— The Tune of Bullets- Part 9
Belle stroked her husband’s hair, smiling senselessly down at his boneless form. He was sprawled across her body like a lapcat, looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, the ever-present tension in his body having fled like it had never been there at all. In that moment, she half-expected him to start purring, and the mental image made her bite her lip to stifle her giggle. She couldn’t blame him. If Belle could purr, she would.
She’d always thought the word lovemaking was a pretty euphemism, but her husband had shown her that nothing could be further from the truth. Belle had never felt more love than when he’d been inside of her, desperate and helpless in her arms, and she’d never felt more loved than when he was touching her, his harsh breath and dark eyes showing her without words just how much he valued her. He’d been so sweetly worried about hurting her, but even at the end when he’d been rough she’d felt nothing but joy that she could excite him so.
