CHAPTER 73: OFFICIALLY MINE

The morning sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting pale golden light across the bedroom. The air was warm, still heavy with the scent of last night—lavender from the bath, mixed with something entirely them now.

Ella stirred slowly, eyes fluttering open, disoriented for a moment before the weight of an arm draped over her waist anchored her back into reality.

Nicholas.

His hand was splayed protectively across her stomach, holding her against his chest, his body radiating heat along her back. The deep, even rise and fall of his breathing brushed warm air across her shoulder, stirring a mixture of butterflies and peace low in her belly.

For the first time in forever, waking up didn’t feel like a battle.

She should’ve moved. She should’ve untangled herself, maybe gone to freshen up—but she didn’t want to. Not yet. Not when he was holding her like this, like she was something treasured, something his.

As if sensing her thoughts, Nicholas shifted, his nose brushing against the curve of her neck. "Mmm," he hummed, his voice thick with sleep, gravelly and warm. "Morning,love."

"Morning," she whispered, her cheeks flushing.

He gave a small, content sigh, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder before nuzzling in again like he had no plans of letting her go anytime soon. His arm tightened slightly around her middle, grounding her.

"I could get used to this," he murmured.

Ella swallowed. "Used to what?"

"This," he breathed. "Waking up with you like this. Holding you. Feeling your heartbeat under my hand."

A flutter moved through her chest. She closed her eyes, soaking in the way his hand splayed protectively across her belly like it belonged there.

"You sleep well?" he asked, brushing her hair away from her neck to press another kiss there.

"I did," she admitted softly. He smiled against her skin, pleased. "Good. You deserve that."

For a while, they just lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, letting the newness of this settle over them. This wasn’t just waking up after spending the night together. This meant something. Something she couldn’t put words to yet—but she felt it.

Then, lazily, his hand started to drift. Soft, slow circles against her stomach, his fingertips whispering along her skin in a way that made goosebumps rise instantly.

Ella tensed, but not from discomfort. It was anticipation.

"You know what I just realized?" he murmured, lips curling at the edge of her ear.

"What?" she breathed.

Nicholas leaned in closer, his voice deep and smooth with amusement. "We’ve officially consummated our marriage now."

Ella’s cheeks went hot, and she buried her face in the pillow, groaning. "Nick—"

He chuckled, absolutely delighted by her embarrassment. "What? It’s true. You’re officially mine now."

She gave his wrist a playful slap. "I was yours before that."

"Maybe," he whispered, his voice darkening deliciously, "but now you really are. And you’re not allowed to leave. Ever."

A soft laugh bubbled out of her, but Nicholas rolled them over gently until she was on her back, his body hovering above hers, that familiar, teasing smirk on his lips.

His hair was mussed from sleep, his jaw rough with faint stubble, eyes still heavy with drowsy affection—but good God, he was beautiful.

"You don’t get it," he murmured, brushing her hair off her forehead with a tenderness that made her chest ache. "You’re not going anywhere. Not after last night. Not after this."

His eyes searched hers like he was trying to memorize her.

"You’re my wife," he whispered. "Mine."

There was no threat in his tone, only a fierce kind of protectiveness, a possession born of love and longing, not control. And hearing it in his sleepy morning voice sent a rush of warmth straight to her heart.

His hand slid up her ribcage, fingers spreading wide over her skin, reverent, slow.

"You’re everything to me, Ella."

God, how could words feel so heavy, yet so beautiful?

Ella reached up hesitantly, her fingers trailing over his bare chest, tracing the steady beat of his heart. "You make me feel... like I matter," she whispered honestly.

He froze for a moment, then slowly leaned down, brushing his lips gently over hers. "That’s because you do."

She melted beneath him, her fingers curling into his hair as the kiss deepened—not rushed, not hungry like the night before, but sweet. Loving. Full of unspoken promises neither of them knew how to say yet.

Then his hips brushed against hers, slow, deliberate.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Nicholas lifted his head slightly, his lips just hovering over hers. "I want you again," he admitted softly. "But this time slow. Just us. Just love."

Her heart tripped. She nodded.

Nicholas cursed softly under his breath. "You’re gonna ruin me."

And then he pushed into her, slow, steady, deliberate. The stretch was exquisite, just shy of overwhelming, her body welcoming him like it had been waiting for this exact moment all along. Her breath hitched sharply in her throat, eyes fluttering shut at the fullness, the burn and the pleasure blending together.

"Ella..." His voice was broken around her name, low and reverent.

She dragged her nails gently up his back, needing to anchor herself somewhere, needing something to hold onto because the feeling of him inside her was already undoing her piece by piece.

His lips found her again, softer this time, almost apologetic, as if he could feel the tremble in her thighs as she adjusted around him.

"You’re perfect," he whispered against her lips. "So f***ing perfect."

Slowly, he started to move, rocking his hips in a rhythm that matched the rise and fall of their breathing. The pace wasn’t desperate—this was for them. For her. His hand moved to cup the back of her head, keeping her close as their mouths stayed connected, tasting, teasing, savoring.

And then it started to build—the heat curling low, winding tighter, making her body move instinctively with his. Every drag of his hips made her gasp softly into his mouth, her hands gripping his shoulders for more, needing him closer, deeper.

She felt him everywhere—his breath on her lips, his hand tangled in her hair, the hard press of his chest against her soft curves, the steady pulse of him inside her, filling every empty place like he was made to fit her.

"Mine," he murmured against her mouth, his voice raw now, no teasing left, just truth. "You’re mine,dolcezza. Every f***ing inch of you."

She answered by tilting her hips up, taking him deeper, chasing that spark building inside her, too close to speak, too close to think.

It hit her slowly this time—a rolling wave instead of a crash. A long, slow fall into something warm, something she didn’t want to come back from. Her cry was caught between their mouths as she broke apart around him, every muscle tightening, her back arching as she clung to him like he was the only thing holding her to the earth.

Nicholas followed right after, burying his face in the curve of her neck, groaning into her skin like her name was the only word that mattered. His body jerked against hers once, twice, before finally going still, his arms tightening around her like he never wanted to let her go.

Silence filled the room, except for their soft, mingled breaths.

Ella opened her eyes slowly to find him watching her, eyes dark, but soft now. His thumb brushed across her cheek, catching a stray tear she hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Official," he murmured, a lazy, crooked smile pulling at his lips.

"What is?" she whispered, catching her breath.

"You. Me." His smile widened slightly. "Consummated. Married. Mine."

She rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing, but her smile gave her away.

"Don’t even think about leaving," he said, kissing her again, slow and full of promise. "Not ever."