His Secrets

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With a swipe of my hand, I complete the final touches of the dragon on Sara’s shoulder in equal parts red, blue, yellow, and green. The painting is finally finished.

“Done,” I murmur, glancing up at her, where she sits naked on a wood and leather bench. She’s the woman I love, whom I asked to marry me only hours before. I would have sworn I would never love like this, never risk loss, but I can no longer imagine life without Sara. I don’t even want to try.

“Already?” she asks, brushing her long dark hair over her shoulders, her naked breasts and creamy white skin a nearly irresistible temptation. “Really?”

My lips curve. “I’m fast when I’m inspired.” And Sara definitely inspires me.

She blushes, a contradiction to the woman who has let me spank her and do all kinds of naughty things to her. She’s adorable, sexy, and hot. Really fucking hot.

Standing up, she slips on the pale pink silk robe she’d taken from her luggage earlier, when we’d explored the castle that was once my parents’ Parisian country home. Now it will be one of our homes. It is ours. Everything I have is hers.

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