“Did it feel good?” he asked carefully, a worried brow creasing his beautiful features.

“Oh . . . yes.”

“Did I hurt you?” The sound of concern in his voice melted me even further.

“Only in the nicest way,” I told him honestly.

The furrow disappeared and a look of relief replaced it. “Oh, thank holy f**k!” He lifted his eyes upward like he was saying a prayer and then trained them back on me, which was absurd, really—thanking heaven for anal sex with an f-bomb declaration of gratitude when I’d given my blessing?

“Because I really want to do it again sometime.” He looked so very relieved, and possibly even a little smug about me. I was glad to have made him happy and comforted to be shown, yet again, how much I could trust Ethan with my heart, and my body. He excelled in taking care of me. I hadn’t really seen just how much he wanted to, and just how good he really was at doing it. Sexually and emotionally.

Ethan was brutally honest about stuff, sometimes so much so I blushed outwardly for his frankness. Inwardly though, I knew it was part of the reason he worked so well for me. I had to laugh a little at him too. Only Ethan could get away with sounding sweet about his hope for more backdoor sex for us and not have it come out crude and harsh.

How in the hell does he do that?

My kinky, foul-mouthed, romantic gentleman lover.

The perfect combination, in my opinion.

“Okay . . .” I told him, and leaned forward for a kiss.

He kissed me for a while in his gentle and precious way, as was typical. I looked forward to the after-sex kissing session. Ethan always wanted to kiss me after, and it always felt like he was making love to me again, only just with his lips and mouth. He pressed into me from above and held me underneath his hard body, his hips settled in between mine, his lips all over me, my lips, my throat, my br**sts. He didn’t stop until he was good and satisfied either.

Ethan knew how to demand from me. And I am quite sure his instincts are just that basic—hardwired primal directives that he cannot help but to answer. I’m sure about him, because it works the same way for me as well. I want to accept him, and submitting during sex is a way to give Ethan those things he asks me for so candidly. It gets me hot too. I love the things he says and asks from me when we’re in the heat of f**king.

He lifted his lips away and looked over me with glassy blue eyes. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes. No . . . it scares me most of the time.” He shook his head idly. “I hate leaving you alone here so much. It’s not right.” He sighed heavily. “I hate it so badly. I get—I just turn into a sort of raving madman, and I hope it’s all not . . . too much. That I’m not too much.” He touched his forehead to mine. “I see you and I just have to be with you like this.” He trailed a hand over my breast and cupped it over the now dried effects of his orgasm, which looked to have been mostly wiped off me at some point. Maybe he’d done it while I dozed. I’d been so out of it from that cataclysmic climax he’d given me, I had no idea.

“Well, I’m not complaining.” I held his face. “I like your version of a madman, if that’s what you call it, and just so you know, I was lonely tonight, missing you and feeling worried about everything, but then you came home looking like you would die if you didn’t have me, and . . . well, it was just what I needed to make me feel better. When I’m alone with my thoughts, I tend to start worrying about things that I shouldn’t. Doubt creeps in. You are the first person to really help me with all the doubt. You just erase it all when you touch me and show me how much you want me.”

He just stared, his eyes wide. “Are you real?” he whispered, brushing up my face with the back of his fingers in a cherishing caress. “Because I’ll want you forever.”

Ethan had asked me that question before and I loved it. “When you say things like that my heart beats faster.”

He put his hand over my left breast and held it there. “I can feel your heart. It’s my heart too.”

I nodded. “It is your heart, and I am very real, Ethan. I’ve wanted everything we’ve ever done together, and you own my heart now.” I touched his face in the same way, just inches apart, drowning in his eyes.

Ethan sighed heavily, but it sounded like one of relief and not of worry. “Come on, my beauty, have a bath with me. I need to wash you and hold you for a while.” He picked me up and carried me into his travertine masterpiece of a bathroom, and helped me into the tub. After he settled in behind me, I stretched back and rested against his firm chest. His arms came around to swirl water up over my br**sts and shoulders.

“I called Benny tonight,” I offered after a moment.

Ethan soaped up a bath sponge and drew it up my arm. “How is Clarkson? Does he want to take more pictures of you?”

“We didn’t talk about that.”

“But he will.” Ethan’s response was nothing new. He didn’t like me modeling, and he really didn’t understand how much I needed it either. I wasn’t in the habit of throwing it in his face because I didn’t want him getting all upset and unreasonable again. Every time I went for a photo shoot he got irrational, so it was easier to just avoid reminding him.

“I think Ben’s getting suspicious, and I’m sure Gaby would be too if she’d seen me in the flesh, but we’ve only spoken on the phone.”

Ethan drew the sponge over my neck. “It’s time to tell them, baby. I want it announced and it has to be something big. I know that much.”

“Big how?”

“London press? Celebrity guests? Posh planning?” I stiffened in his arms. He tightened his hold around me and whispered, “Now, don’t panic, okay? Our wedding has to be an . . . event that will be newsworthy enough so that everyone knows about us.”

“Like the senator?”

“Yes,” he paused, “we think that Fielding is dead too. He’s been missing since the end of May.”

“Oh, God! Ethan, why didn’t you tell me?” I jerked forward and turned halfway around to look at him accusingly.

He tightened his hold around me and pressed his lips to the back of my neck. He was attempting to soothe me, I suppose, and lucky for him his tactics usually worked. Ethan was able to settle me down with just a gentle touch.

“I just got confirmation, and when I first suspected it we were at Hallborough, and you were so desperately sick . . . Don’t be angry. I had to tell Neil about us too. He knows we’re pregnant. And before you get mad about that, you should know he’s very happy for us. You know everything there is to know, Brynne.” He kissed my shoulder. “No secrets.”