long, and they still get to me sometimes. I don’t want you to feel scrutinized.”

“I know. Yeah.” She nods. “But the honeymoon? I think maybe we should wait a bit more. You know, just until we make sure we’ve—” Her words come to a stop, and she huffs a laugh. “It will never be enough though, will it?”

No, it won’t. But that’s okay.

After our wedding got crashed three months ago, we organized it again, and she became my wife in front of the whole world. But I still can’t convince her to take a break so I can take us on our honeymoon. I get that. I never feel like my work is done. But if there’s one thing this year taught me… it’s that I’m never going to feel like I’ve done enough. So I might as well do the best I can and force myself—and her—to slow down when we can.

I trail my hands upward until I reach the crease of her thighs, surprised to see that she isn’t wearing her panties. Surprised, and fucking hard as a rock. My wife likes to play now. Now that she knows me, really knows me, and trusts me with her pleasure and pain. She’s become more courageous too, in her own little ways in asking for my affection. This is one of those instances, and I intend to reward her generously for it.

“You bring me your soft pussy on a silver platter and ask me to postpone my honeymoon with you,” I say, feeling the wetness from her cunt with my fingertips, “thinking you could sway me?” I cock my head. “It’s the other way around, angel. Because right now, my answer is no. We’re not postponing an entire month of fucking on tatami mats just so we can work more.”

She laughs. “Is that where we’re going to fuck? On tatami mats? I thought those were for fighting and drinking tea.”

I unbutton my pants and take my cock out, pushing it against her clit. She gasps softly.

“I’ll fuck you everywhere and anywhere,” I tell her. “Until every corner of this world knows you’re mine.”

I wrap my hands around her thighs again, this time to angle her upper body against the window and her cunt toward me.

“Use your hands. Open your pussy for me.”

She does so without hesitation, and my eyes are now glued to the small, creamy slit and her engorged clit that’s visibly pulsing for me. I push my cock in slowly, savoring the sight and the feel of her around me. Her eyes flutter closed as she holds her pussy in offering and loses herself in the way our bodies move together.

“I’ll never…” She gasps, her brows drawing together as I ram myself inside her, all the way to the hilt and hiss. “I’ll never understand what you do to me. You…”

I rest my forehead against hers and start fucking her with hard, hungry strokes. Her tight cunt takes everything, which only makes me want to give her more. She whimpers and brings her hands around my arms, holding on and milking my cock like the good girl she is.

“I know, angel. I fucking know.”