Yes, cl**axing with Frey was better than anything, even the adela tea. Perfection.
As I came down I held onto him, fighting for breath but, unusually, Frey’s arm didn’t loosen.
“Frey –” I breathed.
“Say it again,” he growled against my skin, so fierce, my body trembled but his arm, so tense, stiffened further until it almost caused pain. “Say it again,” he repeated, his voice now harsh.
“I love you,” I whispered, breathless but his arm only got tighter, his c**k still planted deep, his h*ps bucked, thrusting it deeper and my body jolted as a residual wave of heat burned through me.
“Again.” His voice was now beyond harsh, this demand was abrasive.
“Baby.”
Another squeeze, another buck of his h*ps and I whimpered.
“Say it, Finnie,” he grated.
I closed my eyes tight, fought for air and pushed out, “I love you, Frey. I’m in love with you. So in love, I’ll never stop loving you. Not ever. You, everything about you is beyond my wildest dreams.”
He pushed his face into my neck as his arm squeezed me even tighter for a second then it released and his h*ps pressed mine to the bed as he lifted up on both forearms so his big hands could frame my face on either side. His head came up and he looked down at me, face soft, beloved brown-green eyes active, stare intense.
And he did this for awhile. A long time, actually, what felt like years and he did it without speaking or moving. He just lay with his large body covering and connected to mine and he stared at me.
Um… I wasn’t certain that was good.
“Do you…” I pulled in a breath and with it courage, “uh… do you… um, feel the same… uh, I mean,” I rushed to finish, “like, not the same, the same but… um, even a little bit?” I asked.
He stared at me another second that led to two which led to three which led to four (I counted) before he asked, “Are you mad?”
I didn’t know how to take that answer.
“Um… no?” I asked back because now he was looking at me like he was convinced I was and his conviction made me question mine.
Then his face dipped close, his hands put gentle pressure on my head and he whispered, “Finnie Drakkar, I fell in love with you when you told me you had a rule about dead game on the kitchen table.”
I blinked and my body jolted with surprise.
He couldn’t…
Could he?
Seriously?
“Seriously?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer my question, instead, he stated, “No, it was before that, when I walked into the cabin to see my wife in a pink gown with a pink ribbon in her hair looking more beautiful simply stirring batter in a bowl than most women do after their maidservants spend five hours on their appearance.”
Oh my God.
Oh my God!
What man remembered pink dresses and pink ribbons? What man?
No man. None of them. None at all.
Except ones who witnessed these things while falling in love.
Oh. My. God.
“Shut up,” I whispered but I didn’t know how I did it since my throat was closing.
Frey grinned and replied, “It’s true.”
“That’s crazy.” I was still whispering.
“Indeed it is, my wee one, but it’s still true.”
Oh my God.
“I’m going to cry,” I announced, my voice trembling with the evidence that proved my statement true.
Frey’s grin became a smile and his eyes warmed. “I see that, love.”
My breath hitched and a tear slid out of the side of my eye before I demanded on a weak shove at his shoulder, “You have to quit making me cry.”
He dropped his head and slid his nose along mine as he muttered, “I’ll work on that.”
I looked at his olive green eyes close up knowing without a doubt he was so totally not going to work on that.
I held on tight and lifted my head, pressing it into his neck. He rolled, disengaging our bodies but taking me to the top where one of his arms stayed closed around me and his other hand stroked my back as I wept softly in his neck.
I didn’t cry long because I thought of something, pulled myself together, lifted up on a forearm in his chest and looked down at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“You did not know?” Frey asked back and I blinked.
“What?”
His brows drew together and he studied me. “Wee one, how could you not know?”
“I –” I started.
“It was clear as day,” he declared and I had to admit, that was true. Mostly.
“You still could have told me,” I informed him.
“Indeed,” he stated and his arm gave me a squeeze, “as you could have done. Why didn’t you tell me you cared so deeply for me?”
Shit. He knew I’d been holding back.
“Well,” I began, “it was clear as day.”
He grinned and muttered, “Right.”
“Well it was!” I snapped because, truthfully, it was and his grin turned to body rocking laughter as he rolled me again so I was on my back and he was pressed to my side looking down at me.
When he controlled his hilarity, he remarked, “Well, it is said now, thank the gods.”
“Yes,” I bit my lip and stared up at his handsome face. “It is,” I continued on a whisper. “And it’s funny because the first moment I saw you, you terrified me.” I watched a shadow pass over his face and instantly I lifted my hand to rest against his cheek and went on, “But looking at you now I cannot for the life of me understand why.” I slid my thumb along his cheekbone, pulled in a light breath and said it again, “I love you, Frey Drakkar.”
His eyes closed and his forehead dropped to rest against mine before he opened his eyes again, stared into mine and replied, “And I you, Finnie Drakkar.
I circled him with my arms and rolled into him so we were on our sides, face to face. Then I held him tight as he returned the favor.
“So much,” he murmured belatedly, “I’ll never stop loving you, my winter bride. Not ever. You, everything about you is beyond my wildest dreams.”
I closed my eyes hard as those words settled around my heart and I shoved my face in his throat and pressed my body deep, held on tighter and my strong husband absorbed my fierce embrace.
Then I smiled against his skin because at that moment, I rocketed straight up and hit the bell with a loud clang at the bliss end of the happiness scale, embedding myself in a way I knew would be forever.