Then he pulled his hand away, pressing his nose to hers. “You are so wet, Rose… so ready for me…”
His words made her feel hungry for him again. Ravenous.
“Take me,” she dared to say.
His dark eyes widened upon hearing her words, and his lips crashed against hers without any warning. The desire she felt was so profound that she doubted she would ever come back to the surface. It didn’t matter. As long as she was with him, it didn’t matter where she was.
While he was still kissing her, she could feel the tip of his manhood press against her wet folds, separating them, slowly allowing himself access to her velvet heat. His lips stole any words that she might have bestowed upon him. He stole all of her breaths. Everything she had was his, as he claimed her slowly, thrusting each time a little deeper.
That was when he broke the kiss, choosing to lock eyes instead. She could see herself in the reflection in his eyes, and that was all she needed to know. He was so beautiful, so handsome. And that man was her husband, forever more. She couldn’t look away from him even if she wanted to.
His hips kept moving into her as she jerked her body against his, her desires completely taking over. Her legs were wrapped around him, keeping him close. His hand slid into her hair, gripping at it, clutching a fistful. He didn’t want to let her go, just like she didn’t want to let go of him.
It was beyond anything she could have imagined. The moment when her body relax, it exploded into a million little stars, with his eyes drinking in the sight of her. She clutched at him desperately as a tidal wave of pleasure took hold of her. A moment later, she felt his body do the same. He lunged into her deeply, and froze on a low groan, his eyes still locked with hers.
They remained like that for a few moments. Then he slid to the side, wrapping his arms around her and breathing heavily.
“Are you all right, my love?” he asked tenderly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She felt overwhelmed by love for this man. She caressed his cheek, turning his face to look at her. “You could never hurt me, my love. You were and always will be my savior. I love you…”
He kissed her tenderly, lovingly. She withdrew, lying down on his chest and closing her eyes. She didn’t know when she fell asleep. All she knew was that she did so listening to the steady beating of his heart, which belonged to her.
Epilogue
Six months felt like six weeks. At least, that was how Rose felt about them. That morning, as the sun rose over the manor, casting a golden glow across the gardens, Rose strolled leisurely along the paths, a wicker basket swinging gently from her arm.
The morning air was crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the dew-kissed ground. She made her way towards her favorite spot, a secluded area of the garden where she cultivated a variety of herbs and medicinal plants.
This part of the garden was a sanctuary for Rose, a place where she felt most at peace. The neatly arranged beds of herbs, with their varying shades of green and fragrant leaves, were a testament to her dedication and care. She loved tending to these plants, knowing they held the power to heal and soothe.
Rose knelt beside a cluster of lavender, its purple blossoms vibrant and aromatic. She carefully picked a few sprigs, the familiar scent calming her. Next, she moved to the chamomile, gently plucking the delicate white flowers that her aunt often used for making soothing teas. As she continued to gather herbs, she thought of her Aunt Cora, who had asked for specific plants to use in her remedies. She would be pleased with the fresh selection Rose was preparing.
With her basket full, Rose stood and surveyed her work, a sense of satisfaction washing over her. She knew her aunt would appreciate the fresh herbs, and she looked forward to Aunt Cora’s visit later in the day. As she walked back through the garden, the sun now higher in the sky, Rose felt a deep connection to the land and the simple joys it brought her.
The manor gardens, with their beauty and bounty, were a reflection of the life she and William were building together—a life rooted in love, care, and a shared appreciation for the world around them.
With her basket full of freshly picked herbs, Rose walked towards the new glasshouse, its sleek, transparent walls gleaming in the morning sunlight. She still marveled at how quickly William had it constructed. The glasshouse was a testament to his love and dedication, a place where they could cultivate plants year-round and explore new botanical possibilities.
As she entered the glasshouse, the humid, earthy scent enveloped her, mingling with the crisp morning air. Most of the plants were still freshly planted, and the space had a sense of potential energy, as if it were on the brink of bursting into full bloom. She could already envision the vibrant greenery and colorful blossoms that would soon fill the space, creating a lush, thriving haven.
“Henry?” she called out, her voice echoing softly in the glasshouse.
A moment later, he emerged from behind a row of seedlings, wiping his hands on his trousers. William had told her numerous times what a tremendous help Henry had been in getting the glasshouse up and running.
Also, Rose couldn’t help but notice how much he had grown in the past several months. She couldn’t see a boy any longer, but a young man who had made some mistakes, but instead of beating himself up over them, he took responsibility and he learned a valuable lesson from those same mistakes. As she had already told him before, she was immensely proud of him.
“Oh, Rose,” he smiled widely upon seeing her. “I just finished with the planting.”
“I can see,” she nodded, taking in the sight around her. “Everything is coming along beautifully.”
Henry’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “It is, isn’t it?” He paused for a moment, inhaling deeply, and she could see how much he liked it there. “It is astounding to see everything grow from a little seedling. I’ve learned so much about plants and how to take care of them. It is hard work, but it is so rewarding.”
Rose nodded, sharing his enthusiasm. “William has done something wonderful by having this built. I still can’t believe how quickly he had constructed it. The workers from the village have done wonders with it.”
Henry looked around the glasshouse, his eyes reflecting his deep admiration for her husband. “The duke has been incredibly generous. I am so grateful to him. Not just for the glasshouse, for but everything. He has given us a new start, choosing to let go of the past.”
“We all chose to let go of the past,” she reminded him. “Only when both sides do that can true healing begin.”
