The Last Frost

We move together, our bodies finding a natural rhythm, a perfect sync. It’s not frantic, not rushed, but deep and slow and achingly tender. Each thrust is a promise, each kiss a vow.

I look up at him, my heart in my eyes. “Robb,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I…”

He silences me with a kiss, his lips gentle on mine. “I know,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I know, Susannah.”

Tears prick at my eyes, emotion clogging my throat. I bury my face in his neck, holding him tight as we move together, chasing the wave of pleasure building between us.

It hits me like a tsunami, crashing over me, dragging me under. I cry out, my body shuddering, my nails digging into Robb’s back. He follows me over the edge, my name a prayer on his lips as he finds his release inside me.

We collapse together, a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and racing hearts. Robb pulls me close, his arms tight around me, his face buried in my hair.

“Susannah,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “My Susannah.”

I smile, my heart full to bursting. “My Robb,” I murmur back, my eyes drifting closed.

We lie like that for a long time, wrapped in each other, in the warmth of our shared passion. The world outside fades away, until there’s nothing but this, nothing but us.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel truly at peace. Truly home.

Later, back in the familiarity of my kitchen, I watch Robb move with a quiet grace, brewing tea. The morning light spills through the window, glinting off the silver at his temples. I lean against the counter, my heart full, remembering the gentle press of his lips against mine when we woke, the way his hands mapped my body with reverent curiosity.

He turns, catching me staring, and smiles—a slow, knowing curve of his lips that sends warmth unfurling in my belly. “Penny for your thoughts,” he murmurs, crossing the space between us.

I reach for him, my fingers brushing the stubble on his jaw. “Just thinking about how perfectly you fit here,” I say softly. “In this kitchen. In my life.”

Robb’s eyes darken, his hand settling on my hip, anchoring me. “Is that so?” he rumbles, his thumb tracing lazy circles through the thin cotton of my robe. My breath hitches as he dips his head, his lips grazing the sensitive skin beneath my ear. “Because I’ve been thinking about how perfectly you fit in my arms.”

I shiver, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. Our lips meet, a slow, sweet tangling of tongues and breath, and it’s like coming home. He lifts me onto the counter, his hands skimming up my thighs, parting my robe. I gasp as his fingers find me, slick and wanting, his touch tender and sure.

“Robb,” I breathe, my hips rocking into his touch. He groans, his forehead pressed to mine, his breathing ragged.

“Susannah,” he whispers, his voice rough with need. “My beautiful Susannah.”

He worships me with his hands, his lips, his body, until I’m trembling on the edge, my fingers digging into his shoulders. When he finally fills me, it’s with a reverence that brings tears to my eyes, a perfect, gliding rhythm that builds and builds until we shatter together, our cries mingling in the sun-dappled kitchen.

After, wrapped in each other’s arms, we watch through the window as autumn leaves drift down in a lazy dance. The world outside is changing, but here, in this quiet space, we’re exactly where we’re meant to be. A new chapter, a second chance, written in the language of skin and sighs and whispered promises.

“Stay with me,” I murmur into his chest, my lips brushing his heartbeat.

Robb’s arms tighten around me, his voice a warm rumble. “Always,” he vows. “Always.”