It was primal.
He paused at her entrance, looking into her eyes. She bit her lip as he pushed upward. The gasp of pleasure shivered over him as he entered her. He loved the way her eyes darkened and then rolled into the back of her head as he made her his.
Every inch of him was warm now. Warm and secure. He almost hated to pull out, but he did so knowing that he could dive into her depths again if he did. The way her body tightened around him, drawing him in was something that never got old.
He went slow, enjoying every sensation. His hands were on either side of his head as he worked his hips in tandem with hers. She moaned, low and deep as he made love to her. He took his right hand and brushed away a strand of dark hair from her face and she turned, pressing her cheek into his palm.
This was making love, he realized. This wasn’t sex or fucking. This was love. This was why sex was called making love. Every thrust of his hips was a way to connect to her. A physical connection of their two bodies, joining to form a new soul.
This was what he had been missing all this time. Sure, fucking was amazing, and he still wanted to fuck Emma’s brains out, but this was different. This was better.
This was love.
His heart ached with the knowledge. He loved her. He loved their life and their future together. This was what all the storybooks meant. This was how Prince Charming ended up being happily ever after with only princess.
“Jackson,” Emma whispered, calling out his name as she arched her back. She was close to orgasm, close to falling off the edge of pleasure that he created.
He pushed harder, giving her the last bit to crest the edge. Her face stilled and her eyes closed into concentration as she came hard on him.
Her internal muscles rolled over him, pulling him inside of her and begging him to come with her. He closed his eyes and followed her into oblivion, letting his body join the ecstasy of his heart. For a single moment, time stood still and all he knew was joy.
The moment ended, but only the physical overwhelming sensation. The love was still there. Emma opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was all she saw as she smiled and cupped his cheek in her hand.
He rolled over and she snuggled into the nook of his arm. Pure contentment washed over him. In this moment, he’d never been happier. He couldn’t imagine feeling happier. It just wasn’t possible. This was more than he could have ever asked for. It was more than he deserved.
“I love you,” Emma whispered, tucking her head into his shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled, her dark eyes sparkling.
He wanted to say the words back. He certainly felt them. But his mouth wouldn’t make the motions. He had spent too many years denying the fact that he was even capable of love. He was a player. Players didn’t love.
So he didn’t say anything. He kissed her forehead and felt guilt creep into his happiness.
Emma sighed softly, but didn’t pull away. Instead she snuggled into him further, her breath coming slower and deeper.
She was almost asleep in his arms. He didn’t dare move. He still wished he could say the words. He wanted to.
“I love you,” she murmured, her voice drifting into sleep. She sighed and stilled in his arms and he knew she was dreaming.
He tried to mouth the words, but even that was too hard. He loved her. He knew it in the depths of his soul, but yet, saying the words wasn’t happening.
He sighed. She would be patient with him, he knew that. She deserved to know how much she meant to him though. She deserved to hear him say it.
In the mountains, he decided. I’ll tell her then. I’ll call it out to the world. It has to be special. I have to make it perfect so she always knows that I love her.
Content now with his decision, he sighed and held her to him. He didn’t sleep, but instead planned of their future and how he would tell her he loved her in a way she would never forget.
Chapter 30
Jackson
* * *
“I don’t have to go,” Jackson told the beautiful woman laying in bed.
Emma rolled over and hugged the bowl closer to her chest.
“And what are you going to do if you stay here? Sit and watch me throw up?” she asked, motioning to the bowl.
Morning sickness had hit her hard. He’d been surprised to learn that it really should be called All Day sickness as it didn’t occur just in the morning. It actually seemed to be worse for Emma right before bed.