Pulling the fingers laced with mine up to my lips, I kissed the promise ring on his left hand. With his warm legs tangled around mine, his broad chest flush against my back, and his arms circled over and under me cradling my body to his, he was far more comfortable than the overpriced bed. The sheets wrapped around us were the finest linens I’d ever slept in, but their luxuriousness paled in comparison to the man beside me. Soft lips touched my shoulder, and I snuggled further into the body seeking my solace. And even more miraculously, he felt the same. It was the feeling bursting apart my chest-the overwhelming sensation that I’d been cleaved in two at birth, and, miraculously, I’d managed to find my other half. And really, a formal ceremony and a piece of paper wasn’t what made a marriage. A soul-filled pledge of undying devotion was enough for us right now. A cool ring of hard metal dug into my skin as he held me in his firm grasp and I smiled wider, fingering the matching band on the ring finger of my hand. The hand was warm and soft, and clasped mine, cinching tight. Smiling, I stretched my tight limbs and placed my palm over the wandering fingers. I was stirred from sleep by a hand running up my thigh.
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