Any pretense of allowing her to be in charge was gone. Vincent reached for her, hauling her onto the bed even as he turned them both over. She was on her back, he was above her, pinning her down, both of her hands captured in one of his, and the look in his eyes was absolutely feral.
“Enough,” he growled. “We made a deal once, Ophelia. In this room, I’m the one who calls the shots. You know that.”
She didn’t have an opportunity to answer. He didn’t give her one. His lips descended on hers in a crushing kiss. It was a clash of lips, teeth and tongues, a battle for dominance and he was clearly the victor. But defeat brought its own reward. She felt consumed by him, devoured, but above all, she felt desired. He kissed her like a man starved for her. The physical power was his, but she had a power all her own—the power to make him burn.
Shifting beneath him, she brought her knees up, locking her legs around his hips, pulling him against her. She loved him like this—craved the power and the need that drove them both.
His mouth moved from hers, down her neck, his teeth nipping with force just shy of leaving a bruise. He let go of her hands, but when she started to move them, he pressed them back against the pillow in silent command. A shattered moan broke from her and her hips arched against him, seeking more. “Vincent, please!”
“No,” he said roughly. “You wanted to tease, Ophelia… so do I.”
She had no idea what he meant. Her brain had ceased functioning. But when grasped the satin cups of her bra, pulling them down and freeing her breasts to his touch, to the heat of his mouth, she was simply lost. Her head fell back and a sob escaped her lips as he took one taut peak into his mouth and then the other, sucking deeply, devouring her.
He continued his exploration of her body, kissing and licking his way down to the scrap of black fabric covering her mound. When his mouth closed over her, his tongue spearing between slick folds with the added stimulation of the dampened fabric against her, Ophelia didn’t just cry out. She screamed for him, incoherent and desperate.
His mouth moved over her, his tongue circling but never quite touching her clit. He would come so close and then move away again, building anticipation until she thought she’d die from it.
“Vincent, for the love of God!”
“What do you want?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “I’ll give you anything, if you just ask.”
“Then fuck me… now.”
The ribbon holding her thong in place snapped beneath his fingers and he tossed the panties aside. He levered himself over her, the thick head of his cock pressing against her. Ophelia removed her hands from the pillow then, unclenching her fingers from the fabric and reached for him, guiding him into her.
It brought instant relief to the ache that he had built inside her, the clawing need abating for just a moment. But as he pressed deeper, filling her completely, that ache returned. Every thrust as he moved within her, surging deeper and harder, ratcheted the tension to new heights.
Clinging to him, his muscles drawing taut beneath her hands as he drove them both closer to the edge, Ophelia arched beneath him. Head back, her body bowed beneath him, and the first crashing wave of her orgasm drew a shattered cry from her. Her body trembled and shuddered from the force of it, shaking beneath him as he quickened his thrusts.
When he followed her over the edge, the heat of his release flooding inside her, tears burned her eyes. After all they’d been through, after the hurt and anger and fear had all washed away, they were still there, still together. Nothing would ever break them, she thought. Not even her own doubts and fears.
“God, I love you,” he said, his voice still ragged. “Don’t ever doubt it.”
“Don’t ever let me,” she replied breathlessly. “I don’t just love you, Vincent. I need you. It scares me to death sometimes, but—.” She stopped, unable to finish the thought.
He rolled off her, drawing her into his arms, holding onto her. “But what?”
Laying there, with his arms around her, and feeling for the first time since the entire mess had started that things really would be okay, Ophelia sighed in relief. “It’s worth it. It’ll always be worth it… I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry I walked out when you needed me to believe in you.”
He kissed her, not passionately, but lovingly, with all the tenderness she needed from him in that moment. “I need you to. I always will. It doesn’t matter how all this started… only how it ended. We’re both right where we need to be.”
‡
Epilogue
The sun was shining brightly and there was just enough of a breeze blowing to keep the temperature from being unbearable. Sitting on a blanket in the sand, Ophelia watched Vincent as he tossed Isabella in the air. She’d been cautious at first, unsure about the sand and the waves, but the minute the surf tickled her little toes she’d erupted in giggles. Now they’d never get her away from the beach.
They’d arrived at Greenleigh bright and early, both of them eager to see their baby. But Vincent hadn’t been as eager to rush back as she’d anticipated, instead suggesting that they stay a few days and enjoy an impromptu vacation. They hadn’t been away together since their honeymoon and had never vacationed with Isabella. Maeve had vacated the guest house on the property for them and was staying in the main house with Justin and Rosalee. It was small, intimate, and completely perfect.
Getting to her feet, Ophelia dusted the sand from her swimsuit and walked to the water’s edge. She liberally reapplied sunscreen to the baby. “I think I like this new plan of yours,” she said. “Delegation is a good thing.”
Vincent grinned. “We’ll see if Kaitlyn agrees.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ophelia replied. “I’m not giving this up. I like the idea of having my husband back home and in my bed every night.”
Vincent kissed her while Isabella squealed in protest. “There’s no where I’d rather be.”
Ophelia looked at him and at Isabella. “We should give her a sibling… not immediately. But soon. I want her to have what you have. I want her to have someone who will always look out for her the way you, Justin and Kaitlyn take care of one another.”
Vincent held onto Isabella’s hands as she jumped and splashed, kicking up more sand than water. “I’ll give you all the babies you want.
“We should take her back to the house… she’s had a lot of sun and probably needs a nap.”
Vincent grinned wickedly. “As long as I get to put you down for a nap too.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she replied with a laugh. Retreating to the beach, she packed up their belongings while Vincent hauled a screaming Isabella from the water. She didn’t throw many tantrums, but when she did, they were epic.
By the time they reached the guest house, however, she’d exhausted herself and lay with her head on Vincent’s shoulder and tears drying on her cheeks. He held her so gently and so protectively, every bit a loving father. Even with all the bumps in the road they’d faced, Ophelia knew she wouldn’t trade her life, or the man in front of her, for anything.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” he asked softly.
“For giving me everything I ever wanted and so much more.”
The End
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