Underwater: The Silent Luna novel Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Meadow’s eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, her body still humming with the echoes of last night’s explorations. The bed felt vast and empty beside her, sheets cool where Ethan’s warmth should have been.

Panic spiked in her chest, her heart pounding as she sat up abruptly, clutching the covers to her bare skin. Had she slept through his departure? The thought twisted like a knife, him gone to Ceenas without a proper goodbye, leaving her alone in this sprawling

house that still felt like foreign territory.

A rustle drew her gaze across the room. There he was, in his wheelchair before the full-length mirror, sliding his trousers up over his hips with practiced ease. Relief flooded her, easing the knot in her throat, though she became acutely aware of her own nudity beneath the rumpled sheets, her skin prickling with the memory of his hands mapping her curves just hours ago.

“Good morning,” Ethan said, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through the quiet space. He turned his head, catching her eye in

the mirror’s reflection, a slow smile curving his lips.

She managed a small wave, her cheeks warming as she watched him adjust the fabric over his strong thighs. It hit her then, he’d always let her assist with his pants since she’d arrived, turning a simple task into an intimate ritual that made her feel needed, close. A giggle bubbled up unbidden, light and unexpected.

Come on, Meadow, help me,” he said, feigning struggle with the zipper, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

She laughed outright but soundless, the sound freeing some of the tension coiling inside her. Slipping from the bed, she wrapped the sheet around her torso like a makeshift sarong, the fabric whispering against her still-sensitive skin.

Kneeling before him, she took over, her fingers brushing his as she tugged the shorts into place, then the trousers. Up close, his scent enveloped her, clean, masculine, laced with the faint trace of their shared night. She glanced up, meeting his gaze, and found it soft, loving, holding hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

‘Don’t miss me too much, he teased, but the words landed heavier than intended, wiping the smile from her face. He saw it, the

flicker of genuine ache in her eyes, and regretted the jest immediately.

She shook her head, her hands signing fluidly. I am not worried about the trouble. I will miss you.

His smile faded too, the room thickening with unspoken weight. Could she really mean it? This marriage, at first a sham was now stirring something real in her? The thought flickered through his mind, tempting, before he shoved it down. No, better not to hope. “I won’t be long,” he murmured, reaching out to caress her cheek, his thumb tracing the soft swell beneath her eye.

Her gaze grew misty, lashes clumping with unshed tears, and he felt a pang, helpless to fully soothe the longing he saw there. If only he could scoop her up, take her along to whatever awaited in Ceenas, shield her from the uncertainties. But the journey was

fraught, a gamble for peace that demanded his focus, alongside Joseph’s. He couldn’t risk her in the unknown.

Once the trousers were secured, Ethan wheeled back slightly, gesturing for her to stand before him. With gentle insistence, he peeled the sheet away, letting it pool at her feet. Her body bared to the morning light, small breasts rising with each shallow breath, the faint flush of last night’s pleasure still marking her inner thighs, her pussy lips slightly swollen from their tender play. He drank

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Chapter 47

her in, admiration warming his chest, before his hands settled on her waist, pulling her close. He hugged her tight, forehead pressing to the soft plane of her tummy, inhaling the sweet, aroused scent that clung to her skin even now.

Meadow’s fingers threaded through his hair, stroking soothingly, her touch a silent anchor. He pressed a lingering kiss to her navel, lips brushing the warm flesh, tasting the salt of her skin. Reluctantly, he pulled back, meeting her eyes. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

She nodded, swallowing hard against the tears, a foreboding chill settling in her gut. Something about this trip felt off, like it might stretch beyond his words, but she bit it back, turning instead to the bathroom. The shower was quick, twenty minutes of hot water cascading over her body, rinsing away the night’s stickiness from between her legs, though the ache of his absence already bloomed She dressed in a simple blouse and skirt, the fabric hugging her curves modestly, and joined him for breakfast.

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Underwater: The Silent Luna