The Stranger I Married
Chapter 97: Blissful Marriage

Chapter 97: Blissful Marriage

The morning light spilled gently through the half-closed blinds, casting soft golden stripes across the room. It crept over the bed slowly, kissing the rumpled sheets and illuminating the bare skin of two people tangled together as if they belonged that way.

Ella stirred first.

Not because of the sunlight, but because of the warmth curled around her. The soft rise and fall of Nicholas’s chest beneath her cheek. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat that had been her lullaby hours earlier.

For a moment, she stayed still, unwilling to wake him. Her fingers idly traced the slope of his collarbone, down to the faint line of muscle along his sternum. He was so warm. So solid. And it was still wild to her that she’d spent the night not just in his bed, but with him—beneath him, around him, completely claimed in every possible way.

And yet, now... now it felt different. Like everything had been stripped away but something truer. Something quiet and beautiful.

Nicholas shifted under her touch, a soft grunt slipping past his lips. Then a lazy, gravelly voice followed, half-asleep and unfairly sexy.

"Are you staring at me again?"

Ella smiled, not lifting her head. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Liar," he mumbled, blindly reaching a hand up to slide through her hair. "You’ve been tracing my chest like I’m a puzzle."

"You are a puzzle," she murmured, kissing the spot just below his collarbone. "A complicated, bossy, distracting one."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating under her cheek. "Distracting, huh? That’s rich coming from the woman who rode me into the mattress and then passed out like a satisfied little menace."

Ella propped her chin up on his chest to glare at him. "I did not pass out."

"You drooled."

"I did not!"

"You absolutely did," he teased, brushing his thumb along her jaw with a smirk that made her want to both punch and kiss him.

"I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

She tried to look offended, but he tilted her face up and kissed her before she could protest—slow and lazy, still tasting of sleep and contentment. She melted against him immediately, her hand sliding up to his jaw as he deepened the kiss only slightly, just enough to make her toes curl.

When they pulled apart, Ella let her head fall back onto his chest with a sigh. "Okay. Maybe I don’t hate you."

Nicholas’s hand slid down her back, warm and slow, until it rested on her hip. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Good," he said, voice still thick with sleep. "Because I’d really hate waking up to you glaring at me every morning."

"Are you saying you want to wake up to me every morning?" she asked, brow raised, tone teasing.

He went quiet for a moment, and when she looked up, he was watching her with something far too serious in his eyes.

"I wouldn’t mind it," he said softly. "Not one bit."

Ella’s breath caught. She looked away quickly, blinking up at the ceiling like it might offer some emotional protection.

"You’re dangerous when you say stuff like that, Carter."

"I mean it, Ella."

She didn’t say anything right away. Just reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his. Her thumb ran softly over the back of his, like she needed something to do with all the thoughts now racing through her mind.

"I... I don’t know how to do this," she admitted quietly.

Nicholas tilted his head, watching her with furrowed brows. "Do what?"

"Be... wanted like this." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "You’re not just flirting with me anymore. It’s different now. And that scares me."

He squeezed her hand. "It’s okay to be scared. I’m terrified."

"You? The fearless, dominant, smooth-talking Nicholas Carter? Terrified?"

He smiled, pulling her closer until her entire body was stretched across his. "Terrified I’ll fuck this up. Or that you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone simpler. Safer."

Ella blinked at him. Then laughed—a real one. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I’m also falling for you. Hard. And I want you to know that."

The air shifted again. Not like last night with fire and lust—but something slower, something warmer. Ella didn’t run from the feeling. She let it wash over her, and she held his gaze.

"I don’t want simple," she said finally. "I want this. You. Us."

Nicholas exhaled a slow breath and leaned in to kiss her again. This time, it was different—sweet, reverent, like a silent thank-you for everything she’d just said.

When they finally broke apart, she rested her cheek against his chest again and closed her eyes.

"Can we stay like this forever?" she murmured.

"Maybe just until brunch," he joked. "I make really good pancakes."

"Prove it."

He laughed and tugged her closer, nuzzling into her hair. "Eventually. For now..." His voice dropped. "You feel too good to move."

"Mmm," she hummed, dragging her fingers up his chest again. "So do you."

They lay there for a while, exchanging soft touches, quiet giggles, and the occasional kiss. Their bodies still carried the ache from the night before, but their hearts... their hearts were soft and wide open.

Eventually, Nicholas rolled them so that she was beneath him again, his weight resting comfortably on his elbows as he hovered above her.

"Mind if I remind you just how good you are in the morning?" he asked with a crooked smile.

Ella rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Only if you’re going to be gentle."

His grin softened. "I can do gentle. I can do slow. I can do sweet."

And then, he kissed her.

Just like that, the world fell away again, and everything else—the fears, the past, the nerves—melted into nothing.

It was just them.

Wrapped in sheets, wrapped in warmth, and wrapped around each other.

Marriage life was truly blissful.