When it’s time to breathe, he sucks in the air and says, “What was that for?”
“This time, it was my choice,” I reply.
A grin spreads on his face. “You know, I never asked you the question … but I will now.”
“What?” I ask frowning.
He picks up an apple lying on the ground mere inches away from us and holds it up. “I don’t have a ring, so this will have to do. But … will you stay married to me?”
I laugh, but my heart swells with love at the same time, and I grasp the apple, and say, “Yes, silly!”
He grabs my wrist and leans in to take a bite, chomping down. “Good, because I don’t think I’d survive if I had to go out there and look for another wife.”
I narrow my eyes. “You wouldn’t …”
“No, I don’t have time. Besides, I have you, and that’s more than enough for me to handle,” he says, raising his brows. “Plus, I intend to enjoy every minute I have with you.”
He leans in and presses another hungry kiss onto my lips, persuading me to kiss him back. The tension is rising. I can feel it in my body, which begs for him to touch it. He grasps my wrist and forces it down onto the grass, and the apple rolls away.
I don’t feel captured or subdued …
I feel free.