BROKEN COURAGE (Broken Redemption Book 3)

Chapter 67

Lucas

Emilia moves over me, her body soft and fluid. But it's the look on her face that holds me captive—the way her lips part on a quiet gasp, the flush spreading across her chest, the unguarded emotions shimmering in her eyes as she looks at me. It's overwhelming. Enough to nearly undo me. Fighting back the primal need threatening to consume me, I slide my hands up her thighs, gripping her hips, trying desperately to anchor myself. But it's no use. She owns me—heart, soul, and everything in between—and I wouldn't change a damn thing.

She's perfection. My wife. My goddamn miracle.

Her hands brace against my torso for balance, and I'm helpless but to watch her, utterly transfixed. God, she's stunning. Her hair spills over her shoulders in a cascade of dark waves, her skin glowing like molten gold in the dancing firelight. Suddenly, the space between us—mere inches of air—feels like a canyon.

"Emilia," I groan, my voice rough and stripped of all pretense.

I can't bear the distance, so I sit up. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her flush against me. She gasps, a soft, broken sound that hits me straight in the chest, her fingers threading into my hair as I capture her mouth. The kiss isn't gentle or sweet. It's hungry, consuming, a collision of need and devotion that leaves us both trembling and gasping for breath.

Her movements falter, and I guide her, my hands firm on her hips as we find a rhythm together. The intensity building, raw and unstoppable. She cups my face, her gaze locking with mine, and what I see in her eyes wrecks me—love, trust, hope. All of it so openly and vulnerably displayed... all of it for me.

"I love you," I rasp, the words breaking free and laden with every unspoken emotion I can't put into words.

Her lips part, trembling as she whispers back, "And I love you."

That's all it takes. When we shatter, it's like the world implodes. Her body trembles against me, her forehead dropping to meet mine as her cries fill the room. I hold her tighter, consumed by desperation as I thrust into her one last time, chasing relief in her tight, wet heat. And when it finally comes, I bury my face in her neck as a choked sound escapes from my chest. The release is overwhelming and raw. Like every buried emotion has finally broken free, pouring out of me into her—into us—leaving me vulnerable, laid bare, and irrevocably hers.

We cling to each other through the aftershocks, trembling and breathing each other in. She brushes her lips over my shoulder, and I press a kiss to her damp temple, my hands roaming over her back, unable to stop myself. I need the reassurance, the certainty that this is real, that she's here in my arms where she belongs.

This moment—this connection—it's so much more than love or lust. It's redemption. A promise. A second chance I never deserved but will never stop fighting for. One I'll honor with every ounce of strength that I have because she's worth it. We're worth it.

A few minutes later, Emilia rests beside me, her head nestled against my chest, the warmth of her body seeping into me like a balm. Our breaths have evened out, but my heart races on as if it's still trying to grasp the enormity of this day. I trail my fingers along her back, drawing small, lazy patterns against her skin. She sighs, her body melting deeper into me, and for a moment, I finally understand what peace truly feels like.

But then it hits me—the wedding gift. The one I spent weeks looking forward to giving to her, and somehow, in the chaos of the day, I completely forgot. My chest tightens, anticipation swelling inside me. I press a kiss to her temple, lingering just long enough to feel her pulse flutter against my lips before easing out from under her.

She stirs, her brows pinching in confusion as her eyes flutter open, soft and sleepy. "Lucas?"

"Hold on, sweetheart," I tell her, already heading toward the chair where my tuxedo jacket hangs. My fingers fumble through the pocket, searching for the small box. When they finally close around it, relief floods me, though it's quickly followed by an unexpected nervous energy.