1919

"Grace, my love, are you asleep?"

"No."

It was their wedding night. In a little church in the French countryside they had finally been married earlier that day. It was six months to the day since their children had been born. Down the corridor, in the little nursery in the white painted crib the twins slept side by side.

He leant forwards a little, burying his face in the blond hair falling down the back of her neck.

"Sweetheart."

His hand clasped with hers, feeling the cold of her wedding ring touching the inside of his fingers. He turned his head inwards, planting his lips softly on the back of her neck, making her shiver.

"Are you happy, my darling?" he asked her quietly.

"I'm ecstatic, Roland," she whispered in reply, shifting a fraction closer towards him.

"You don't regret it?"

He held his breath as he asked the question. She had sacrificed so much for him. She had lived with him and born his children unmarried while he sorted out his divorce from Hetty. She had given up the country she'd spent four year fighting for rather than make their children grow up as outcasts.

"No. Not a single minute. I've waited for this for so long."

The small bedroom they shared in the French farmhouse where they lived now seemed to swell with love at her words. He gave a contented sigh, leaning in towards the warmth she gave off a little more closely.

"So have I," he replied, caressing the curve of her neck and the top of her shoulder with his thumb, "I've been waiting for this since the moment I saw you."

"Exactly this?" she asked, turning around a little, craning her neck towards him.

"Mmm," he agreed, pressing his lips to hers to kiss her, "Exactly this."

She narrowed her eyes at him in the dark.

" I don't believe you," she told him lightly, "I think you just wanted to kiss me."

This said, she obliged his wish.

"I wanted to marry you," he insisted, pressing his lips to hers again, "I've always loved you, Grace."

He felt her smile irrepressibly. He nuzzled his face against hers.

"You've given me so much," he whispered to her.

"I've given up nothing that I wasn't willing to. Nothing that meant anything to me compared to you. You're the father of my children," she replied, "My husband," relishing the word that she could say at last, "Why would I want to do anything else?"

"Do you think they're asleep?" he asked her quietly.

"Thomas took a little while to settle," she replied, "You know how he is."

"Yes. What about Edith?"

"She was fine. She will be alright for the night, I think, if her brother doesn't wake her up."

"We'll have to be very quiet, then," his hand caressed her stomach softly, "But it is our wedding night-..."

"Oh, darling-..." she whispered. Her hand clasped over his on her stomach, and she craned her neck to meet his lips again, "Could we-... like this?"

"You mean with me behind you?"

"Yes."

"Of course," he replied, kissing the side of her face, "Whatever you want, my love."

His lips lingered at the base of her neck. His hands caressed her breasts, one of his fingers slowly trailing down between her legs to excite her. She arched her back and pressed against his arousal.

"Oh, Grace."

He hugged her tightly to him, his chest pressing against her back.

"Roland."

Lifting one of her legs to rest on top of his, he opened her, slipping inside her, touching her breasts. He heard her gasp quietly.

"Oh sweetheart." He loved her so much, he felt so much when he was with her like this that he wanted to weep.

His hand clasped her shoulder tightly as he moved gently inside her and she gave a little keen. The heat between their bodies was incredible as he thrust smoothly into her.

"You have no idea what you make me feel," he told her, his voice hoarse from longing, "You have no idea how much you make me feel."

"I do," she told him softly between panting breaths as he pushed into her again, "It's how you make me feel too."

"Oh, Grace-..."

"Roland! Roland-..." he covered her mouth with his hand to stop her shouting his name.

Muffling his groan into the back of her neck, he felt himself finish too. He held her body tightly against his, embracing her as their hearts raced and they fought to regain control of their breathing.

"Oh, my darling. My angel."

"No, Roland," her voice trembled a little as she spoke, "I have no regrets."

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