Page 95 of Disavowed

Dom’s last thrusts were powerful, shoving her up the mattress as he came inside her. “Daisy. Oh, sweet Jesus.”

Still pressing down on her, he kissed her neck once more, then her mouth, her chin, and her eyes. When their gazes met, his love shined with such honesty, it took her breath away.

For the third time since the day they’d met, Daisy fell in love with the same man.

…

Through the sheer curtains, Dom watched the remnants of the city’s pink sunset filter into the bedroom. True to her nature, Daisy had fallen into a deep sleep with her arm thrown over his chest and her head snuggled against his neck. The flowery scent he inhaled was as much a part of her as her flower shop.

They’d gotten so hot after a second round of love-making they both lay naked on top of the covers. The sleekness of her smooth back and the rounded curves of her buttocks drew his attention. There wasn’t one part of her that he didn’t love to touch or taste or kiss, but what he loved most was her beautiful heart and her fiery spirit. She’d never take shit from him, and he loved that, too.

Being careful not to wake her, he lovingly skimmed his fingers over her shoulder, reveling in the softness. It still amazed him that after the hell she’d lived through as a child, then what he’d put her through—emotional and physical—she still loved him. She’d been the one for him all along. The only one who could bring him back from the dead and get his heart going again. Emotional CPR. He’d needed it in spades.

Making love with her both humbled and empowered him, and coming inside her was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever experienced. He was more alive than he’d been in a very, very long time. With her, he realized, he was a better man.

On the floor beside the bed, Taz lay curled into a little black ball on top of his jeans. He’d actually had a condom tucked into the wallet in his rear pants pocket, although he hadn’t wanted to use it. Because he wanted a family. With Daisy.

He glanced at the closed drawer of the bedside table. Inside was a blue velvet box he’d stashed there before falling asleep on her bed. When he’d woken to find her watching him, the shocked then wary look on her face had scared him to death. For a minute there, he’d nearly broken out in a cold sweat for fear that she wouldn’t take him back. She didn’t know it, but he would have groveled at her feet for the rest of his life if she hadn’t. He ached for her that badly.

Reaching out, he opened the drawer and pulled out the box. In the event he really had gotten Daisy pregnant, he fully intended to make an honest woman of her.

“Sweetheart.” He stroked the top of her head. “Wake up. I want to ask you something.”

“What?” she murmured against his chest.

His gut tightened with apprehension, and he took a deep breath. Even though she’d said she loved him, he took nothing for granted. There was every chance she’d need time to think about it, or flat-out say no.

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. Whiskey-colored eyes stared at him. Her mouth gaped at the sight of the box in his hand. “What did you say?”

He knelt on the floor beside the bed. After opening the lid, he held the diamond-studded engagement ring out to her, and with his heart thudding in his chest, repeated his question. “Will you marry me?”

She clamped her mouth shut. Her lips trembled, and she nodded. Slowly at first, then more vigorously. “Yes,” she whispered, smiling as the most beautiful tears ran down her cheeks. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

He tugged the ring from its velvet cushion, then took her left hand in his. He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed it. When he lifted his gaze to hers he saw everything he needed reflected in the depths of her eyes. Love. And his future.

His gut tightened at the overwhelming emotion welling inside him. He couldn’t believe this exquisite beauty—the woman of his dreams—had agreed to be his. “You’re everything to me. And I want to be everything to you. I swear I’ll make you happy.”

“You already have,” she said in a trembling voice, then reached out to stroke his cheek, urging him back onto the bed.

As he lowered her to the mattress he entered her, thrusting deeply until she clung to him, crying out his name. And afterward, as he lowered his head to her chest, the wetness on his cheeks was his own.

No longer were either of them disavowed. No longer would either of them be alone. Because they had each other.

Now and forever.