She nodded, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Like I was always meant to be with you."
His eyes darkened at her words, desire and tenderness mingling in their depths. That look made her breath catch and sent heat spreading through her body.
"Come back to bed," he suggested, his voice dropping to the tone that never failed to make her shiver. "We've got hours before they arrive."
"And the breakfast dishes?" she asked, though she was already setting down her coffee mug, already leaning into him.
"Will still be there later," he replied with a small smirk. "Some things are more important."
She couldn't argue with that logic. Especially not when he bent to scoop her into his arms, carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all, back into the warmth of the cabin and toward their bedroom.
He laid her gently on the bed they shared, his eyes never leaving hers as he followed her down. Even now, with her completely healed, he was careful with her, not treating her as fragile, exactly, but as precious. Something to be cherished and protected even in passion.
"I love you," she whispered as his body covered hers. "My Daddy. My protector. My partner."
"And I love you, baby girl," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. "More than I have words for."
Words became unnecessary after that, their bodies speaking a language of commitment and need and love that transcended verbal expression. The connection between them; physical, emotional, spiritual had only deepened with time and healing, growing stronger with each challenge faced, each obstacle overcome.
His lips found hers, tender at first, then increasingly urgent. She sighed into his mouth as his hands traced reverent paths along her sides, each touch igniting her skin. She arched against him, savoring the friction of his bare chest against her breasts.His heartbeat pounded against her own, a rhythm as ancient as time itself. When his mouth traveled down her neck, she gasped, fingers clutching at his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake.
"Please," she breathed, not even sure what she was asking for. Everything. All of him.
He understood without words. He always did. His hand slid between them, finding her slick and ready. She whimpered as his fingers worked their magic, building her pleasure with practiced ease. The coil of tension wound tighter in her belly, her thighs trembling against his hips.
"That's it, baby," he murmured against her collarbone. "Let me feel you."
She cried out as he pushed her to the edge, then eased back, denying her release. The sweet torture continued until tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She was floating, drowning, burning—all at once.
When he finally positioned himself at her entrance, their eyes locked again. In that moment, she saw everything clearly, all of his devotion, his desire, his absolute certainty that she was his world. He pushed inside with agonizing slowness, filling her completely, the stretch and burn exquisite in its intensity.
"God, you feel fucking amazing," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
They moved together, finding their rhythm instantly. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust. The headboard knocked against the wall, keeping time with their increasingly desperate pace. Sweat slicked their bodies, the scent of their lovemaking filling the air around them.
His forehead pressed against hers as he drove into her, his breathing ragged. She felt herself climbing higher, her body tightening around him. The universe narrowed to just this. Totheir connection, this moment, this man who had saved her in every way a person could be saved.
"I'm close," she panted, her fingers digging into his back. "So close..."
"Come for me," he commanded softly, reaching between them to circle her clit. "Come right now little girl."
The pleasure crested, white-hot and overwhelming. She shattered around him with a broken cry of his name, her body convulsing in waves of ecstasy. He followed instantly, his release pulsing deep inside her as he buried his face in her neck, groaning her name like a prayer.
They clung to each other through the aftershocks, neither willing to let go. Her limbs felt heavy, sated, as he carefully rolled to the side, keeping her tucked against him. Their breathing gradually slowed, heartbeats returning to normal, though the connection between them remained unbroken.
She traced lazy patterns on his chest, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips. The vulnerability in these moments after always took her breath away, how completely they belonged to each other, how safe she felt in his arms. They’d been laying there for a few minutes when he propped up on an elbow and looked down at her.
“Want to go again?”
“Hmmm. I don’t know. Think you can handle it?”
He wasted no time flipping her over and onto her stomach. His hand came down on her ass several times, hard. She squealed and wiggled, her laughter filling the air around them. She loved this. Every moment of it. He pulled her up until she was on all fours and without hesitation thrust into her, hard. The first time he made love to her. This time? This time he fucked her hard and fast, claiming her completely. She didn’t ask to orgasmthis time, she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t get the words out. She came apart, screaming one word into the air.
Daddy.
Later, tangled in sheets and each other, pleasantly exhausted and utterly content, Lily traced idle patterns on Blade's chest, her fingers ghosting over the scars that told the story of their beginning. The bullet wound that had nearly taken him from her. The marks of their shared fight for survival.
"Penny for your thoughts," he murmured, his own hand drawing lazy circles on her bare shoulder.
