Home > When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(57)

When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(57)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“No, though I’m shocked she survived the cut to the throat.” Sofia shook her head, casting her gaze to the floor. “I am sorry that she will always be unhappy, but not sorry she got exactly what she deserved.”

“As did you.”

“Yes, I received you.”

“And a castle,” Ash pointed out. “As well as all your father’s wealth, a relative kingdom in its own right, an earl, my riches—”

“Your riches?”

“Oh yes, about that. I’m quite wealthy.”

“Good thing I married you.”

“Isn’t it, though?” He kissed her forehead then ripped the blanket from her body.

“Ash!” She gasped. “Someone will see.”

“We’ve employed three of Hunter’s staff. Believe me when I say, they have seen it all, poor sods.”

“Ash!” Her voice screeched.

“My dear, you forgot the other half of the plan.”

Her eyes narrowed, and then, with a smirk, she ran up the stairs. The sound of doors slamming was the only indication that she was searching for the room with the lit fireplace. The only room that had been cleaned.

Feeling sorry for her, considering there were fifteen bedrooms in all, Ash slowly ascended the stairs and paused when she clicked open the correct door and looked back at him with a saucy grin. “Are you ready for your prize?”

His body hummed with excitement as he slowly, methodically stalked toward her. When he reached the room, he slammed the door behind him and leaned against it and watched.

Sofia maneuvered herself out of the dress — what was left of it — and crooked her finger in his direction.

“I imagine I should collect my winnings now.” Ash crossed his arms. “Then again, I’m enjoying the view far too much to move just yet.”

Sofia blushed to the roots of her hair and then placed her hands on her naked hips.

Ash followed her hands, his gaze taking in every ounce of bare skin. “Care to twirl for me, darling?”

“Twirl?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “At least twice, I need to get every angle, you understand…”

Her eyebrows arched. “Oh really? For what purpose?”

“For the purpose of creating a complete mental image of perfection.”

“Pretty words.”

“Yes, well, I’ve been practicing those.” He pushed away from the door. “Pretty words, big words, words that sound intelligent, words that cause clothes to give up and fall from my wife’s body.”

She let out a giggle. “Playful little assassin in the bedroom. I would have never thought.”

“Nor I,” he said honestly. “Now twirl.”

“And commanding.”

“Do not make me ask three times.”

“Why?” Voice husky, she jutted out her hip. “Will there be a punishment?”

“Guess you’ll just have to test me to find out.”

Slowly, she turned, but only halfway, so her backside was facing him. The curve of her body was something from a painting.

He let out a groan and managed to make it a few more steps before his hands were bracing her hips from behind.

She leaned her soft body against his.

“Too many clothes, husband.”

“We can remedy that.” He began undressing. “But stay put.”

She shivered.

And he removed his clothes faster than he thought humanly possible. When he reached for her again, it was just them, body to body, skin to skin. His blood hummed with excitement — with need.

Years. It had been years since he’d been naked with a woman.

But this was a first.

He had a feeling of completeness by simply standing next to her, their bodies brushing against one another, creating the softest friction. The greatest pleasure imaginable.

“Ash?” Sofia’s head tilted back, resting against his shoulder as she peered up and kissed his chin. “This would be enough… if it was just us, standing like this, for the rest of our lives. It would be enough.”

Emotion clogged his throat. He took her mouth with a vengeance, sucking every inch of passion out of her, replacing it with his own. She tasted of wine, berries, of beauty.

She turned in his arms.

He wasted no time, lifting her into the air, wrapping her legs around his waist.

With a huff, he pulled her onto the bed, hovering over her, kissing every inch of skin then repeating the process until he was dying with the need to fill her, the need to truly make them one.

“Ash—” Sofia gasped, her hands clenching the satin sheets. “Please.”

When they joined—

He nearly blacked out.

After ten years of being numb, of closing himself off from the world… he finally experienced a fullness that only comes with finding one’s soul mate.

Sofia’s nails dug into his back.

Sweat poured from his brow as he tried to savor the moment — but it was over too soon.

“Ten years.” She laughed against his neck.

“Yes,” he growled. “And I get an eternity to make up for it.”

“We do.”

“Together.” His forehead touched hers.

A tear slid down her cheek. “Thank you… for rescuing me.”

“I did nothing of the sort. I imagine you rescued yourself and just allowed me to ride in the carriage.”

“I love you, my soldier.”

“And I you, my princess.”

EPILOGUE

AND SO THE STORY goes.

Rosalind and Stefan found their Happily Ever After in an arranged marriage and family curse.

Isabelle and Dominique moved forward, though the scars of the past tried to keep their happiness at bay.

Gwen and Hunter allowed themselves to fight with one another rather than against.

And Sofia and Ash discovered that sometimes true love means letting go of what one has held onto for so long — and letting love consume all.

And the best part? They all lived happily ever after. After all, they believed in the fairytale, and it had come true.

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