Part 27 (1/2)
It was like the first time. He didn't hurry, despite the need that made him s.h.i.+ver every time his skin brushed against hers. He seduced her, in the most tender way he knew, and brought her slowly to such a pitch of desire that she pushed against him with anguish.
”Easy, sweetheart,” he whispered as he moved her up just enough to accommodate the slow, vibrant thrust of his body. ”Yes. That's it.”
They were lying side by side. She moaned, wis.h.i.+ng that she could feel his weight.
”I want that, too, Grace,” he whispered into her mouth, ”but it's too soon. I don't want to hurt you.”
”It isn't hurting,” she whispered back. Her eyes closed as he pulled her hips roughly against his and began to fill her in a slow, deep rhythm that echoed their rapid heartbeats.
She pushed closer into her husband's arms and pleaded with him to ravish her.
She thought she heard a husky chuckle, but the spiral was already beginning. It took them both higher and higher, into a vivid red heat that stopped breath, sight, hearing, everything except the feverish union of their bodies. Seconds later, she cried out in delight and arched against him with her last bit of strength. She felt him shudder, heard him whisper her name over and over again as he, too, found completion.
A long time later, he propped himself on an elbow and looked down at Grace, who was sprawled on her back. She gave him a breathless grin.
”Now tell me you only married me because I got pregnant,” she dared him, chuckling.
”Okay, you win, I married you for great s.e.x,” he agreed.
”And?” she prompted.
”And your apple cake,” he added. ”And to learn how you grow roses twice as big as mine. So why did you marry me?”
She tweaked his hair and smiled up into his dark, dark eyes. ”I married you because I loved you,” she said softly, ”because you were the only man I was ever able to want.”
”Thank G.o.d for that,” he whispered. He kissed the tip of her nose. ”I gave you a difficult time.”
She put her finger over his lips. ”We're happily married with a new baby,” she reminded him. ”All that other stuff is gone.”
He sighed. ”At least you won't ever have to worry about Sheldon again.”
She nodded. There was a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, just at hearing his name. ”That therapist I'm seeing is really good. She's helping me cope with the memories.”
He smiled. ”If today is an example, she's really helping you a lot.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. ”It wasn't that.”
His eyebrows arched. ”Then what was it?”
”You had your s.h.i.+rt off while you were watching TV,” she replied, her eyes on his broad chest. ”You shameless man. I really can't resist you when you're half naked.”
”I feel exactly the same way about you,” he agreed, and kissed her again.
She glanced at the baby monitor. Its light was on, but she only heard soft breathing. ”I'm glad we got that,” she pointed to it. ”Otherwise, I'd never sleep.”
”Neither would I.” He brushed back her hair. ”Are you happy?”
She smiled. ”I could die of it.”
He kissed her eyelids tenderly, remembering how he'd done that just before they wheeled her into surgery. ”When Tory is old enough to go to school, I want you to come to work for me.”
”Doing what?”
”As a translator,” he said. ”You might not realize it, but Arabic is one language not a lot of agents can speak. You'd be an a.s.set.”
She pursed her lips and grinned at him. ”I might do that.”
He rolled over onto his back and yawned. ”I have to go to court tomorrow and testify against those bank robbers we caught. I'll probably be home late.”
She kissed his shoulder. ”I'll make a late supper.”
He smiled, sliding his arm around her. ”You're the nicest wife on earth. It's no wonder I love you.”
Her heart skipped. It was the first time he'd said the words. ”Do you, really?”
His dark eyes emphasized the feeling in the words. ”With all my heart. For all my life. And I hope we have a very long time together.”
She curled up against him, enveloped in happiness. All the lonely, painful years had led her down a path that ended in love and pa.s.sion and a child born of that love. We earn our happiness, her grandfather had once told her, with pain and tears. She smiled drowsily, ignoring the faint twinge of her incision, and pressed a soft kiss against her husband's strong, warm shoulder.
”We're going to have years and years,” she promised. ”And I'll love you more with every one that pa.s.ses.”
He drew her closer, careful not to hurt her chest. ”I'll love you the same way.”
”And we can both talk to the rose bushes,” she mused.
”As long as n.o.body hears us,” he agreed. ”I work for the FBI,” he reminded her. ”I can't be overheard talking to plants.”
She kissed his shoulder again, still wrapped in the warm aftermath of belonging. ”And they say that federal agents have no sense of humor,” she scoffed.