Thank you Fyrebyrd, 2brown-eyes, Gabby1017, and Ceceprincess1217 for prereading, and to jayhawkbb for editing. Please remember, I like to fiddle, so all mistakes are mine.

Previously ...

"I believe it is time to retire to our chambers, Isabella," he says huskily.

Chapter 24

Before I am able to form a reply, he rests my hand on his elbow and guides me through the crowd. We wave our goodbyes as we pass Alice and Jasper, and I manage to embrace Rosalie before we reach the door. But before we can make our escape, Esme pulls us aside, intent on introducing me to the wife of a commanding officer in Iredale's army.

Edward stands patiently at my side as his mother makes the introductions. But even he cannot bear it for too long.

"Mother," he says, interrupting the queen and placing a warm hand over my belly, "Isabella is tired from the festivities tonight. I really must see her to her chambers."

"Oh, yes. I am terribly sorry." She turns to me. "Will I see you at morning prayers?"

I nod and open my mouth to speak, but before any words can leave my lips, Edward replies for me.

"If she is feeling rested enough." He leans down and places a kiss on Esme's cheek. "And thank you for tonight. I am sure it is a celebration people will remember for years to come."

Her eyes light up at the compliment. "Thank you, son." She looks to me and back to Edward. "Thank you both."

We nod our goodbyes and make our exit. As we walk side by side, the tension between us is evident. The heat we generated in the Great Hall simmers under the surface as we navigate the corridors back to my chambers in silence. Edward opens my door, and I walk past him toward the fire. With a racing heart, I lower myself onto the settee with every intention of removing my slippers. But when I hear the click of the lock, I fold my hands upon my lap and stare into the flames instead, nervous about what may come next. It has been far too long since we have indulged in the joys of the flesh. Edward, meanwhile, stands at the door, his arms folded across his chest, watching me.

"I do not think I have ever eaten so much in all my life." My voice wavers under his watchful eye.

He hums and pushes off the door, taking slow steps toward me. "Isabella."

I chance a glance up at him and drop my eyes quickly to the floor. His piercing gaze burns a hole through me, and I begin to squirm. "I have surely never seen so much food." I raise my foot to remove my slipper.

Before I can untie a single lace, Edward is before me. I watch, wide-eyed, as he drops to his knees. "Isabella," he repeats, "do you truly wish to speak of the food?"

"I—" My mouth snaps closed as he takes one of my feet into his hands, loosening the laces of each slipper and removing them.

"So, you enjoyed yourself tonight?" His voice breaks through the daze of watching him at my feet.

"I did," I say, clearing my throat, meeting his eyes. "I had a wonderful time. I fear all of my anxiety was for nothing."

"As I told you it would be." His hand begins to rub a soothing pattern around my foot.

I lay my head back on the settee and close my eyes. "I do not think I have ever danced so much in one evening. I am guessing I danced with every man there tonight, except perhaps your father. Though, after knowing how he truly feels about me, I am not surprised he did not wish to dance with me."

He pauses in his ministrations. "Yes, well, that, and he is not exactly one for celebrations."

I cannot stop the laugh that bubbles out of me. I cover my mouth and mumble an apology. "I am sorry." I look down at my husband, contrite. "Truly, I am, but I already could guess your father is not one to indulge in too much wine or music or dancing."

"It would seem you've already taken the measure of him," he says, an amused grin on his face. He reaches for my face and pushes back a few errant hairs from my eyes.

I clear my throat and attempt to focus on our conversation. "I have. He is just so ... serious."

He searches my eyes, a serious look in his own. "Underneath it all, my father is a good man. He may be cold, severe even, but he has good intentions. He took the throne a very long time ago, when he was barely a man, so he was molded into the thinker he is by his advisors, calculating each and every measured step before he takes it. And I think sometimes he forgets that not every decision he makes will have life-altering consequences."

"Like dancing?"

He smiles a gentle smile and nods. "Like dancing."

When he begins rubbing at the sore arch of my foot, my eyes fall closed and I groan from the sensation. His hands still, but only for a moment.

"That feels divine," I whisper. His touch leaves fire in its wake as it moves from my foot and travels up my calf. When he begins massaging the tight muscles there, my eyes flutter open to lock with his.

As his gaze burns into mine, his fingertips move up my legs, dancing upon the skin just above my knees. He slowly rises up and leans in for a kiss. When his lips touch mine, his kiss is unhurried, languid at first, but full of so much promise for things to come. As the kiss increases in intensity, so does the need to have him in my arms, in my bed. My pulse quickens, and my breaths come faster, all while his hands move to draw me closer to him.

He pulls away, leaving me breathless, and rises to his feet. He towers over me, and his searing gaze pins me in place. Hovering over me, he rests a palm on the back of the settee. His free hand moves to my neck and brushes my hair aside. Warm and wet lips make contact with my skin, and the want I have for this man swells inside me. I close my eyes and relish the feeling.

His breath warms my already-heated flesh as he speaks. "Do you care to show me to your bedchamber, wife?"

Nerves I have not felt since our first night together assault my belly. My eyes blink open at the reminder.

My belly.

While I have shared a bed with him many nights since his return home, some even without my shift, he has made no move to claim me as his wife. And while he may enjoy resting his hands on our growing child as we sleep, going to my bed the way I believe he intends is another matter entirely.

"What is it?" he asks softly. His thumb gently brushes along my jaw. "I can see something troubles you." He lowers himself to the seat beside me and cradles my cheek in his hand. "Do you not wish for me to share your bed tonight?"

My eyes are downcast, and my voice is low. "We've shared a bed nearly every night since your return."

He carefully nudges my chin until my eyes meet his. "You know what I mean, Isabella." He leans closer and rests his forehead to mine, his lids falling closed. "I want my wife," he whispers.

"As I want my husband," I admit, my voice hushed. "But …"

He pulls away, his hand falling away and leaving my skin cool in its absence. "But what?"

I look down. The protrusion of my belly between us is obvious, and the babe within makes his presence known in the form of a kick. "I am—"

"You are beautiful." Again, he tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his heated stare. "And it has been far too long since I felt the pleasure your body can give me."

"You still want me that way?"

"More than you could possibly know."

"Then why …"

"Why what?"

My voice drops to a whisper. "Why have you not taken me since you returned home?" I am suddenly embarrassed, asking such a question of him.

"Did you not think I wanted to?"

I shake my head. "No."

"And why not?"

My cheeks heat. "Because I have slept beside you for over a month, and you've not yet touched me that way. Not even as I slept bare did you attempt to take me as a husband should. I thought it may be because I am not … the same. The child I carry has made me—"

"Unbelievably more beautiful to me, as I've already told you." His eyes search mine. He reaches up to move another errant curl from my face. "Truthfully, I've wanted you since the day I came home. But I wanted to make sure I was healed, that I was the man you deserve before I shared your bed that way."

This time, I am the one to reach out and hold his face in my hands. "You are and always will be the man I deserve. Most days it is I who feel unworthy."

"Never," he murmurs before crashing his lips to mine, devouring me where I sit. He surrounds me, and with no warning, he sweeps me into his arms. He lifts me from the settee as if I weigh nothing at all and carries me through the doorway leading to my bedchamber.

He places me on my feet, just an arm's reach from the bed, but his mouth never leaves mine. Months of separation, need, and want come pouring out of him as he struggles to disrobe me, and his hands quickly get tangled in the complicated laces at the back of my dress.

"A bit eager, are we?" I ask against his lips, breathless.

"You might say that. It has been far too long." He finally gives up fighting with my dress and spins me around. "As beautiful as you are in this gown, I would much prefer to see it on the floor."

"I'd forgotten how insatiable you could be, husband." I turn to look over my shoulder at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

He gives the last lace a good tug, freeing me from the confines of my gown. He leans in, whispering in my ear. "If you believe me to have been insatiable when we were first wed, just wait until it is not tent flaps separating us from prying eyes and ears, but stone walls." He wraps his arms around me impossibly tighter. "I believe my appetite for you will become"—his nose skims along my neck, his hot breath wafting over the sensitive skin there—"absolutely ravenous."

The familiar sensations he's invoking in me are nearly overwhelming, and I soon lose the fight to close my eyes. We stand in the center of my bedchamber as his hands explore the new softness of my body gently, reverently, and I give myself over to the pleasure.

"I've missed you," he murmurs into my ear. "So very much."

"As I've missed you."

No more words are spoken. Only the soft rustling of fabric can be heard as he begins to remove the layers of his own clothing, and all the while his touch never leaves me. A soft thud signals the removal of his scabbard as it hits the floor, and once he is divested of his weapon, he turns me in his arms.

His eyes search mine, and I see so much emotion shining back at me, it steals my breath. "Do you know how long I've dreamed of having you back in my arms like this?"

I shake my head as he pulls me closer to his chest.

"A very long time," he whispers just before he tilts my chin up, his lips meeting mine. Not breaking the kiss, he reaches down and once again sweeps me into his arms. He takes just a few steps toward my bed—our bed—and I am laid in the pile of quilts, soft linens, and furs. I watch in rapt fascination as he peels off the last of his clothing, leaving him bare before me. Much like the first night we spent as man and wife, he crawls onto the mattress and toward me, his now strong and healthy form hovering over me.

The firelight dances over the surface of his skin, and for a moment, I cannot see the scars marring his body. But as I reach out and touch him, my fingertips brush over the raised flesh, reminding me what he endured to return to me.

He gently removes my hand from him and brings it to his lips for a kiss. "None of my dreams could even compare to the vision you are, Isabella." He places my spread hand over the center of his chest, over his pounding heart. "I …" His words fail him, but I can see on his face and in his eyes the overpowering emotions surging through him.

I reach toward him with my free hand, holding his stubbled cheek in my palm. "I know."

He descends on me then, his body covering mine as he wraps around me, gingerly navigating around the child between us. Silently, his hands roam, searching out my skin and preparing my body for his. My arousal slicks his fingers as they glide against my overly sensitive flesh. It takes only a moment for him to decide I am ready, and he slowly pushes inside me.

We both gasp at the feeling of being joined after being apart for so very long. Neither of us moves—we just cling tightly to each other.

"Gods in heaven." His groan vibrates against my neck. "I'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be inside you."

He kisses the skin of my neck, and I nod my head fervently. "I know. I know."

No more words are spoken as he grasps my legs and wraps them around his middle. He moves over me slowly, deeply, making me feel things I'd long forgotten about. His hands search out mine, and when he finds them, he intertwines our fingers, resting them on the pillow beneath my head.

Even though it has been many months since we have been together this way, our bodies move as if we'd never been apart. Already familiar, we move together as one, each of us breathing in what the other breathes out.

When his eyes finally meet mine, the intensity there pulls at something deep in my chest. His description of himself—saying he would be ravenous—is apt. It has been many months since I've seen such a hungry look in his eyes.

One of his hands moves beneath me, cupping my bottom and holding me firmly to him, all while his lips never leave mine. It does not take long for the pleasure to build. When his free hand moves to brush against where we are joined, I let out a moan of my own. Unlike the many times we coupled during our short time together while we journeyed to Galon, there is no fear of his men or anyone else hearing us. I cry out as the pleasure washes over me like a crashing wave of the sea, and he follows soon after.

With a thundering heart, I melt into his embrace as he rolls to his back, pulling me to his side. Our breathing slows, and the chilled air blowing through unseen cracks of the stone castle cools our overheated skin.

Several minutes pass in silence, and I glance up at my husband. The expression on his face can only be described as blissful. It has been far too long since I've seen him so content.

When his bright green eyes meet mine, the heat in my cheeks rises at being caught watching him. His grin tells me he finds it amusing.

"What?" I ask, looking up at him.

He shakes his head and kisses my temple. "Nothing, wife. Nothing at all."

I settle into his side, nuzzling against the warmth of his chest and closing my eyes. "I've missed this."

"Hmm." He kisses the top of my head and strokes a hand lazily up and down my back. The feeling is soothing, comforting in a way I'd forgotten, as we lie skin to skin.

Before his touch can lull me to sleep, a flutter of movement in my belly seizes my attention. "Oh!"

"What?"

I grab his hand and place it on the side of my belly. "Just here."

He complies, and his hand rests over the swell of my abdomen. His smile is wide. "He is active tonight." His eyes meet mine. "He must be happy, safe and protected inside his mother." He kisses my forehead. "Feels strong, too."

I nestle closer to him in his arms and wrap my own around him. His heart beats a steady rhythm as I lay my head upon his chest. "So, you wish for a son?" I whisper.

"I wish for my child to be born hale and hearty." He tilts my chin up to meet his stare. "And for my beautiful wife to be able to give me more children. To ask the Gods for more would be greedy." He tucks me under his chin, closer still, and kisses the top of my head. "We have already asked so much of them."

We lie together in silence, his hand still resting over our child, my arms wrapped around him. I reach up and run my fingers through his hair, and his eyes close.

Even like this, content and relaxed, I can see he is once again distracted, a worry line between his brows.

"What troubles you?" I ask softly.

"I am worried about what is to come," Edward whispers. He removes my hand from his hair and kisses it, placing it on his chest. Besides our breathing and murmured words, the snap and pop of the fire is the only other sound in the room.

I tilt my head up and peer into his now-open eyes. "I am sure every man in the kingdom is worried for what is to come. But I truly do not wish to dwell on it too much." I shake my head and place a kiss on his chest before laying my head upon it. "I fear it will be a trial I am not ready to face." My hand moves to cover his where it still rests on the side of my belly.

He holds me tightly and kisses the top of my head. We lie in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. I know by the way he idly plays with the ends of my hair he is distracted, his mind elsewhere. And when he speaks, I understand why.

"I do not know what we are to face, or when, but I fear I will be asked to leave your side when the time comes." He shifts to his side so we are lying face to face. "I know my father will send me and our men to the battlefield, and I worry my hesitance to leave you and our child will be seen as disloyalty to my king."

"But you know you must go," I whisper.

"I do. But still ..." He shakes his head. "If it were up to me, I would—" He cuts off his own whispered words before gazing at me as I lay in his arms. "I do not wish to leave you and my son or daughter here while war wages beyond the walls of the city. And if those walls were to be breached, I fear that I would leave my post and all my men behind to assure your safety." He cradles my face in his hand. "If I were faced with such a choice—whether to stay with my men or leave them to be by your side—I fear my father may be rather ... displeased with my choice."

"You would disobey your king to be by my side?"

"The very idea that I would even consider it is practically treasonous, but I do not know if I would be able to stay away."

The way he is looking at me, the earnestness in his eyes, nearly takes my breath away. I am unfamiliar with the emotions I am feeling. No one—not a single person in my life— has ever made me feel the things I do when I look at him, when he holds me in his arms, or when he is merely near. To know he would sacrifice so much to keep me safe and protected, to be with me, is almost too much to bear.

"But why?" I whisper.

He cradles my cheek in his hand, his green eyes searing into mine. "Because I love you, Isabella."

My heart pounds at his admission. "You love me?"

He smiles. "I think I have loved you since I first heard you speak. That sharp-witted girl stole my heart, and I have not since been the same. As I told you before that horrible night when I was taken, I cannot imagine the rest of my life without you in it."

The memory of the many months I spent without him flashes through my mind, making my heart clench, and I realize something I may have known all along. My life up until I met him was void of the one thing I am now sure I feel for my husband.

"I ... I love you too, Edward."

My quiet admission is cut off with a passionate kiss as he rolls me to my back, caging me in his arms. Our fingers lace together over my head as he finds his way between my legs. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say the words, Isabella." His lips move to my neck as he enters me, words of love whispered against my skin. He moves slowly, carefully, as if I am the most precious thing in his world. He is always careful with me, but this time feels different. This time, I know I am loved, and I love in return.

A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts on their finally reconnecting and those ILYs. Took them long enough, didn't it? ;)

The Babies at the Border Fiction Compilation successfully raised over $7000, meaning more than $25,000 has been raised in total for both this year's and last year's fundraisers. I can only hope our efforts aren't needed next year. Thank you to all who donated. Xoxo

I have recs this week!

I just finished a really cute holiday story, A Home for the Holidays by CullensTwiMistress. It's an Olderward story ... much older. Summary: Bella's roommate, Kate, offers her a place to stay during Christmas break. Unfortunately for Bella, Kate's dad is kind of hot. Attraction, UST, and a meddling daughter may just bring these two together.

And a current WIP I need to catch up on ... The Butterfly & The Hawk by PearlyFox. Summary: She was my butterfly, twirling in the night, where she didn't belong. I was under her spell, I craved to see her. I ached to meet her.

And remember, for exclusive weekly teasers and pics, be sure to check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics! You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. 'See' you all soon!

Lots of love

~Sunshine