The Stranger I Married
Chapter 96: Stay Soft

Chapter 96: Stay Soft

The room was quiet now. Just the faint hum of the city through the window and their mingled breathing filling the space between them. The heat of their bodies still clung to the air, but the intensity had ebbed, leaving something softer in its place. A different kind of intimacy—one that had nothing to prove, no rush to get anywhere.

Just them.

Ella lay sprawled across Nicholas’s chest, her cheek pressed over his heartbeat, her legs tangled with his. His arm was draped across her bare back, palm resting low, fingers gently moving up and down her spine like he couldn’t stop touching her. And maybe he couldn’t. Not now. Not after that.

Her skin was warm, slightly damp from sweat and effort, and she made a sleepy little sigh when his fingertips grazed the dip at the base of her spine.

"Are you trying to tickle me?" she murmured, voice soft and slightly hoarse from all the breathless sounds he’d wrung out of her earlier.

Nicholas smiled, his hand flattening to smooth over her back in slow, lazy circles. "No," he said. "Maybe. A little."

She lifted her head, squinting up at him with that lazy, post-orgasm glow on her face. "You so are."

"I’m just appreciating you," he said innocently. "Soft skin. Pretty noises. Everything."

Ella flushed, rolling her eyes, but her smile gave her away. "God, you’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you, maybe."

Her smile faltered for a split second—something flickering in her eyes. But Nicholas didn’t push. He just leaned forward and kissed her forehead, lingering there like a promise.

"I meant what I said," he added quietly. "You’re dangerous."

"Me?" she laughed, nudging his ribs with her elbow. "You’re the one who nearly broke the bed."

"I was being gentle."

"You were being possessed."

He grinned. "Still gentle, though."

Ella laughed again, soft and lovely and unguarded, then buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her lips brushed his skin, warm and barely there. "You weren’t gentle with your words."

Nicholas tilted his head, his hand slipping up to cradle her nape. "Which part?"

"The part where you said you can just push my panties aside, unzip your pants, and fuck me right at the rooftop gainst this wall? No one would see. No one would know. Just me. Just you."

He groaned, tightening his hold. "Don’t bring that up again. I’m trying to keep my blood pressure down."

She giggled into his neck. "You’re the worst."

"You love it," he murmured, turning to press a kiss just below her ear. "You love knowing what you do to me."

"I do," she admitted, shameless and smug and so herself. "But also... you’re kind of soft right now. I like this side too."

Nicholas stilled for a moment, absorbing that. She liked this—the quiet part, the calm after the storm. It hit him in a way that felt deeper than anything else.

"Yeah?" he murmured, pulling her tighter into his arms. "You want me to stay soft, sweetheart?"

"Just for a little while," she said, tracing a slow line across his chest with her finger. "I like when you hold me like I’m breakable."

"You’re not breakable."

"I know," she whispered, "but you still touch me like I am. Like I’m something precious."

"You are precious." His voice was low now, reverent, and completely unguarded. "You think I look at you like I want you? That’s nothing compared to how I feel when I hold you after."

Ella looked up at him again, slower this time, her expression softening. "You always say the right things."

"Only with you." He brushed her hair back from her face, then leaned down and kissed her again. Not urgent. Not claiming. Just gentle and warm and theirs.

She melted into it, her hand resting on his jaw, her thumb stroking across the stubble that had rubbed her raw earlier. The kiss deepened only slightly before she broke it, smiling against his lips.

"I still can’t feel my thighs."

Nicholas chuckled, rolling to his side and taking her with him so she was tucked against him again, face to face. "I’ll rub them. Consider it post-orgasm recovery care."

"That sounds suspiciously like an excuse to feel me up."

"Sweetheart," he said with mock seriousness, dragging his fingers down her side until she shivered, "everything I do is an excuse to feel you up."

Ella smacked his chest lightly, but she didn’t move away. She curled closer, sliding her leg over his hip again, nestling into the warm space between his body and the mattress.

He stroked her thigh now, slow and comforting, massaging lazy circles into the muscle. And when he caught the faint tremble still lingering there, he smiled to himself.

"Told you I’d ruin you."

"You didn’t ruin me," she whispered, her breath tickling his neck. "You just... wrecked me a little."

He exhaled a soft laugh, brushing his lips against her temple. "Same difference."

They lay there in silence again, just breathing each other in. Ella’s fingers wandered over his ribs, following the outline of him with feather-light touches like she was trying to memorize him too.

"Can I ask you something?" she said after a while, voice quieter.

"Always."

"Did you know tonight would go this way?"

Nicholas blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Did you plan it?" She traced her finger in lazy shapes over his chest. "All of it—the dinner, the flirting, the corner of the rooftop, the bedroom..."

"I didn’t plan anything past seeing you," he admitted honestly. "Everything after that was just... reacting."

Ella smiled against his skin. "Good reaction."

He laughed. "Best reaction of my life."

They stayed like that for a long time. Just trading soft touches, light words, quiet kisses.

Eventually, Nicholas reached out to pull the covers over them, wrapping them both in warmth and sleep-heavy comfort. He kissed her once more on the lips, then again on the tip of her nose, and finally on the center of her forehead.

"Stay," he whispered.

Ella’s arm tightened around his waist. "You’d have to drag me out."

"I might anyway," he teased. "Right back to that restaurant rooftop I can have another go in that corner."

She laughed, sleep already stealing into her voice. "You’re insatiable."

"With you?" he murmured. "Always."

And just like that, they both drifted into the kind of sleep that only comes after being completely and utterly consumed—in lust, in laughter, and in maybe love.