Page 50 of His Fire Inside

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“So you felt it too? I wondered, believed it was all in my mind only my heart knew better. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient while my brain caught up to my heart. For loving me, for never giving up on me.”

“Oh that, I never really had a choice. My heart wouldn’t let me.”

Ten Years Later

“Olivia, love of my life, what are you doing?” Rourke sighs into the dark of our bedroom.

“I was just checking to see if you were still alive.” I whisper against the skin of his chest, rubbing my face against his scar.

“So you thought the best way to do that was grab my cock in the middle of the night and squeeze? Not, oh I don’t know, lay your ear against my chest and listen for a heartbeat?” His hand goes around my wrist but I don’t let him go. A gentle squeeze is timed with my kiss along his chest.

With a growl he rolls me under him. The bite on my neck has me opening my legs wide for him. “This is so much better though. Don’t you think?”

“Hmm...you weren’t awake until two hours ago with our daughter who is convinced there’s a fairy in the woods and if she stays up late enough, she will see it. I’m a little worried by how easily she believes everything her older brother tells her.”

“Or maybe we should be more concerned about how often Ben likes to spin stories for Grace and Emma. Also, you have to admit the woods here in France aren’t quite like Austin, it always feels a little magical when we walk through them. I’m sure it’s their way of getting used to living here full time now.” We had been spending the summers here since we first got married until we realized that we weren’t happy with the schools in Austin and none of us looked forward to going back. So we decided to stay full time. It’s been six months, the children love their school and Cheryl came for Thanksgiving and decided the cold wasn’t so bad and she would take us up on the invitation to live with us.

“The only magical thing here is you and how happy you are here.”

“I do love it here but only because it feels like here is where we really started and where I have your full undivided attention.” I press a kiss against his lips.

“All you have to do is ask, my beautiful wife. Your wish is my command.”

“Then make love to me, my beautiful husband.”

So he does, it’s soft, slow, and decadently wicked and every touch, every kiss is bursting with love he whispers to me every day.

Ten years after that

“Olivia, love of my life, what are you doing?” His voice comes sleepily out of the dark of our bedroom.

“Just checking to see if you were still alive and hadn’t died on me in the middle of the night.” I whisper against the scar on his chest as I squeeze gently his cock in my hand.

He sighs, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For loving me. For caring still even twenty years later that I’m still alive.” His voice is heavy with guilt. Last year for the first time our marriage floundered, we floundered. With our oldest off to the Sorbonne while proud there was a squabble over the tiniest of things that became bigger and bigger. Renting Ben an apartment versus buying one we could all stay in and what was too big and if we were spoiling him. Somehow our once calm and peaceful life was filled with daily arguments neither of were willing to give in on. Cheryl had died the year before leaving a hole in our hearts and we realized a role of peacemaker in our marriage. Only the problem was for Cheryl we glossed over the things that troubled us without ever digging deep to truly resolve it. Things got so bad I went to Austin to get some breathing room.

While I was in Austin, it didn’t take a week for me to wake up to the fact I couldn’t stand to be away from my husband. He met me at the airport, his relief as immense as mine. We stayed up that night and talked until we were hoarse. Then we set our terms and sealed our agreement by making the savage, hungry, passionate love we hadn’t made in years.

“Oh that, I never had a choice my heart wouldn’t let it be any other way. Now show me your appreciation.”

“With an invitation it would be rude to do anything else.”

“Indeed.” I whisper against his lips.

Ten years after that

“Olivia, love of my life, what are you doing?” His voice comes out of the dark of our bedroom.

“Just checking to see if you were still alive.” I whisper against the scar of his chest as I gently squeeze his cock in my hand.

“You think you’re so funny. We have to be up in four hours, have you gotten any sleep?”


Tags: Fiona Murphy Romance