“I’ll lie back, but I’ll have my way with you first,” he argued, leaning upright against the pillows. He lifted Gwen and held her between his legs, her back against his chest, and her feet on either side of his thighs. She made a sound of concern and moved to check the bandage covering his leg. “Shh,” he hushed. “’Tis fine, wife.”

He settled her more deeply against him as his lips found her neck, and she relaxed beneath the gentle touch of his hands. He nuzzled her neck and shoulders, caressed her entire body, but when his fingers slipped between her thighs and she began to move against him, he made his intentions clear. “You’re not to move,” he whispered, “not one muscle, Gwendolyn, or I’ll stop. And I’ve nothing better to do than to torture you all day.”

Gwen tried to heed his demands, but Greylen was merciless. He had her pressed so tightly against him that every twitch she made he felt. And he held true to his promise. His hands left her body as soon as he felt any movement from her. Then he admonished her lack of control with a teasing whisper in her ear. “Concentrate, love. Keep completely still. I promise you only bliss in return.”

He was right. It was the hardest thing that she had ever done. Holding herself completely still as his fingers slowly stroked her. Her orgasm, when it came, was so intense she swore her brain shook from the impact.

“I told you,” he whispered in her ear, chuckling from her unintelligible response. “If I don’t get inside you, wife, I fear I shall die.” His words were a caress and Gwen turned to straddle him. He lifted her hips, taking great care to gently push himself inside. Gwen’s head fell back as he entered her, overcome by the intense feeling of having him inside her. It felt so good, but her slowness obviously drove Greylen mad because a second later she was flipped beneath him. He covered her lips at her protest, his husky reply, “You’ll mend my stitches should they split,” was the last thing she remembered.

They remained undisturbed that night, their passion obviously heard by the guards beyond their doors. Anna knocked at some point, though, informing them she’d brought trays with dinner. Gwen wrapped herself in a sheet before she retrieved them, her embarrassment deepening as she looked to Ian and Connell, who smiled knowingly in return.

They ate by the window, the moon bright in the darkened sky above. Greylen held her on his lap as they sat in one of the chairs by the fire, kissing for hours and rediscovering each other’s bodies. They slept soundly, exhausted emotionally from what the night represented.

Homecoming. Belonging. The depth of their love for each other.