Charlie got the photographs she dreamed of before the wedded pair found Devil’s Hollow about bursting. It was supposed to be an intimate reception, yet somehow had turned into a whole county affair. Monroe was going to celebrate whether Matthew and Charlie wanted it or not.
Several men pulled out instruments and dancing began. Matthew obliged her, taking her hand before she even had to hint. Charlotte Emerson got Matthew’s full attention; the whole time the man’s lips hinted at a smile. His only glares came when Nathaniel, Eli, or Beaumont stole her away for a few moments of their own.
While the party was still going full swing, the bride and groom vanished. Matthew stole her away, carrying her so the pure ivory of her lace gown would not be spoiled.
Through the dusky woods he went, all the way to their dilapidated house. With a small grin hinting he was up to no good, he carried her over the threshold and into the only room the workmen had seen to. Their foyer, full of glowing lanterns, housed a nest of quilts and a few special jars of shine.
In the soft glow of lamplight, Matthew saw her naked for the first time in weeks. Not a trace of bruised skin remained; no red angry welts, no gashes. She was glowing, perfect no matter the scars—his big, calloused hands running from her shoulders, over ripe breasts, to settle on the swell of her hips.
Matthew wanted her to know. He was going to tell her every minute if he had to. “I love you.”
Blushing shyly, Charlie grinned. “I love you too.”
He wanted Charlotte to know how bad he needed her. “I’m always going to love you.”
“I know, Matthew.” A languid kiss followed, slow and delicious.
Just like that first night, Matthew began to kneel, kissing a trail down her body. Every scar he adored, every nick.
She still stood when he darted that tongue between her thighs. Gripping his shoulders, Charlie swayed, made a noise so perfect he lapped at her slit to hear it again.
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The man just kept going, even long after Charlie had sagged against the banister, splayed wantonly for him to do with as he pleased. He wanted to give her so much, wanted her to never doubt again, but he wasn’t good with words... never had been. Instead he took that pert clit between his teeth, sucking, and groaned at the taste he loved. Those sweet parts he toyed with, just as his fingers played inside where she was eager, Charlie pleading for him to fill her up.
He smiled.
Hard, ready for her, he pulled her sweet body to his lap and slowly made her his wife.
She came quickly, mouth agape, eyes wild.
He breathed at her ear. “I love you.”
Head falling back, loving the feel of his mouth on her neck, Charlie rode him, so he too might be brought to bliss. “You’re a wicked man, Matthew Emerson.”
Husky, he spoke, “Now you’re my wife, Charlotte Emerson.”
God, how she loved the sound of that name.
Strong hands lifted and lowered her weight, Matthew growling, “Those precautions you been takin’…” He gave her one sharp thrust, he filled her up. “No more.”
Lost in pleasure, a “Hmmm,” was all that she could manage.
“You hear me, Charlotte?” Matthew nipped her earlobe.
When he did not get an answer, he bit her harder, marking her neck with his teeth.
It only drove her wild. Her fingers tangled in his hair, she kissed him for all she was worth.
All his perfect movements stopped.
Panting, Charlie opened her eyes and found a hungry and adorable Matthew waiting.
“No more precautions, Charlotte.”
Caught somewhere between bashful and wicked, Charlie asked, “You telling me you want to make a baby with me?”
Matthew grunted and rolled his hips, savoring the pleasure of her gasp. “More than one.”