Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 212

The first thing Celeste felt was warmth from the body beside her, and the warmth slowly travelled to her leg, and to the sole of her foot.

Dominic’s lips brushed the sole of her foot in a slow, almost reverent kiss. It was soft enough to draw a sleepy hum from her throat.

He trailed more unhurried kisses along her ankle, her calf, and up the curve of her thigh. He was relearning her in silence. By the time his mouth reached hers, her eyes fluttered open.

Her lips curved before her eyes even found him. She gave him a soft, sleepy smile. The smile disarmed every piece of him before she even spoke.

He kissed her again, on her lips now. The kiss was slower, and longer, tasting her dream-heavy breath. She kissed him back without thought.

Her fingers brushed the edge of his jaw, as if confirming that he was still there. Then, her hands wrapped around his neck, and drew him closer.

When he finally pulled back, her eyes were now fully opened again. She smiled at him, and buried her fingers into his hair.

Dominic rolled onto his side, gathering her into his arms. He was careful of his bandaged shoulder.

Celeste followed his pull naturally, curling into him. Her legs found his beneath the duvet, and she tangled their legs together, in the lazy, wordless way only two people who loved each other beyond reason could.

She looked up at him. His eyes were clearer now, the shadows from last night gone. He looked so much better than last night.

"Good morning, darling," she murmured.

"Good morning, wife," Dominic replied, smiling. The smile softened the sharpness in his face, and made him look far too human for the man the world feared.

Celeste blinked, her lips twitching. "We aren’t married."

He brushed his thumb across her cheek. "In my head, I married you a long time ago. I’m sure you did too." His voice dropped lower, smoother. "Give me a date. Let’s make it real."

Celeste laughed. "When your wound heals, I’ll let you ask again. And when you do—" she smiled, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, "—I’ll give you a date."

Dominic’s gaze followed the movement of her hand, then flicked to the neat roll of bandage on his shoulder. He frowned at it like it personally offended him.

Celeste laughed again, unable to help it. "You’re glaring at the wound like it’s competition."

"It is," he muttered. "I have to wait for it now."

She shook her head, still laughing, and Dominic’s chest eased with the sound. He’d nearly forgotten what her laughter did to him.

He caught her hand midair and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. His fingers intertwined with hers. Always a perfect fit.

"How many kids do you want?" he asked.

Celeste blinked. "Kids?" she repeated. The word had come out of nowhere, and she wanted to be sure she heard him. "You finally want them?"

He nodded slowly. "I now do," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want to see you as a mother. I want to see you nurture them with that same love you’ve shown me. The kind that doesn’t ask to be earned."

Celeste’s throat tightened. For a second, she couldn’t find her voice. She blinked back the shimmer that suddenly gathered behind her lashes.

"I want two," she said finally, smiling through the softness in her voice. "Just two of them."

Dominic smiled. But it faded almost as quickly as it came. His thumb brushed against her fingers as if uncertain. "I don’t want you to go through the pain of it," he said quietly. "You’re my first baby. You’ll always be my first baby. We could use a surrogate mother. I’ll pay whatever she asks—"

"Shhh." Celeste pressed her palm over his mouth before he could finish. "I want to carry my child," she whispered. "Our child. I won’t be alone, Dominic. You’ll be with me. And even if it hurts, it’ll be worth it. Because you’ll be there."

He said nothing.

He only looked at her. Then, slowly, he took her hand away from his lips and turned it over, pressing a kiss to the inside of her palm. His mouth lingered there, warm and soft, before he whispered, "You’d do that for me?"

"I’d do it for us."

Her words were simple, but they sank deep, straight through the part of him that still didn’t believe he was allowed to have this much peace.

Dominic exhaled, his thumb brushing the curve of her wrist. "You’d be a beautiful mother."

Celeste smiled. "And you’d be a terrifyingly protective father."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Terrifying?"

She nodded, teasing. "Yes. You’d probably interrogate every teacher, every nurse, and every child that dared look at our baby the wrong way."

Dominic arched a brow. "Why would they ever look at our child the wrong way? Of course, I’ll want to know why."

"It’s a very Dominic thing," she murmured, tugging playfully at his shoulders. "But I’ll let you get away with it. Once."

He caught her hand, pulling her closer until their foreheads met. His voice softened again, losing its edge. "What would you name the baby?"

Celeste’s smile was small, but sure. She didn’t even pause to think. "Celsa," she said.

Dominic blinked. "Celsa?"

She nodded. "Celsa Monroe Cross."

The name rolled off her tongue so softly. She had thought of the name Celsa since she was a teenager.

Dominic repeated it under his breath, tasting it. "Celsa Monroe Cross." He smiled, and it reached his eyes. "She sounds perfect."

"She would be," Celeste said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled her closer again, their noses brushing. "You’ve already thought about this before, haven’t you?"

Celeste blushed faintly. "Maybe."

He chuckled. "Of course you have."

Celeste’s fingers traced the faint edge of his jaw, down to his neck. "You’re really asking about babies now?" she teased gently. "You, who once said no to the thought of it?"

Dominic’s eyes darkened, with memories. "It was," he admitted. "Because I didn’t think I could ever be... gentle enough. I didn’t think I deserved something pure."

She leaned closer, "You do." she said. Her voice was soft.

He smiled faintly. "Maybe now. Because of you."

Celeste didn’t reply. She only lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek. Her thumb traced the faint shadow of his beard.

"Then that’s enough," she whispered.

Dominic’s eyes softened, and he turned his head to kiss her palm again. The gesture said everything he didn’t have words for.

"Celsa Monroe Cross," he murmured again, the words more like a promise than a name now. "She’ll have your smile."

"She’ll have your eyes," Celeste replied. "And your stubbornness."

Dominic huffed. "That’s trouble."

"I know," she teased. "That’s why she’ll be ours."

He laughed softly. He kissed her forehead, then her temple, and then the edge of her mouth.

Celeste closed her eyes, sinking into it.