Proposing to Preston: The Winslow Brothers #2 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 8) (25 page)

She reached for his face, palming his cheek, and he swept her into his arms.

“I love you,” she said. “Everything I am belongs to you.”

He nodded, placing her gently on the bed and covering her body with his. Elise bent her knees, making a cradle for him between her thighs, and felt the tip of his erection positioned at the entrance of her sex. But instead of plunging forward, as she wanted him to do, he dropped his head and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, his thumb and forefinger gently pinching the other as she writhed beneath him, trying to force him to slide inside of her.

“Please, Pres…” she moaned. “Please, it’s been so long…I want you…”

Leaning up on his elbows he looked down at her face. “I love you.”

Tears sprang into her eyes as he slowly inched forward, his thick heat stretching the walls of her sex and making her gasp in pain at first, then quickly in pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he panted. “It’s been a long time.”

She smoothed her hands down the hot, damp skin of his back, landing on his firm buttocks and digging her fingers into his skin to urge him forward.

“I want all of you,” she murmured, closing her eyes and pressing her head back into the pillow as he slid forward a little more. “I want to feel so full of you that I don’t know where you end and I begin. That’s how I want our marriage to be this time…with us…as one.”

Her words floated away on the last of her exhaled breath and Preston surged forward, burying himself inside of her to the hilt. A strangled groan emerged from his throat and he drew back, his erection sliding against the hot, trembling walls of her sex only to thrust forward again. Elise moaned, a swelling starting in her heart and spilling over into her belly, making her feel warm and full, gathering and building, tightening around him.

“Again,” she panted, and this time as he drew back and pushed forward, she raised her hips off the bed to meet him, and he groaned loudly, the very beginnings of a roar. His arms, which had been bent beside her head, slid under her neck and he crushed her chest with his.

“I dreamed of this,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear, his breathing jagged as his teeth bit down gently on her lobe. “I dreamed every night of you beneath me, sweetheart.”

“I love you, Pres. I love you with everything I am.”

He pulled back and surged forward again, cupping the back of her head tenderly, capturing her eyes with his. The swelling that had started in her heart had turned into a wave of trembling, quivering anticipation, and she whimpered loudly, holding on to his eyes for as long as she could. As he surged forward again, her eyes rolled back in her head and her entire body tightened to the point of rigidity. With a cry of delight, she exploded around him in a million points of pleasure, from the tips of her toes to the on her head, and everywhere in between…and all of it, every last bit of who she was, belonged to him. To Preston. To her husband.

“I love you!” he bellowed, sliding forward one last time and pulsing, hot and vital, into the deepest depths of her body, joining them together in every possible way, from now until the end of their days.

***

Hours later, when they’d made love twice more and showered together, Preston toweled off his wife, then wrapped her in a fluffy white towel, and carried her to their bed. Snuggling beside him, she shimmied out of the towel and pressed her naked back against his naked front. He pulled her against him, his arm over her hip, nestled under her breasts.

She sighed, a sound of pure happiness, and he held her tighter, profoundly aware of the second choice they’d found and taken, and committed to never taking a moment with her for granted.

It was dark in his room, and so quiet, he was sure she’d fallen asleep when he heard her voice, soft and low, say, “Pres?”

“I thought you were asleep.”

She shook her head against the pillow and her hair tickled his nose. “Not yet.”

“You okay?”

“I’m perfect,” she said, “except for one thing.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll fix it for you, I’ll get it for you, I’ll slay it for you, or buy it for you, or barter for it, or beg, borrow, or steal. Tell me what you need, sweetheart, and it’s yours.”

She turned in his arms and faced him, her breasts flush against his chest, her lips a breath away from his.

“I don’t want to be someone I’m not. I’m Elise Winslow. That’s who I am. That’s who I want to be to the whole world.”

“But we decided—”

“Marry me,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief and happiness as she reached for his cheek.

“Did you just propose to me?” he asked, grinning at her, his smile so wide it ached.

“Mm-hm,” she hummed, leaning forward to kiss his lips. “And your answer is…”

Tell me what you need, sweetheart, and it’s yours.

“Yes,” he said. “I’d marry you every day for the rest of my life if it would make you happy.”

“Tomorrow,” she said, invoking his proposal to her, then giggling at his expression. “No. No. Not tomorrow. I’m kidding. But…soon. I don’t care if it looks rushed. I don’t want to sneak around to be with my husband. I want for the whole world to know I’m your wife.”

“How about…two weeks?” he said, beaming at her, loving the idea of renewing their vows in front of both their families. “Do you think we can get them all together?”

“Will yours be willing to travel?” she asked.

“For my wedding? Nothing would keep them away.”

“Lowville?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.

“On the farm,” he agreed. “I love it.”

They were both silent for a moment, staring at each other with goofy, happy smiles, digesting this new turn of events.

“Do you really think it’s possible?” Preston asked. “In two weeks?”

“I’m here in your arms,” she said, leaning forward to kiss him again. Her tongue darted out to play with his, making him thicken and swell all over again. “Anything’s possible. We’ll…”

“…figure it out,” he finished for her. “I love you to the moon and back. Writing it in the stars alone could never be enough.”

“Then write it every day on the fabric of our lives…” she said, borrowing the words that had been spoken at their wedding, “to form a most beautiful tapestry.”

“I promise,” he vowed. “Every day.”

“Me too.”

She kissed him again, and he pressed himself against her, letting her know how much he wanted her again.

“You know what we never said?” she asked, a saucy smile on her lips as she rolled to her back and crooked a finger at him, inviting him to follow. “Happy anniversary, Mr. Winslow.”

“Happy anniversary, Mrs. Winslow,” he answered, covering her body with his and leaning down to kiss his wife. “Happy forever.”

“This is Juliana Rankovic reporting live from the red carpet where we’re about to go inside and find out who will be the next Best Actress winner!”

“Right you are, Juliana. And this has been one exciting race. Powerhouse Amy Adams is here with her sixth Academy Award nomination, Sigourney Weaver with her fourth nomination, and Miranda Richardson and Kiera Knightly each here with their third.”

“Don’t forget my personal favorite, Elise Klassan.”

“I think you mean Elise Klassan-Winslow!” said Brian Fieldcrest, winking at his co-host.

Juliana giggled, nodding at the camera. “That’s right! The entire nation swooned over the story of Hollywood starlet, Elise, falling instantly in love with millionaire Preston Winslow while on location in Philadelphia shooting
The Philly Story
last summer. And that whirlwind wedding after they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks? Talk about
romantic
! Be still my beating heart, Brian!”

“Wasn’t she a beautiful bride? And Juliana, we’re already hearing quite a buzz about
The Philly Story
. But sadly for Elise’s fans, it seems like she and Preston have made New York their home, and from what we understand, Elise is concentrating on her Broadway career for the foreseeable future.”

“Don’t forget, Brian, Elise actually got her
start
on Broadway, co-starring with Maggie Gyllenhaal in
Ethan Frome
three years ago. Now starring in
A Streetcar Named Desire
at the Orpheum, she’s back on top! That girl’s got theater in her blood.”

“It appears so! Now Juliana, have you been hearing those delicious rumors about Elise and Preston starting a family? Her dress tonight sure was roomy, and I have to say…that would be one adorable baby!”

“Give her a break!” said Juliana, chuckling at her co-host. “That was a gorgeous Missoni maxi dress, and one of my top fashion picks of the night. She pulled it off like a charm. Was there a bump under there? Only Elise and Preston know for sure, but I have to agree: Baby Winslow will be a cutie pie. No question about it!”

“Juliana, let’s go back inside the Haywood Auditorium now where Charlize Theron is about to present the award for Best Actress in a Motion Picture…”

The camera panned from the glittering ceiling of the auditorium to the stage where Charlize Theron, dressed in a sparkling, silver-sequined gown, had already greeted the audience, and was introducing the names of the Best Actress nominees.

“…Elise Klassan-Winslow in
The Awakening
, Kiera Knightly in
Mansfield Park
, Miranda Richardson in
Julbilio
, Sigourney Weaver in
What Happened in Krakow
, and Amy Adams in
Once Upon a September
.” The camera panned to each of the actresses in turn, splitting the TV screen with their smiling, expectant faces. “And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to… Amy Adams in
Once Upon a September!
”

The music trumpeted  as the camera remained on each of the other four nominees for an extra moment before zooming in exclusively on Elise Klassan-Winslow, who stared up at her husband’s enamored face, her eyes adoring and her lips tilted up sweetly.

As Miss Adams made her ascent to the stage, the cameras lingered on Elise, watching as her handsome young husband, Preston Winslow, of the Philadelphia Winslows, beamed down at his wife, cupped her cheeks reverently and kissed her.
Really
kissed her, to the delight of every viewer at home. And when Elise finally drew away from him, her eyes sparkled with happiness like she hadn’t just lost the Oscar for Best Actress, but had already won the greatest prize in the world.

THE END

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