House of Trent 01.5 - His for Christmas by Jennifer Haymore

expression like the cat’s who’d just consumed the whole bowl of cream. “Mine for Christmas.”
    His for Christmas. “Yes,” she agreed on a sigh of utter fulfillment.
    “And beyond Christmas. I want you to be mine forever.” His voice was solemn as he added, “Marry me.”
    Her eyes snapped open and she pulled back, staring at him.
    “Are…are you sure?”
    He nodded. “I am. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Even when I tried to push the desire back into the recesses of my soul.”
    She released a shaky breath. “It’s what I’ve always wanted, too. But…”
    “But what?” he asked softly.
    “But…it’s only been two days, Evan. There is so much about me—about my life—that you don’t know. And I feel the same about you. I don’t even know where you live!”
    He shook his head. “Those are just details. We’ll work it out. It’s true I don’t know the particulars of your day-to-day life, but what I do know is this: When I’m with you, I am whole. I’ve spent the past seven years feeling incomplete, searching for that elusive thing that will make me a whole man again. Now, I’ve found it.” His fingers tightened over her cheek. “And I’ve no intention of letting it go.”
    She stared at him, awed by how closely his declaration came to how she felt about him. “I feel complete with you, too. Alive. Like a part of me that has been tucked away and hibernating has come back to life.”
    “Then marry me, Amelia.”
    “Yes, Evan.” Her smile grew wide. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Chapter Eight
    E van released a long, shaky breath, and the tension drained from his body. And then he kissed her, hard. Claiming what was his, what would be his forever.
    He divested her of her nightgown. He couldn’t get enough of touching her, so hungry was he for her flesh. He kissed her everywhere his mouth could reach, reveling in her sweet taste, in the softness of her skin, in the music of her sighs and whimpers.
    She didn’t lie there passively, either. She seemed just as hungry for him as he was for her. Her hands roamed every inch of him, learning his body, learning what made him suck in his breath and what made him groan with pleasure.
    He trailed his lips up the inside of her calf, making her laugh softly as he traveled up her inner thigh and then gasp when he pressed his mouth to her sex. He inhaled her deeply, sucking, her taste more pronounced here, more feminine. He pressed a finger inside her, making her hips buck off the bed and a soft cry emerge from her throat.
    All this, every bit of this beautiful, lovely, kindhearted, and wonderful woman was his. His mind couldn’t stop repeating it. With each new place he touched and tasted, the word reverberated through him: Mine .
    She was so hot. So slick and ready for his cock. But not yet.
    First, he pleasured her with his fingers and tongue, working her, drinking her in, until she went stiff and then exploded in undulating waves under him. He coaxed her through the orgasm until she was boneless, gasping with the residue of pleasure.
    He pressed his lips one last time to her mound, then kissed his way up her body, until he tasted her lips. She draped her arms lazily over his body, and her lips were soft and warm, completely malleable beneath his own.
    He pulled back. “Amelia?”
    “Hm?”
    “I want to come inside you.”
    She hesitated, her eyes opening and focusing on him.
    She didn’t answer him for a long moment, and then she moved her hands up to frame his face and her lips curled into a smile.
    “Yes, Evan. Please. I want to feel you come inside me.”
    And she pulled him to her, kissing him deep and hard, assuring him she was certain of her decision.
    Powerful emotion surged up in him as the realization struck him that this woman—the woman he loved—would be the mother of his children. That he and Amelia would make a family together. A future. A life.
    “You’re mine,” he whispered roughly. And he pushed into her, both of them