“Forever, my beloved,” he said.

“Forever, True,” she whispered, her arm wrapping all the way around, her fingers holding tight to his side, her hand at his neck cupping it.

He bent to kiss her as he shifted a hand over her hip, between them, over her belly and down.

He pressed at her nub as he thrust deep inside and slid his tongue in to claim her mouth.

His wife instantly climaxed against it.

Giving her that, True let himself go, continuing with finger and tongue to offer her more, take her higher, make it last as long as he could, until he had to clamp on her hip to hold her steady as his world went a dense green, his balls drew up and he shot inside his bride.

Glorious.

He had his face in her neck and felt her fingers trailing the small of his back, just above his arse, when the climax released him.

He managed to ascertain he still had his weight in his forearm, but that was it.

He could not move.

Which was fine, for he did not want to.

“That was a terrible trick, but I could not wait any longer.”

Farah’s words made him move.

He lifted his head to gaze down at her in confusion.

“Pardon?”

“Sitting on our bed in the nude in hopes of seducing you,” she explained.

He nearly burst out laughing.

In his effort to contain this, his body started shaking violently, so much, his cock almost lost its place.

He liked where his cock was, therefore, he got a handle on himself.

“I do not believe I’ve complained,” he pointed out.

“I should have had a conversation with you. But you’ve been very busy. So distracted. I thought when the sling was gone, we would…and then we didn’t. For days. And it was meetings. And you going to Crittich Keep. And visiting with Alfie. And behind closed doors with Bram and Wally and Florian and Luther. And—”

As she spoke, he realized how agitated she was.

And as she spoke, and his cock slid out, losing the heat of her, he saw the vines that had overtaken the bed retreat.

“We created a garden,” he noted, cutting off her words.

“I…sorry?”

“Your magic, my world,” he said, shifting his eyes to the side.

She turned her head just in time to watch two vines of ivy slink away.

“Oh,” she breathed.

He looked to her and grinned at her when she turned again to him.

He then sobered.

“I have been derelict in my duties to my wife,” he declared.

She moved a hand from his back to lay it on his cheek, murmuring, “True. It isn’t that. It’s—”

“A dereliction of duties to my wife,” he somewhat repeated. “I did not sense you were ready.”

“The best way for you to know I was ready was for me to tell you, not trick you into making love to me by essentially throwing myself at you.”