He was filling her with long, slow, languid thrusts, enough to keep her fully aroused but not enough to satisfy. Her temper, unfortunately, was thoroughly subsumed by desire. "Why?" She arched, desperate to lure him deeper yet.
"Because until you do, I can't be sure you know it."
She opened her eyes fully and loo
ked into his. Beneath his heavy lids, she could detect not the slightest glimmer of humor. He was serious. Despite all, despite the way her heart ached simply when she looked at him. "Of course I love you."
The set of his face-features etched with passion but with his expression somehow driven-didn't change. "Good. So you'll marry me."
There was no question in the words. Alathea sighed, struggling not to smile. He wouldn't appreciate it. The reins were in his hands and he was driving hell for leather for the church.
He didn't even appreciate her sigh. He stilled within her, looking down at her almost grimly. "You're not leaving this room until you agree. I don't care if I have to keep you here for weeks."
Despite her best efforts, her smile dawned, even though she knew the threat was not an empty one. He would do it if she pushed him.
He was a Cynster in love.
Letting her smile deepen, she reached up and brushed aside the lock of hair hanging over his forehead. "All right. I love you, and I'll marry you. There-is there anything more I need say to get you to go faster?"
She only just glimpsed his victorious smile as he bent to kiss her, but see it she did. She made him pay for his smugness by demanding more and even more of his expertise.
She nearly drove them both insane with wanting.
But it was worth it.
Later, when they lay wrapped in his sheets, not asleep but too deeply sated to move, Alathea lay with her head on his shoulder and hazily considered a lifetime filled with such peace.
For it was peace that filled her, an unutterable sense of having found her true home, her true place-her true love. That his love surrounded her, and hers him, she had not the smallest doubt. Only that, a deeply shared love, could fill her heart to this extent, so that she could not imagine any joy more fulfilling than lying naked in his naked arms, his breath a soft huff in her ear, his arm heavy about her waist, his hand splayed possessively over her bottom.
They were so alike. They would need to go slowly into their future, eyes open, careful not to step on each other's toes. There would be adjustments to be made by both of them-that was implicit in their natures. Yet while that future beckoned, rising like a new sun on their horizon, she was too comfortable, too sensually sated, to attend to it just yet.
She was comfortable, yes, and that was a discovery. That even now, fully aware of the latent strength in the body beneath hers, in the muscled arms that yet held her so gently, in the steel-sinewed limbs that pressed all along her length, even now, she was soothed, relaxed. Aware of the crisp hair beneath her cheek, exquisitely aware of his hair-dusted limbs tangled with hers. Aware to her soul of the warmth within her, of the firm member angled against her thigh. The entire reality left her deeply content.
Profoundly happy.
In bliss.
She closed her eyes and indulged.
He eventually stirred, his arms tightening about her, tension returning to his limbs. He held her close, then pressed his lips to her temple. "I'm never going to let you forget what you said."
Alathea smiled. Was she surprised?
"So." He shook her fractionally. "When are we getting married?"
They had, apparently, arrived at the church.
Opening her eyes, she dutifully turned her mind to weddings. "Well, there's Mary and Esher, and Alice and Carstairs, too. A joint wedding might be best."
His snort said no. "They may be your stepsisters, but they're sweet, innocent, and full to bursting with the usual romantic notions. They'll take months to decide on the details. I have absolutely no intention of waiting on their decisions. You and I are getting married first." He tightened his grip on her. "As soon as possible."
Alathea grinned. "Yes, my lord."
Her teasing tone earned her a finger in her ribs. She gasped and squirmed; he sucked in a breath. He settled her again, his touch converted to caress, idly fanning her hip.
"I've already spoken to your father."
Alathea blinked. "You have? When?"